Eight wooden spoons, a spider sieve, a rubber spatula, a small wooden fork, a skewer, a strand of raw spaghetti (for testing cakes), salad servers, a pair of tongs that aren’t as helpful as they appear, and a friend’s ladle that I refuse to return reside in a wide pot with handles resembling ears by the stove. A commonplace arrangement that, despite the regular influx and outflow, remains remarkably consistent.
While the rest of the kitchen is a game of hiding and seeking, the contents of the pot are so reliable that it almost seems like magic is at work. For this reason, I appreciate the pot and its contents, even more, especially the wooden spoons, which are more adept than I am at maintaining order. Not that you could tell by looking at them; with their burnt necks and emaciated, dry handles, they appear to have been abused, not loved. Someone once recommended that I exfoliate them with baking soda, let them dry for two days, and then massage them with olive oil. When I clean the oven, I will.
For today’s meal, another from the Anna Tasca Lanza cooking school in Sicily, you will need a wooden spoon to prepare arista with garden herbs, often known as “pork with an eye.” Because the recipe instructs you to create a hole (or even a tunnel) that is the length of the meat. And this is where the spoon comes in: you stuff the hole with a variety of herbs, resulting in green eyes on each slice.
This dish works best with boneless arista or pork loin. For four to six people, you need a 1.5-kilogram bird with a protective and flavorful coating of fat. Twist-push the spoon handle through one cut side of the joint until it emerges from the opposite side. Don’t take it out just yet: similarly to how you would make an umbrella hole in the sand, spin the handle widely until the tunnel is around 2 centimeters wide.
Summer is here, so there is less risk of food going bad, but mealtimes and appetites are fickle. Both the pork and the beans will have to wait around an hour. Wait until you are ready to eat to add the basil, and perhaps add a bit more oil and mix.
I am aware that blogging about my spoons and continual pot may break the spell and cause me to lose the spatula forever. Or perhaps the tortured spoons will revolt, summon the broom, and cause the kitchen to flood. But at least I have cold meat for tomorrow’s sandwiches.
Pork with mint and other herbs, and a borlotti and tomato salad:
Prep 20 min
Cook 1 hr
Serves 4-6
A big bunch of herbs – at least half of it mint, the rest a mix of sage, oregano and rosemary, leaves picked
Salt
1.5kg pork loin, ideally with a good layer of fat
4 garlic cloves, peeled
Olive oil
1 glass white wine (175ml)
400g cooked borlotti beans (fresh, dried or tinned), warmed through
1 red onion, peeled and thinly sliced
3 ripe tomatoes, diced
100ml red-wine vinegar
Basil, to finish
Combine the finely chopped herbs with a large pinch of salt. Create a tunnel through the center of the pork loin using the handle of a wooden spoon, then enlarge it by turning the handle until it is about 2cm wide.
Stuff the majority of the herb rubble into the hole, then rub the remaining herb rubble (about a tablespoon’s worth) and olive oil onto the loin. Place it in a dish or container that is slightly larger than the joint.
In the last 10 minutes of baking in an oven heated to 200C (180C fan)/390F/gas 6, pour the wine over the vegetables. Remove from oven, cover, and let stand for at least 15 minutes.
As the pork rests, prepare the bean salad. Soak the sliced onion in a mixture of the red-wine vinegar and 100 ml of water for 10 minutes, then drain, combine with the chopped tomato, some torn basil, salt, and olive oil, and then fold in the warm beans.
Thinly slice the pork and serve with the beans and roasting juices.
