I am a cooking magpie. Whenever I see a shiny new recipe, I have to swoop down and cook it, preferably as soon as possible. The great thing about this is that I get to try new food all the time; the sad thing is that unlike other chefs, I don't have a repetoire of go-to favorites. Even when I try to remake a dish that was delicious the first time, somehow it doesn't taste as good six months or two years later. Luckily, I do have a stand-by: salsa verde carnitas. When I first began to cook, it was deep winter and Cooking Light ran a feature on stews and braises. I loved the simple steps: browning the meat in the pot, submerging it halfway in flavorful liquid, and letting the aroma fill my tiny apartment while it simmered on the stove. The first dish I ever cooked -- for myself or for my boyfriend -- was Chinese braised short ribs, and one afternoon of lounging on the sofa, smelling the spicy sauce, and yearning to eat it was enough to sell me on the technique. Not surprisingly, I lost the recipe and never made that exact dish again. The salsa verde carnitas were my second braise, and it became an enduring favorite. I made it after I saw how much my boyfriend loved the carnitas at a local Mexican restaurant, and I set out to make them myself. I was seduced not only by the rich, meltingly tender meat but also by the idea that I could make something as good as what came out of a restaurant kitchen. I might have lost that recipe too, or forgotten it, but my boyfriend keeps it alive by requesting it each year for his birthday. When I made it for him two weeks ago, he took a bite and said, "I can taste the love."
This is the best compliment a cook can receive, and since then, I have spent a lot of time contemplating what makes a dish taste like love. It's not difficulty. In fact, these carnitas are made with lots of ingredients that come in jars from the grocery store, and after you dump the ingredients into a big pot, there's very little work to do. The love, I think, is in the long cooking time, which guarantees deep flavors and a kitchen full of mouth-watering aromas that signal your guests are about to eat something truly special. And don't skimp on the garnishes. Sure, your carnitas will taste good without the chopped avocados, toasted tortillas, or lime-drenched cabbage slaw, but the love comes from these small touches.
This recipe is adapted from
Salsa Verde Carnitas at SimplyRecipes.com. Many of the changes I have made are a matter of taste. For instance, I think using a bone-in shoulder roast is worth it for the extra flavor, but you might prefer to use a smaller boneless roast for ease of shredding. Cilantro cooking base lives on the Mexican aisle of my supermarket with the salsas, but if you can't find it, just use extra salsa verde.
For Meat
*4 lb. bone-in pork shoulder roast (go for 3 1/2 lb. if using boneless meat)
*1 1/2 c. salsa verde
*1/2 c. cilantro cooking base
*3 c. chicken stock
*2 tsp. cumin seeds (spices can be expensive, but the Mexican aisle of my supermarket has a secret stash of spices that are much cheaper than the ones on the main spice aisle)
*1 tbsp. chopped fresh oregano
*2 tsp. coriander seeds or coriander
*1 big yellow or white onion, diced
*Salt to taste
For Garnishes
*1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro
*2 avocados, diced (toss with lemon or lime juice after cutting to prevent oxidization)
*1/2 c. crumbled feta cheese
*Sour cream
*1/4 head cabbage, finely chopped
*Juice of 1/2 lime
*About 15 soft taco size tortillas
*Olive oil
*Salt to taste
1. Prepare the meat
Trim excess fat from meat. (You don't have to get it perfect, just cut off any big hunks.) Heat a large, heavy pot over low heat. Throw cumin seeds into the pot to toast them - you'll be able to smell when they're done, but if you want a visual cue, they should be a shade darker. When seeds are toasted, throw in the pork and turn the heat up to medium high. Allow the bottom to sear while you assemble the remaining ingredients. Add spices, onion, salsa, cilantro cooking base, and onion to the pot; sprinkle with salt. The liquid should not cover the meat completely, but should come up 1/2 to 3/4 of the way to the top. If it does not, add more stock or salsa. Raise bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover, and simmer until meat is very tender, about 3 hours. It's very important that the meat actually simmer here; boiling will make it tough. Check on it periodically and reduce the heat if necessary. You can also crack the lid or slide the pot halfway off the burner to regulate the temperature. When meat is done, remove it from the sauce and let cool, then shred it with two forks. Preheat the oven to 400 hundred degrees, spread the meat in an even layer on a roasting pan, and cook 10-20 minutes or until tops are crispy. (If you're going to skip a step, this is the one to omit. My boyfriend demands the crispy bits, but I like the texture and flavor of the meat better when it hasn't been roasted.)
2. Prepare the sauce
After removing meat from pot, raise heat to high. Boil liquid vigorously for about 10 minutes, until it is reduced to 2 1/2 cups. This will concentrate the flavor. If you can see fat floating on the surface, skim it off.
3. Prepare garnishes
While meat is cooking, chop up your garnishes. (It's better to cut the avocado just before serving, even if you plan to drizzle it with lime juice.) Finely chop the cabbage and toss in a small bowl with the juice of 1/2 lime and a light drizzling of olive oil. Sprinkle with salt to taste.
Drizzle just enough olive oil into a heavy skillet to coat the bottom. Heat on medium until oil is thin and runny, sprinkle with sea salt, toss in a tortilla, and lightly brown it on both sides. Transfer tortilla to a paper towel lined plate and repeat with remaining tortillas, adding additional oil and salt when necessary. Store with a paper towel between each one. (This step is a bit tedious, but it really makes the dish. Guests always comment on how good the crisped tortillas taste.)
Allow guests to assemble their own tacos with the meat, reduced sauce, and garnishes of their choice. Makes about 15 tacos.