The past two months have been a bit of a rollercoaster for me. From highs like our beach wedding vow renewal ceremony and speaking at the Food Blogger Indaba, to lows like my father’s hospitalisation and unexpected death and the sad task of packing up my childhood home and parents’ treasured possessions. But the one theme that has run through all this like a golden thread has been the rich and diverse friendships that I have, and the miracle of their power to sustain, nourish and cheer me through both good and bad times.
Friendship comes in many forms. Friendship is coming to the airport as an impromptu welcoming committee on the day I flew home for my dad’s funeral. Friendship is the dozens of e-mails and heartfelt messages of support from people on my Facebook and Twitter pages, some of whom have never met me in person but were there and willing to stay up and chat on a very dark night. Friendship is rearranging your kids’ sleeping arrangements at the drop of a hat so that Aunty Jeanne can have a bedroom of her own for two weeks. Friendship is insisting on coming to help me pack up my family home – giving up evenings and weekends – and making the packing of my late mom’s clothes feel like a girly shopping trip, not a terribly sad chore. Friendship is flying from Johannesburg especially to be at my father’s funeral and support me. Friendship is giving up a precious Sunday afternoon on 10 minutes’ notice to help clean a very dusty house ahead of a viewing by a potential buyer, and for making me laugh despite the seriousness of it all. Friendship is my blogMamma‘s constant love, prayers, late-night chats on Twitter and much-needed motherly words of wisdom during a very difficult time.
Thank you, my treasured friends. You are irreplaceable.
Friendship is also wrapped up in the rituals of eating, and one of my favourite ways of hnouring a particular friend is to make a dish that they taught me to make. The very first person that I ever met online on this blog and then went on to meet in real life was my dear friend Johanna. We had exchanged blog comments and chatted online for a few months and figured out that we had quite a lot in common. Eventually we planned to meet up in person and I still remember being fine about it until I got out of the Tube station close to the restaurant. Then I was suddenly gripped with all sorts of misgivings. What if she stood me up, sniggering at my disappointment from behind dark glasses in a cafe across the street? What if we sat down and had nothing to say to each other? What if she was an axe-murderer (or a 16-year old boy!)? Clearly my subconscious hates me.
But none of these awful possibilities came to pass – we were as compatible in person as we were on our blogs and our planned glass of wine turned into two bottles and an evening of non-stop chatter. We have seldom stopped talking since – through good times and parties; through family dramas and bereavements; through expensive restaurants and home-cooked meals; and even a road trip through Austria. I have watched her gorgeous kids growing up and I was even chosen by her daughter to be her honourary “Aunty” – a rare honour indeed! Understandably, we were both devastated at having to say goodbye when Johanna moved to Singapore last year. I can’t begin to calculate the hours we have spent in various kitchens together, or the number of dishes that Johanna has inspired me to make. But one of the dishes that most reminds me of her is the divine Schweinsbraten from her native Austria that she taught me to make. Every time I make it, I miss her company; but as the meat cooks, the warm, spicy smell wraps itself around me, as familiar and comforting as a warm hug from a friend.
There really is no rocket science to this roast – the only fiddly bit is the seasoning of the meat, and remembering to turn up the oven’s heat gradually. But the end result is utterly spectacular: meat as tender as pulled pork, infused with garlic and spice, and crackling that you would sell your grandmother for – trust me, it’s that good.
AUSTRIAN SCHWEINSBRATEN (slow-roast shoulder of pork) – serves 6-8
Ingredients:
1.8kg pork shoulder
about 20 cloves of garlic
1 Tbsp salt
1 Tbsp black pepper
2 Tbsp ground coriander seeds
2 Tbsp ground caraway seeds
1 Tbsp ground cumin seeds
water
Method:
If your meat has come from a supermarket packaged in a twine “stocking”, cut off the stocking. Make sure that the fat is scored. If not, score it yourself: using a very sharp knife, make parallel cuts about 1cm apart all over the fat. Make sure you cut through the tough skin, but do not cut all the way down into the meat.
Peel the garlic and cut about three quarters of the cloves into sticks, which you will use to stud the meat. Turn the meat over so that it is lying fat side down. Use a thin kitchen knife to prick holes all over the pork, sliding the garlic sticks over the blade into the meat before removing the knife. Leave aout 1cm between each hole and stud the meat all over. Rub the pork generously all over with the salt, pepper and spice mix. As Johanna says “if you feel you are using obscene amonts of spice, you have the quantities just about right”.
Turn the meat over so that the skin side is up. Stud the fat with garlic sticks as described above. Crush the rest of the garlic and smear over the roast, including the skin, taking care to work it into the cuts scored in the fat; then rub all over (meat and fat) generously with the remaining salt, pepper and spice mix (grind more if you have to!). Allow the meat to soak up the flavours for a long as possible, preferably overnight.
Place the pork skin-up in an casserole with lid. Add enough water so that the base of the casserole is covered with about an inch of water. Cover with lid and try to cook as long and slow as possible – bank on at least 3.5 hours. Place the casserole in cold oven and immediately turn the temperature to 150C. Raise the temperature by about 10C every half an hour, until in the last hour you reach 220C. During cooking, frequently baste the pork with the cooking juices – baste at least once every half an hour when you turn up the temperature.
Take the lid off in about the last half-hour of cooking so that the crackling crisps up nicely – you can help it along by turning the grill on high for the final 15 minutes of cooking.
I served mine with boiled new potatoes and white cabbage with bacon and caraway seeds.
Here are some more bloggers feasting on pork:
- Portuguese pork ribs from Andrew
- Slow-roast pork belly from Michelle
- Pork-tastic Brazilian feijoada from Rosana
Don’t forget that this month I am hosting the Monthly Mingle, my darling sister Meeta’s monthly event. The theme is Topless Tarts and you have until 30 April to get your entries to me! Full details are available on my announcement post.
Colleen says
What are mammas for if not to comfort, love and support hmmmm?? Special love to you and hope that you are feeling so much better. Think of you so often. This is a delicious sounding recipe. I have never spiced a pork roast before and am definitely going to try this method. Thank you so much for sharing Johanna’s recipe. Big fat moo hugs xx
Nisrine M. says
Sorry for the loss of your father. Friends are what keeps us going in times like these and I’m sure your’re surrounded by many.
Hugs
Johanna says
Oh you made me cry with this post, Jeanne, I miss you so much it’s unreal! Glad the schweinsbraten is some kind of comfort… Hope we can cook together soon, be it in London or Singapore! Xox
Krista says
I’m so very, very glad you have such treasured friends to love and care for you, Jeanne. I’m so sorry to hear of your Dad’s passing. I’m teary with you after losing my “second Dad” this week. I love this dish and the comfort it brings you. 🙂
meeta says
Friends stick with it through thick and thin – glad you had loved friends looking after you at such a difficult time Jeanne. The Schweinsbraten looks sensational!
Firefly says
Oh man….. That’s what pork should look like after being prepared properly. I think I need to do one of these.
Rosemary says
It’s a joy to discover the truth that friendship isn’t a big thing – it’s a million little things.
Love the roast pork recipe, certainly brings back wonderful childhood memories of Sunday lunches. My Dad has a allergy to pork, but loves to eat it, so we would always only have it had lunch time, so he could deal with the allergies before bedtime! Strange family I have!
Nic says
That does look like the best pork shoulder ever, full of flavour with the spices. And thank goodness for good friends, looks like you have some of the best!
kadirecipes says
This is a very nice post. I just wanted to cry. Yep this is what we call real friend.
The recipe look nice
Charlie says
I’ve just read this with a lump in my throat – the power of words x
Emma says
Recipe sounds amazing and am in tears reading your words, reminded me of how alone I felt packing up the threads of my beloved Grandfather’s life when he passed away suddenly last year. Friendships sustain you when you think all else is lost. *hugs*
neil says
A really wonderfully warm post about such a trying time in your life. Yes, we are always here for you. Love your schweinsbraten, that’s right down my alley.
Sally - My Custard Pie says
Lovely post and recipe…I hope the writing helps with coming through this difficult time as well as solid friendships.
Barbara says
A lovely post Jeanne.
norma says
I want to rip that skin right of and devour it…..
Katie says
Lovely roast – I happen to have one in my fridge just waiting…
You have had a roller coaster – and I’m not sure which is more difficult – riding it or getting off when it all settles down. Still sending warm thoughts your way…
Barbara @ Modern Comfort Food says
This looks simply perfect, Jeanne, and so in keeping with the ingredients and flavors I love. Johanna’s comment — “”if you feel you are using obscene amounts of spice, you have the quantities just about right” — is one that I’m totally on board with when it comes to pork roast. A beautiful post and recipe.
Kit says
This sounds so good, I must try it next time we have pork a pork roast – I’ll think of you and Johanna both!
Karen says
oh, this sounds sooo good. I love garlic in large amounts. Thank you for the recipe.
Brad says
Hi, are you sure that you mean to increast the temperature by 100C every half hour? if that’s correct, after the first half hour I’m at 250C, hotter than your maximum 220C quoted for “the last hour”…
Am I reading this incorrectly?
Debra Triplett says
I love Austria, my mother is not a cook but she is from Austria. I am an accomplished cook and this recipe was like eating food from Some other country. I ground my spices fresh and the cumin was so overpowering. It was not good