Pork again

So tonight marked round two of the pork tenderloin we started last night. Didn't do anything too ambitious here, just decided to use the leftover pork for pressed Cuban sandwiches on the grill.

I started with the half of the (slightly undercooked) pork tenderloin that we saved last night. I cut it pretty thin, into about 12 small slices, then dropped it on the hot grill for about a minute on each side. Then I brought it back inside for the sandwich assembly. Just a straight up version with which I'm sure you're all familiar: pork, ham, pickles, swiss, and mustard. We opted for ciabatta as the bread, which worked out pretty well. I used the heavy lid from our grill pan to get some good pressing action on the outside grill. All in all, the sandwich was fantastic, although it was pretty dense. JDH could only handle half and now has lunch for tomorrow. Wouldn't change a thing, although I did have trouble getting the nice blackened grill/panini marks I was hoping for, mostly because the propane for the grill was clearly running out.

On the side we made some okra with greek seasoning. An old standby for us (as I think it is for many of you), and it was just as good this time.

Overall, a pretty simple meal that took just a few minutes. It occurs to me, however, that what really makes this sandwich for me is the dill pickle. Although I wouldn't put it in my top five, it's long been a favorite (in fact, dating back to when I was just a wee lad, long before I was dropping sandwich stackers into cuban sandwiches, "Santa" used to leave me a jar of dill pickles under the tree each year -- true story). As such, I've penned a little verse to my early love. I call it "An Ode to Dills":

Of pickled treats, I cannot claim
A knack to make, or tasting fame.
But this I know, my little wit:
Pickled dills are, indeed, the shit.

A humble cuke, still fresh, unpeeled,
Vinegar'd, with spice - then sealed;
Does riseth forth, from jar so tight:
A butterfly, now taking flight.

Vlasic, Heinz, in a pinch will do,
But for you, Claussen, my love is true.
Your delicious tart, a sour punch,
But most of all, that savage crunch.

On rich grilled cheese, or Cuban pressed-
You are the star; outshine the rest.
But this one fact I must relate:
A dill alone will still elate.

So thank you, dill, for a tested rule,
I now embrace, this puckered fool:
Through thick or thin, and dark or light,
A simple dill - the f'ing shite.