My hair smells like pork chops. I suppose there are worse problems to have, but I've already washed my hair and I was counting on not having to wash it again for...well, awhile. Like, at least Saturday. So now my options are:
-live with porkchophair and make my sheets and pillowcases and All The Stuff smell like pork chops, too
-rewash my hair and towel dry and comb and mousse and blow dry and flat iron and UGH. it's a total first world ordeal. And I am tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrredddd and the world doesn't care. And all I want to do is read until I fall asleep until I have to wake up again in six minutes so obviously I am handling this like a mature adult and putting off dealing with being a pork head.
The next item on my to-do list besides Confront My Issues is to walk you through how I do pork chops. I promise, even your kids will love this. The first time you give it to them, anyway. Then they will complain every time after that even though they actually love it. I don't know why. It's the law or something.
First you need to start with an iron skillet. DO NOT SIDE STEP THIS RULE. If you don't have an iron skillet, this recipe is not for you. And it can't be any ol' iron skillet, either. This is not a "run to Bass Pro Shops and grab whatever they have in the camping section" event. And don't you dare get something at Walmart claiming to be pre-seasoned. Pre-seasoned with what? Sadness?
Pro tip: you need to wait until somebody's gramma dies and passes her skilletry on to you. Believe me, these pork chops are worth the wait.
Once you get some iron of quality, and by that I mean at least 80 years old, slide it onto a stove top burner and drizzle some olive oil into it. Heat to a high temp - 'til it's smoking. In the meantime, set your oven to 400 degrees. Actually, that needs to be your first step before waiting for the death of Granny. You don't want to have stuff ready to go into an oven that's not fully heated. That's one way to come in last place. So turn your oven on first, get it to 400, then wait impatiently for the funeral procession and the reading of Grandmother's will and hope you got her skillet and if you didn't, then just give up and go chew on a wad of despair. You're sunk.
If you've got all of those other things taken care of, move to step two:
Lay out your pork chops on paper towels and pat them dry. Lovingly. You're about to scald and roast them. They need to know you care.
Now, mix up the following.
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon packed brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon ground pepper
These are approximate measurements, you know. I make this in bulk and keep it in a jar and use about twice as much garlic powder and paprika as the other stuff, and twice as much of the other stuff as the pepper.
Once you've patted the pork chops dry on both sides, sprinkle the spice mixture liberally and give it a rub like you're a masseuse on a mission.
Once the pork chops are well patted, rubbed, and seasoned, dirge them as you slip 'em into the hot oil. YOU ARE NOT DEEP FRYING THESE GUYS. I know, I know. Kick me out of the South. Believe me, this will put your fried chops to shame. You just need enough oil to coat the bottom of the skillet. The dirge is because you care about the pork chop's feelings. It's hot in there, baby.
Sear the chops for about 2 minutes. Flip 'em quick - they're going to be a gorgeous chestnut brown, and pop the whole pan into the oven WHICH IS ALREADY HOT because you were thinking ahead of time about this, just like you were nice to your grandma because you were counting on inheriting her skillet. It pays to be strategic.
So now you've got the iron skillets with your pork choppeties in the oven. Yeah, I said skillets. Know why I have two? Because I outlasted TWO GRANDMAS, and one of 'em I never even met. I'm just that adorable, I guess. And I honor their memory every day with these things. Anyway, set the timer for 6-8 minutes. Eh, 6 minutes if the chops are thin, 8 minutes if they're on the thick side. OR you can go the smart route of using a good probe thermometer to get them right to 145 internally and yank them out at not a second past that amount of time. If you don't have a thermometer, don't give up. Six to eight minutes is going to get you in the window. And then you have supper on your plate, and sweet mother of Joseph and Benjamin! Let me assure you:
there is no need for gravy.
AND ALL THE SOUTHERNERS SHAMED MY MAMA FOR LETTING ME SAY THAT.
I mean, pile it on if you want, because no Southerner worth her salt should cook for others until she can make good gravy, because it's kind of like our main food group, but I can let these chops speak for themselves. I mean, not really. They're doing no speaking. They're dead. Just like Grandma(s). You gave them the dirge and everything. But let me tell you: one bite of these and your heart will finally know what resurrection hope feels like.
But then you'll have hair that smells just like it, so you might be back to the dirge. Unless you want your hair to smell like pork chops. It's really up to you, I guess. But hey, this is supper under 15 minutes and that doesn't sound like a dirge to anybody. Then with all the extra time you have, you can go wash your hair so your sheets don't smell like last night's dinner in the morning.
Or you can blog about it instead, which is why now today I get to wash my sheets and my hair. You win some, you lose some.
PS. I recommend serving these with turnip greens or green beans Cooked Correctly and mashed potatoes (you can smother these in gravy). I'll walk you through my mashed potatoes how-to sometime. It involves heavy cream and bacon grease and tasting and seeing that the Lord is good.