Chili Crisp Pork Loin

Chili Crisp Pork Loin, The Saison.

In the vast and intricate landscape of Chinese cuisine, arguably the most enduring and encyclopedic in the world, pork is not a protein but a principle.

It is the first meat listed, the most frequently invoked, the default against which others are measured. In Mandarin, rou (肉), the word for meat, implicitly means pork unless specified otherwise. To eat meat, in most cases, has long meant to eat pig.

This culinary centrality is no accident. China is both the world's largest consumer and producer of pork, and has been for centuries. But numbers obscure the more intimate truth: pork is not simply popular—it is woven into the grammar of taste, family, and memory. From hong shao rou (red-braised pork belly), lacquered with sugar and soy sauce until it trembles, to the austere, fermented funk of preserved pork hung from rafters in the countryside, it is through pork that Chinese cuisine expresses its most essential dialects.

The domestication of pigs in China dates back over 9,000 years, to the Neolithic settlements along the Yellow River. These were not simply farm animals but adaptable creatures that could eat kitchen scraps, reproduce quickly, and be slaughtered for festivals or emergencies. Their very biology suited the rhythms of peasant life: cyclical, improvisational, rooted in thrift. As agrarian life deepened, so too did the symbolic weight of the pig. It came to signify abundance, fertility, and domestic harmony. The Chinese character for “home” (家) contains the radical for pig beneath a roof—a cartographic emblem of sustenance.

Pork’s evolution in the Chinese kitchen mirrors the nation’s own. In the imperial courts of the Tang and Song dynasties, it was elevated to delicacy, perfumed with cinnamon bark, lotus seeds, or wine. In the marketplaces of Sichuan or Hunan, it was seared and spiced until unrecognizable. In the steamer baskets of Guangdong, it was tucked into dumplings with mushroom and chive. Across regional cuisines, pork became both mirror and mask: a meat capable of infinite transformation.

But pork’s role is not purely gustatory. It has served as a bellwether of state power. The availability and price of pork have long been politically sensitive issues, often viewed as proxies for broader economic stability. During the Maoist years, pork was rationed, and to receive a few ounces for a wedding banquet was to glimpse the state’s shifting threshold of generosity. Even now, Chinese pork reserves—yes, reserves—are monitored and released like oil. It is difficult to imagine a parallel elsewhere: a commodity both sacred and bureaucratized, intimate and geopolitical.

There is an irony, of course, in pork’s ubiquity. The very familiarity that makes it beloved also renders it invisible. Yet to eat pork in China is to engage with layers of history—of class, of migration, of dynasty, of famine, of triumph. The flavor is less a note than a chord, built on time and temperature, technique and inheritance.

What does it mean for a nation’s cuisine to be anchored by a single animal? It means that even the most fleeting meal—a street-side bun, a noodle stall’s broth—is implicated in an epic. Pork in China is not just food. It is narrative. It is structure. It is memory cooked down until tender.

Chili Crisp Pork Loin, The Saison.

Ingredients

Makes 3-4 servings

1 lb. pork loin
1 tablespoon of Chinese five spice powder
1/2 cup of hoisin sauce
1 tablespoon of fish sauce
1 tablespoon of sesame oil
1 tablespoon of rice wine vinegar
3 tablespoons of chili crisp oil
2 tablespoons of soy sauce
2 tablespoons of red fermented bean curd
3 tablespoons of honey
Salt and pepper

Directions

1. Whisk together all of the liquid ingredients, plus the Chinese five spice powder, in a medium-sized bowl and add the pork loin. Toss to coat in the marinade. Alternately, you can add the marinade and pork to a plastic ziploc bag.

2. Marinate the pork overnight or for at least 6 hours in the fridge.

3. When ready to roast, preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

4. Season the pork on both sides with salt and pepper and place on a wire rack on top of a baking pan.

5. Roast for 25-30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes.

6. Slice and serve on a platter alongside greens and rice. Drizzle with additional chili crisp oil if desired.