Pork Chops

The fragrant marinade for these pork chops both infuses the meat with tons of flavor and ensures that the rib-cut chops, which already have slightly more fat than a center-cut chop, remain tender and moist on the grill. The sugar in the marinade helps to create a beautiful dark golden brown crust with areas of light charring. Once the chops are on the grill, refrain from moving them around too often in order to allow grill marks to form. If you'd like, grill some asparagus and sliced sweet potatoes as well to round out your meal.

Balsamic vinegar simmers with caramelized onions for a sweet and sour velvety sauce for pork chops. Pounded to tenderize rather than flatten, the pork is seasoned boldly with black pepper before crisping in a skillet. Quick enough to pull off on a weeknight, this main course will impress guests, too.

Gorgeous summer fruit and grilling are at the heart of writer Nicole A. Taylor's Juneteenth menu. Here, she takes blueberries for a savory spin, blending the berries with shallots, thyme, and chipotles in adobo to create a sticky sauce that showcases the floral notes of the fruit, while red wine and balsamic vinegar add a tart backbone that brings the flavors into focus. This sauce pairs beautifully with almost any grilled meat; here Taylor spoons it over juicy grilled pork rib chops. Summer berries tend to be sweeter; if you're cooking this recipe with out-of-season berries, gradually add sugar as needed.

Hot pan drippings and melted butter tease the essential oils out of rosemary, thyme, and sage, creating rich juices for basting pork chops during the final minutes of cooking. Thai chiles add heat to the dish; to dial back the spiciness, cut a slit in the chiles instead of halving them. Serve over mashed or roasted potatoes to help sop up the flavorful juices.

Steak who? This bone-in pork chop riff on the classic French au poivre preparation is so good, we may never go back to beef. Using a blend of peppercorns, not just classic black, adds notes of floral and vegetal spice to this simple dish. Splurge on the Pierre Poivre N.7 from La Boîte master spice blender Lior Lev Sercarz, or grind your own. Be sure to grind the peppercorns just before cooking to release the fresh aroma. This recipe is inspired by the peppery pork chop served at Anton's in New York City, which Master Sommelier Natalie Johnson loves as a special weeknight dinner, especially paired with a Corsican red wine.

Lately I have to coach myself through the meat department of my local grocery store. Take a deep breath, I tell myself. Stop scowling. Still deeply entrenched in the fat-phobic '90s, the pale, quick-cooking lean cuts of beef and pork outnumber the juicier, ruddier braising cuts three to one. And now they’ve even phased out my preferred 80/20 grind of hamburger, replacing it with ruby packs of lean 85/15 and leaner-yet 90/10. I lean on the bell, summoning the manager to explain to me why they’ve drained all the fat and flavor from the display case—phrased in a much nicer way, of course. “These days, people want lean meat,” he says with a blinking, open expression. He tells me about “heart-healthy” and “saturated fat” in simple terms, with the bottomless patience of a kindergarten teacher. In my small, admittedly food-obsessed social circle, small portions of richer, marbled meat edged out the large, plate-spanning lean ones about five years ago, but I feel suddenly out of sync—as if I’ve been transported 20 years into the past, when we spread margarine on our toast and trimmed all the fat off our steaks.So I pick up the pack of pork chops, which have been cut thin enough to hold an edge, and reconsider them. Cooking a single mammoth fatty chop and slicing it into juicy, pale-pink tranches to serve three people still seems more logical to me than overcooking one thin chop per person. I may not be wrong, but being right is a lonely game. I drop them into my cart. After all, it’s just a Wednesday night dinner, I tell myself. Let’s not be so cranky.On my drive home I think about how I’ll convert the thin chops’ deficits into advantages. Thin chops are quick to cook, which will give me time to make some interesting sides. They have a lot of surface area. If I blanket them with spices, char them hard on a hot grill pan, and top them with with a fiery cilantro-and-lime-loaded cucumber and Vidalia onion salsa—everything I love to use to garnish a taco—each chop will be one giant, plate-filling, griddle-kissed burnt end. In the kitchen, I spring into action, assembling the cucumber pico de gallo, then rubbing the chops with the mixture of spices I use to make homemade chorizo—paprika, garlic powder, a jolt of warm allspice—and throwing them on the hot grill. They smoke immediately, profusely, but I don’t give them any relief. I keep going until their tops dome, their undersides turn warning-sign dark, and I see the doneness creeping up the sides. I flip them over and cook the second side just long enough to find a platter to hold them, then whisk them off the grill.I sit down to the pork chop and zesty, fresh cucumber salsa sprawling across my plate and silently apologize to the meat manager for my earlier bad behavior. Next time, I’ll tell him that I’m a convert.