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Photo: Annabelle Breakey / Styling: Dan Becker
While preparing a weekly menu this weekend, I became struck with the need to savor an aristocratic meal. Should it be an extraordinary lamb roast or the complexity of a Julia Child duck? But I like basic meals of simplicity – I like to let the beef, poultry, fish or pork speak for itself.
I wanted the exquisite tenderness of a filet, but not beef. I had a wonderful roast chicken not long ago. Last night I had just finished a pan seared/braised salmon – and oh, what to do now. Pork is a favorite of mine. The variety of dishes and sauces are unending. And, wanting to stay with my roots of simple and flavorful, a pork tenderloin immediately struck me as the meal to make. Quickly, my anticipation of a “setting fit for the gods” became my edict.
It was Sunday afternoon, and my butcher was closed. Damn…! Guests were to be served at 5. Now what? Ok, there were the usual places – Dominick’s, Jewel, Joe Caputo & Sons. I also needed to stock up on my “everyday” Vendange cabernet sauvignon, and I discovered that Meijer’s had the best price in town. Off I went. I’ll get my pork tenderloin, somewhere.
I much prefer smaller specialty shops. At my age, if I have to deal with more than 12 aisles, I become irritable and impatient. No store should have more than 12 aisles. Ten or less would be ideal. My butcher has one counter, and that’s it; I know just where to find him; I get to chit chat with customers, while waiting. Tickets in hand, people are shoulder to shoulder – we become a small, temporary family. Aromas of fennel and sweet Italian sausage being handmade are wafting our senses relentlessly. Knives are being sharpened in the air with steels and cleavers are pounding the blocks – oh, what symphonies to my ear. You notice the sawdust on the oak floor, while numbers are being called.
I now know where to go. It’s aisle 8, I think – still not sure. As I get closer, I won’t miss it. I pack 6 bottles. At only $5.99 for each 1.5 liter, how can you go wrong? Now, it is not a 2000 Clos Du Val Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon at $95, but it does not have to be. And I have had Cabs at $200+ that I would never seek out again. So, don’t send me e-mails, my Vendange is as good as it gets.
Ok, time to go for the tenderloin…now there is a dilemma – where to go. As I was heading for the registers, I saw the large “deli” sign. I hesitated, but went “just to see” what was there. None were displayed behind the glass, but there they were next to me on a wheeled cart, four boxes empty and 2 boxes remaining – 6 in one, two in another.
The counter was not busy. I was looking at them. The butcher exploded through the swinging doors and asked if he could help me – a thin man, friendly, I felt as if I had known him for a while. I was comfortable. A stout woman came by and took one. “Yes, are these tender? They look good – lean. I’ve never purchased meats from Meijer’s,” I stated.
“These are the best you’ll find, anywhere,” he claimed. He then proceeded to tell me how Meijer’s is known for its high quality meats. That took me off guard. I was silently thinking “sure it is – good sales pitch.” But, what else could he say? A well dressed woman, obviously well to do, with a small empty store basket under her right arm and a smile stopped and took 2 tenderloins.
The butcher burst out with “I might as well not bother putting them into the display. I can’t get them fast enough.” Quickly he disappeared and quickly he returned with 4 more boxes and placed them on the cart. Sensing a need for urgency, I hurriedly looked at them and selected one which I thought was the best, for myself – with no intention of buying it, of course. But I felt secure more secure, lest they all disappear.
Somehow we found ourselves involved in a conversation, reminiscing about cars of old. His face was beaming. He was proud to tell me about his collection. He had a Chrysler Barracuda, year such-and-such, I can’t recall, restored into pristine condition. His life could not be better. He disappeared again.
A man came by with a full cart of groceries, saying, “Here they are, I thought they were out.” Instinctively I seized the opportunity and replied with, “You’ve bought these before? Are they tender?” He responded, “Tender is an understatement. These are the best – won’t buy tenderloin anywhere else.” I thought I was being set up, but now my interest was piqued. It was time to do a thorough marketing inquisition. Well, I’ll talk to the next customer, anyway.
Almost instantly, another woman stepped up – tall and slim, a beautiful brunette. So, now I had two missions, one to get her attention and flirt and the other to gain an insight into the qualities of the tenderloin, if she was familiar with them. “Excuse me,” I said, “I’m thinking about buying one, have you had these before?” (I should ask her to marry me, too – she looked sharp, intelligent and full of positive life).
“Yes, these are wonderful. I always buy them here. I recommend you try one.” I felt as if I were a teenager who finally had enough courage to ask a girl out for the movies. I’m over 60 and she could not have been a day over 40 – shame on me. “Thanks, I think I might,” I retorted.
The butcher reappeared, complaining that corporate had only ordered forty boxes. He told them to order 100. He was going to run out and give customers rain-checks. “I hate doing that, customers need to get what they want.” He derided corporate, some more. But he was also quick to tell me a brief story of how Meijer’s got started from a small family business. He could not have made it more obvious, how proud he was of his association with the company. The complaining was just his way of showing he cared. I liked this guy.
A decision was made. I thanked him for his conversations. I left, keeping the pork tenderloin. When I arrived at home, I immediately pan seared and baked dinner.
I have purchased many types of tenderloin from chains, smaller specialty shops and butchers. I have eaten some of the best during my travels. Without reservation, I can say that when I pulled these from the oven, let them rest for 10 minutes and then cut into them, I knew I had something extraordinary. They sliced better than most filet mignons I’ve had, at any price. Before searing, I only slightly seasoned them with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder.
If I were to describe their texture and character, I have to put them on par with Kobe beef. My guests were stunned. We ate without saying much. The four of us finished both tenderloins and did not feel ashamed. I called the dinner Pork Mignon.
I will get another one from this store and, if performance repeats, my butcher will have to explain himself. I’ll follow this up and let you know.
For the preparation and recipe, go to Pork Mignon under the Main Courses menu.
Guten Appetit...!
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