Herb Roasted Pork Loin for a Last Minute Wednesday
It’s no secret that Wednesdays can press us to the edge. It traps us in the middle of the week, too close a reminder of the disaster that was Monday, and too far from the promise that comes with Friday.
As I slowly crack open the fridge for dinner inspiration, I’m greeted by bunches of thyme and rosemary pleading for attention. Suffering a similar plight is the pork loin in my fridge. It’s a lug I bought this week out of boredom or maybe exasperation. With none of the fat that makes other pork options so succulent, pork loin is never my first choice. It too often emerges from my oven dry and tasteless.
Today I’m determined and, frankly, desperate. In a decisive moment, I make a plan that is easy and makes the best of my ingredients. Fresh thyme and rosemary are minced together with several cloves of garlic, flaky kosher salt and a douse of oil, creating a beautiful fragrant rub. A few easy steps and in an hour I’ll be pulling out of the oven an Herb Roasted Pork Loin.
I cut a slit to butterfly the loin and slather my herby salt rub all over the inside. My daughter clips a few pieces of cooking twine, we reassemble the pork loin into a log and slather the rub all over. I am trying to combat pork loin’s bland tendencies by literally smothering it with flavor.
Now, to address the dryness. Just before I place the anointed loin into the oven, I douse the pan with white wine and cover with foil. After about 20 minutes, I peek in and spoon the pan’s white wine drippings over the loin, adding more wine (sometimes from my glass), or broth or even boiling water from the kettle, when necessary, so there is always liquid in the bottom of the pan.
When the temperature reaches 140 degrees, I remove the foil and let the roast start to brown. When the meat thermometer reaches 155 degrees, I pull my now golden roast from the oven and set on a cutting board to rest.
After a few moments, I have to sneak a taste. A sudden rush of eureka. There is actual flavor. The pungent warmth of the garlic hits me first but its prominence is tempered by the woody weight of the thyme and rosemary. With a smack on the forehead I realize my pork loin is actually dripping with juices and it even looks rather elegant.
This is something special, particularly for a Wednesday. I would proudly serve this pork to guests at a weekend dinner party. Best of all, I haven’t wasted my herbs nor looked death in the eye by using meat past it’s expiration date. And, I have plenty of flavorful pork leftovers to see us through to the weekend.
The days are getting shorter but dinner manages to be on the table before complete darkness overcomes us. I’m not ashamed to prove yet again that advance planning is most often overrated.
My spirit starts to lift as I realize the week is now gaining momentum. It will soon topple over its midpoint and tumble with full force toward the weekend. That’s something to like about today, and so is the pork loin. But I still don’t like Wednesdays.
- 4 lb. boneless pork loin
- 4-5 cloves garlic, chopped
- 3 Tablespoons rosemary and thyme leaves, roughly chopped
- 2 teaspoons kosher salt
- ¼ teaspoon ground pepper
- ¼ cup canola or grapeseed oil
- ½ cup to 1-1/2 cups white wine or chicken broth
- Preheat oven to 375 degrees
- Cut a slit into the center of the pork loin lengthwise ¾ of the way through and open each half (like a book)
- In a small bowl combine garlic, herbs, salt and pepper
- Add oil, stir to combine
- Spread herb mixture on the inside of the pork loin then fold back together and tie to secure in three places (at each end and once in the middle.)
- Rub remaining herb mixture on outside of the pork loin
- Place in a roast pan and pour in just enough wine to cover the bottom of the pan. Cover pan with foil and place in the oven.
- After about 20 minutes, lift foil, spoon wine juices over the pork roast and replace liquid in the pan, as necessary.
- After 10 minutes, remove foil and continue to roast until temperature reaches 155 degrees.
- Remove from oven and let roast rest for 10 minutes on a cutting board.