Last year about this time I had just finished reading David Lebovitz’s The Sweet Life in Paris. The book is a collection of the author’s reflections on living in Paris with some of his recipes included at the end of every chapter. I drank in every word (along with a fair amount of Kir as I recall) and wanted to board a plane for Paris immediately. Instead, I settled for making several of the recipes (and drinking more Kir). Most notably, an amazing chocolate cake and a bourbon glazed pork roast.
This week I decided to make the pork again. I had Monday off and was excited to marinate the pork in the morning and have a lovely dinner waiting when my husband got home. It was my way of saying thanks for all the lovely dinners he has prepared for me during my four-year long full-time work part-time grad school dance.
But alas, I realized when I read the recipe more carefully, instead of the brief skim for ingredients I had done the day before, that the pork was supposed to brine for 2 to 4 days before marinating for 8 hours. I had completely forgotten this. I briefly considered brining for half and day and marinating for the other half, but in the end decided against it. There was a reason for the process and I shouldn’t cheat it. It felt wrong.
What I lacked in adequate recipe pre-reading I made up for in instinct. The pork was ready for cooking last night and delicious does not even begin to describe it. It was perfectly honey brown on the outside. Soft and flavorful, with the salt, thyme and bay from the marinade in the background of the bourbon, molasses and apricot in the glaze. Paired with roasted red potatoes and haricots verts (okay, they were frozen green beans, but I hate for them to feel plain) it was a perfect meal.
And a perfect reminder that even when things don’t go as planned, it doesn’t mean that there’s not good stuff just ahead. Sometimes it just needs to marinate for a few days! And, you know, maybe have another glass of Kir.