Ham roll-ups, really? How about pork tenderloin?

 

Since I'm so intrigued by vintage recipes these days--and appalled that what I cooked for my children is now vintage--I decided it's time to give a shout-out to my first cookbook. The kids each contributed memories and favorite dishes to this one, and there are pictures of each grandchild. Of course now they're all over ten years older. And, yes, that's Jacob on the cover--his pre-school dressed him in that outfit and it was too perfect not to use on the book's cover. As you can imagine, it sparked a lot of complaints among the parents of the other grandkids.

In line with my vintage interests, one member of a mystery writers’ group I belong to is starting a new series set in a vintage cookbook shop in New Orleans. Her announcement of this sparked a lot of emails about vintage recipes and images of cookbook covers. One image several people sent was a cookbook titled Cooking for Two, apparently part of a series. Don’t bother looking on Amazon, because there are literally dozens of books with that title—and I didn’t find the picture I was looking for.

The image in the emails was of ham roll-ups. Remember them? No, not the ubiquitous appetizer suggestions we have today, but the main dish, usually ham wrapped around broccoli (or maybe asparagus) and topped with a cheese sauce that was suspiciously yellow. Yep, Velveeta. The sauce alone occasioned many comments, mostly derogatory about Velveeta. I jumped in with my opinion that there are a few recipes where nothing but processed American cheese will do, and I was gratified that the author of the forthcoming series agreed with me.

But ham roll-ups is not one of them. In fact, the whole idea of roll-ups, served perhaps like crepes, is not appealing, unless you grew up eating them and the memory takes you back to your mom’s table. Even then, I think Hollandaise would be better than the cheese. To top it off, a half of a canned peach sat next to the roll-ups, with a Maraschino cherry carefully placed in it. Ah, the food of the Sixties!

Of course, part of the appeal of food from that era was the convenience. Housewives were just learning they did not have to spend their entire day in the kitchen. Some days I don’t want to either. Sometimes I want something quick and simple, and the other day I fond it in a crockpot recipe (thanks, but no Instant Pot or air fryer for me!). Crockpots are old-fashioned but reliable. Also, with this recipe, I accidentally demonstrated that a crockpot could overcome the problem of an unreliable cook. Here’s what I did:

Slow cooked pork tenderloin

About two lbs. pork tenderloin (we are at that breaking point where one is not enough and two is too much; I’d always rather have leftovers)

¼ cup white balsamic vinegar

½ cup dark brown sugar

2 Tbsp. low sodium soy sauce

1 Tbsp. corn- or potato starch

½ cup water

1 tsp. salt

½ tsp. fine ground pepper

           Put the meat in the crockpot, mix the remaining ingredients, stirring until sugar and starch are well blended into liquid, and pour over the pork. Cook on low for 6-7 hours or high for 3-5 hours.

I really need to learn to read directions more carefully. I thought it said cook on high for 6-7 and then low for 3-5, which I thought was an awful lot of cooking for a tenderloin. Nevertheless, I persisted—and realized my mistake about three hours in. So I turned it to low and let it cook the rest of the day. The meat was a little dry, but generous use of the sauce compensated for that—and the flavor was wonderful. We served it over Asian noodles.

Terrific leftovers the next day: sandwiches on rye bread with generous dollops of mayonnaise and a crisp leaf of lettuce or two. The meat shredded easily, making it perfect for sandwiches. I’ll definitely do this again and just cook it most of the day on low.

You can’t win all the time in the kitchen, but this was an instance where my carelessness—or haste—worked out just fine. I do recommend careful reading of instructions, however.