going a bit fruity

You are probably thinking the same thing I did when I saw that photograph.

It could be the cover of the November Bon Appétit -- under a headline: "6 Holiday Soups You Can Make Without A Bit of Arugula."

But, it isn't. It is simply my daily produce purchase from Hawaii. This time, fruit only. And that is unusual.

I am not a fan of fruit. Sweet foods hold little interest for me. The big exception is limes. We go through two dozen in about three days. If the house were not an alcohol-free zone, I would think someone was making a killing in daiquiris.

Even though I do not care for fruit, Omar is quite partial to it. The apples and the mandarins were for his school lunch and snacks.

But the oranges were for me, not him. I had purchased what I thought was an excellent piece of pork loin that called out for Cuban treatment. By that, I do not mean beaten and then tossed into jail. I was thinking of pork marinated in sour orange.

Unfortunately, sour oranges are very difficult to find here. But we do have oranges and limes, and they make a passable substitute. Combined with rice and black beans (along with an appropriate measure of the aptly-named habanera), it would be a dish that had it been offered to Hernán Cortés, he may never have set sail from Havana, and Moctezuma XXIII's signature would appear on the visas of tourists driving down from Huron, South Dakota.

Pork is my favorite meat to work with in Mexico. It has a porky taste that I remember from my childhood. But pork loin (or lomo) is a tricky piece of meat. My butcher always grimaces when I request it because he knows that even when cooked perfectly, it can easily turn tough as shoe leather.

To retain its tenderness, it needs to be cooked for a very brief period at a high temperature -- and without liquids. That is why it is a perfect candidate for stir-frying.

I skipped that method yesterday. Instead, I decided to cook it under pressure for three minutes in the Instant Pot.

There are as many marinades for Cuban pork as there are recipes for carne adobada. I alter mine each time I make the dish. Sour orange juice and zest (or or a combination of lime and orange). Fresh oregano. Garlic. Cumin. Habanero (of course, with its capital-inspired name). Salt. Pepper. And one or two other things that I do not recall this morning.

I should have realized I had a problem when I cut the loin into three pieces. My freshly-sharpened knife labored to slice through it. I was successful only by cleavering it.

And I was correct. When it came out of the Instant Pot, it was cooked perfectly with a nice rosy hue in the center, but it was just as tough to eat as it was to slice.

My original plan was to serve it sliced atop the rice and black bean dish I had just made. Without bragging (but I will), it was one of the best rice dishes I have concocted. But the disparity in texture with pork would not have been a good combination. So, I diced a few slices of the pork, mixed it in with the rice, and then topped it off with a cabernet au jus from the freezer. It was palatable.

This morning, I tried an experiment. In the past, I have noticed that if a piece of meat is tough while hot, sometimes it will become tender when cold. To test that theory, I made a bowl of cold pork and rice for breakfast. It was superb. The meat was still a little chewy, but it had somehow turned tender in the refrigerator. And, while cold, I could taste each layer of the marinade on the pork.

I guess my bottom line is that even though I am not fond of fruit, it can often make a great adjunct to salvaging a meal almost-gone-bad.

As Julia would say: "Bon Appétit!"