Doug's Grilled Pork Tenderloin with Asparagus
The dish that became an Easter tradition the moment it arrived at the table
Jennifer Ann Blair writes. Food, wine, a German Shepherd named Archie, and whatever the day brings.
The platter arrived at the table, and I wasn’t expecting it to look like that…
Crusty, caramelized, deeply brown - sliced and presented like something from a restaurant kitchen. I’m not a huge pork lover, if I’m honest. But my Aunt Kathy had offered to make it and mentioned it was a recipe from my cousin Doug, so I decided to go along with it. What I didn’t know was that she had called her daughter-in-law, Kelsey, that morning just to get the recipe right, because it had become one of her favorites, and she wanted to make it for us. Kathy is one of us, a fellow foodie who understands exactly why certain recipes deserve to be passed along. A retired nutritionist, she loves developing, collecting, and protecting the recipes she loves. This was one of them. Doug had brought it to Wisconsin from Missouri, and once Kathy tasted it, it earned a permanent place in her rotation.
Kathy had marinated the pork early that morning so it could become even more tender and succulent by dinner. Dan, my uncle, handled the grill. He always does. Our family is full of people who know how to tend a grill. Pizza ovens, fancy grills, 1980s originals, grill pans, cast iron everywhere. You learn it without being taught.
When I tasted the pork, I was pleasantly surprised. Tender, moist, smoky, savory, sweet, all at once, from a marinade built from six pantry ingredients. Kathy paired it with asparagus, roasted and plated with red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper. I’m not sure whether the asparagus was Doug’s idea or hers, but it was perfectly matched. I’ve since simplified the finishing. Warm the reserved marinade to a boil, add a little Dijon mustard, and pour it over the pork and asparagus. A buttery garlic glaze on the asparagus is optional but highly recommended.
Thanks, Doug, for creating and sharing such a delightful dish. Thanks, Dan, for grilling up a masterpiece. And thanks, Kathy, for carrying the recipe from Wisconsin to California, and for making it for us that day.
This recipe now lives in our family history, right here.
Easter comes this Sunday. I wanted you to have a delicious but supremely simple dish to bring to your table. As the kids in our family have grown older, the egg hunts have slowed, the master cooking and cleanup have quieted, and this year we make our way to Temecula to let someone else wait on us and sip in the goodness of the season. But I remember all those lovely years running around various family yards chasing eggs, or helping the little ones find them, wink-wink. One year, my sister’s very good friend, Myra, added confetti eggs to the mix. The adults had a blast. My niece was not impressed by all that confetti in her hair until the candy showed up, at which point she forgot all about it. It’s still one of the best memories I have.
Spring is at its best right now. Asparagus is at its best. Pink, red, orange skies at sunset. Birds settling into new nests. Confetti in everyone's hair. Doug's pork tenderloin carries all of that now. Simple, bright, and worth gathering around.
As many of you know, I love Pinot Noir. And so does pork.
The wine’s bright cherry and earthy undertones are a natural counterpoint to the sweet-tangy marinade, and its silky texture complements the pork’s tenderness.
Let it breathe while the grill heats up.
The Recipe
Some recipes arrive without ceremony and never leave. This is one of them.
Serves 6-8 | Prep: 15 minutes plus 4-6 hours for marinating | Cook: 25 minutes
The Marinade
1 cup soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
½ cup brown sugar
½ cup white vinegar
½ cup orange juice
2 tsp kosher salt
½ tsp garlic powder
Combine all six ingredients in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves completely. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Pour over the tenderloins in a shallow dish or zip-lock bag.
The smell at this stage - sweet, tangy, savory - is the first sign you’ve made something worth waiting for. Marinate for 4-6 hours or overnight in the refrigerator.
The Pork
3 lbs pork tenderloin (2 tenderloins)
2 tbsp olive oil
Remove the tenderloins from the marinade and reserve the liquid. Heat a grill or grill pan over medium heat and add the olive oil. Grill on all sides until deeply browned, caramelized, and charred at the edges - internal temperature 145°F.
This is not the moment to rush. The crust is everything. Rest for 3-5 minutes before slicing.
The Sauce
Reserved marinade
1 tsp Dijon mustard
While the pork rests, pour the reserved marinade into a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Add 1 tsp Dijon mustard, then bring to a boil, whisking to combine. Reduce until slightly thickened and glossy.
It will deepen from gold to amber. Watch it carefully. This sauce is what makes this plate extraordinary.
The Asparagus
1 lb fresh asparagus, trimmed
½ cup butter, softened
3 garlic cloves, minced
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring a wide pot of water to a boil. Place the trimmed asparagus in a steamer basket above the water. Cover and steam for 5 minutes, until bright green and just tender with a little life left in it. While steaming, whisk the butter, garlic, salt, and pepper.
Serve
Slice the pork into medium-thin rounds and arrange on the plate. Lay the asparagus alongside. Drop a spoonful of softened garlic butter directly onto the warm asparagus and let it melt into and over the spears. Ladle the reduced marinade over both the pork and the asparagus.
Next Time
Leftover pork, reinvented, a California spring taco spread, and a citrus tajin margarita.
Before You Go
What’s on your Easter table this year? Have you ever had a dish that showed up one day and never left? The one that came from a cousin, an aunt, a neighbor who handed it over without ceremony, and suddenly it became a permanent member of your family recipe collection?
I’m at the table. Write back. I read every one.
If this landed, tap the heart. It helps more people find the table.
Jennifer Ann Blair writes about what’s worth remembering — a recipe, a person, a new tradition.