Silencing My Inner-Jew

I was born a picky eater, to a woman whose cooking is revered locally. Those years of homesick cure-all cooking in Los Angeles made my mother the best cook I know. Don’t take my word for it. She’s since had a restaurant and a catering business, and regularly receives marriage proposals from strange men, including my stepdad’s friends. Yep, her food is that good. Just ask my back-side.

Despite her culinary flair, my mom got stuck with me, the world’s pickiest eater. While I eventually grew out of my pickiness, I remember many a night during my childhood when my mother warned me that one day, I would have a child just like me. And then I would apologize to her for my picky-eater theatrics. “You just wait…” she would hiss at me. Little did I know my mom has some crazy voodoo going on, and her warning became a prophetic curse. I got stuck with TWO picky eaters, and my mom gets to laugh her behind off regularly as I beg, threaten and finally force feed my children something other than chicken tenders.

While I did grow out of most of my picky-eating tendencies, my aversion to all things pork seemed permanent. I’ve been told that I should have been Jewish, instead of a Louisiana Catholic, because of my constant refusal to eat anything that once oinked. Me and the “other white meat” were the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s as far as I was concerned. When I worked as a counselor at a Jewish summer camp up in Yankee-land, the directors worried that a Louisiana girl would struggle with keeping kosher. I assured them that it would be no problem for me. I almost starved to death that summer anyway, because I guess I did not understand the full concept of kosher, and only Matzo ball soup stood between me and emaciation. (Ok, maybe that is as slight exaggeration, but I did get off the plane that fall begging my mama to feed me quick)

My husband eventually coaxed me into a relationship with bacon by making bacon –cheese fries. However, I still avoided cooking any kind of pork if I could help it.

That is, until I finally found a pork chop recipe that silenced my pork-hating ways. It came from Taste of Home magazine many moons ago, and I guarantee it will make any husband happy…unless his taste buds are disabled…then you’re on your own.

Pork Chops in Mustard Cream Sauce

Ingredients:

  • 1/4 cup plus 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour, divided
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon pepper
  • 4 bone-in pork loin chops (1 inch thick), trimmed
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 1/2 pound fresh mushrooms, sliced
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 cup beef broth
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary, crushed
  • 1/4 cup half-and-half cream
  • 1/4 cup sour cream
  • 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

Directions:

  1. In a large resealable plastic bag, combine 1/4 cup flour, salt and pepper. Add pork chops, one at a time, and shake to coat.
  2. In a large skillet, brown chops in oil over medium-high heat for 3-4 minutes on each side. Remove and set aside. In the same skillet, sauté mushrooms and garlic for 3 minutes. Add broth and rosemary; bring to a boil. reduce heat; to low; return pork to pan.
  3. Cover and simmer for 1 hour or until meat is very tender. Remove pork and keep warm. In a small bowl, combine the half-and-half, sour cream, mustard and remaining flour until smooth. Pour into skillet. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Serve over pork chops. Yield: 4 servings.

_____________

While me and pork are still getting to know each other, my husband is simply happy to have some meat diversity in our menu, and my kids actually eat this without half the histrionics of other meals.

Oink, Oink.

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