Pork, mother. PORK!

Keeping to my word, I will tell you all about my mother's cooking.
The other night, I had traded hours with someone so instead of working the morning shift until afternoon, I worked the morning shift until close. I had a number of plans for that evening that included making hummus, cooking chicken, making dinner... well, a lot with food. So when my mom texted me asking if I wanted a ride home or if I wanted to run, I accepted the ride. I was tired and a little annoyed when my mom got to festival, but we did a quick walk through of the store looking for good sales (89 cents for shampoo and conditioner, and buy 2 ice cream sandwich boxes and save $7), and then we went home. I walked in, and a beautiful wafted over me. As it turns out, mom used the extra hours that I was away at work to cook up last weeks sale items (pork chops and squash). I looked at the chops, and my mouth started to water, and I was even craving the squash a little bit (but refused to admit that). We piled it all up on wild rice, and I took my first bite.
Now anyone who has cooked pork understands the difficulty of finding a balance between dry and pink. You don't want it either. My mom had nailed it. It was actually JUICY, and the meat was all white. That first bite sent heaven seeping into my taste buds. The rim of fat had a slight burn to it, just enough to give it a firm texture, and it was soaked with flavor. I ate a pound and a half of pork that night.
Between moans reminiscent of "What about Bob," I was able to ask my mom what in the world she had done to make a dinner that would make Thor sit back and bellow out his appreciation, and if I could have the recipe. She blushed a little, and said she just made it up as she went along. Needing the recipe, I quickly questioned her so that she would be able to remember what she had done. We pieced together that she had made a vinaigrette marinade, and had soaked the pork chops for a little bit, then pan seared them in a white wine (with the vinaigrette) just enough to tough the outside a little, then thrown the whole pan in the oven to cook for a bit.
Good enough. We would be able to has out the details later, but I had a rough idea on how to make the greatest meal I have ever tasted. I don't think I have ever eaten out, and not preferred my mother's variation of the dish. She is spectacular. Shrimp and chicken jambalaya, pineapple and red onion foccacia, three cheese frittata, bacon spaghetti carbonara, chicken and dumplings, soft biscuits with a sausage saw mill gravy,  juicy chicken teriyaki, Polish meat balls, and her deserts and even sandwiches just knock every thing else out of the park. The only thing I have ever had that is close to it is Il Ritrovo, and eating at Big Sal's house when visiting in-laws. He makes the best parmesen chicken.
I would love to be a food and mattress critic. It would be the perfect job for me, except for one small thing. The review would read "Bard's pork would make you go 'mmmmmm. OH!!!' and the squash would bring a 'wow!' to your lips.' I don't think that is what they are looking for. But I absolutely love food, and I am not overly picky. There are definitely things I don't want to eat, but I have grown a taste for previously shoved aside foods such as spinach and bell peppers. But buffets, all day breakfasts, old style burger joints, Italian restaurants, and my mom's cooking all make me happy. Culvers, McDonalds, and Wendy's make me happy, even though I know the food probably (understatement) isn't good for me, but it tastes good, because it is how McDonalds is SUPPOSED to taste.
I can't cook like my mother, but I want to learn how. If I could serve up dishes half as well as my mom, I will have a happy household... and I would probably become the most popular missionary in my district.