25-Minute Cerdo en Salsa Verde (The Sunday Tenderloin Shortcut)
Sunday comfort usually means babysitting a pork shoulder for three hours. Listen, we are not suffering for dinner. My abuela used to spend all Sunday on her cerdo en salsa verde, filling the house with the smell of roasting tomatillos and slow-cooked pork. I wanted that same Oaxacan hug for my family, but on a Brooklyn weeknight timeline—like, before someone asks for a snack. That’s where this 25-Minute Cerdo en Salsa Verde was born. The secret? We swap the heavy shoulder for a quick-seared pork tenderloin. You’re going to sear it fast, then build a blistered tomatillo braise right in the same skillet. The pork drippings catch the tangy tomatillos and a little onion, creating a velvety sauce in minutes. This dish is special to me because it proves we don't have to choose between real flavor and real life. Make it yours: Bodega Mode: Can't find fresh tomatillos? A jar of good quality salsa verde works. Just doctor it up with fresh cilantro and a splash of lime at the end. Heat Check: Skip the jalapeño seeds if the kids are eating, or add a charred serrano if you want that extra pow. Taste it—then decide. Serve with a stack of warm corn tortillas. Ándale, dinner is done!
Featured Recipe
25-Minute Cerdo en Salsa Verde (The Sunday Tenderloin Shortcut)
Sunday comfort usually means babysitting a pork shoulder for three hours. We are doing no such thing. By swapping shoulder for quick-seared pork tenderloin and building a fast, blistered tomatillo braise in the same skillet, we get all that deep, tangy Oaxacan-style comfort before someone even asks what’s for dinner.
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Timeline
Ingredients
- 1.5 lbs Pork tenderloin(Silver skin removed, sliced into 1-inch thick medallions)
- 1.5 tsp Kosher salt(Plus more to taste)
- 1/2 tsp Ground cumin
- 1 tbsp Neutral oil(Avocado or canola)
- 1 lb Fresh tomatillos(Husked, rinsed to remove the sticky film, and halved)
- 1/2 medium White onion(Roughly chopped)
- 2 whole Garlic cloves(Peeled)
- 1 whole Jalapeño or serrano pepper(Halved (seeds removed if your kids complain about heat))
- 1/2 cup Chicken broth(Low-sodium)
- 1/2 cup Fresh cilantro(Leaves and tender stems, roughly chopped)
- 1 15-oz can Pinto beans(Rinsed and drained (cannellini or white beans work too))
- 1 whole Lime(Cut into wedges)
- 2 tbsp Mexican crema(Optional, for serving)
Instructions
- 1
Place the sliced 1.5 lbs pork tenderloin on a board and press down gently with the palm of your hand to flatten them slightly. Season all over with 1.5 tsp kosher salt and 1/2 tsp ground cumin.
3 min
Tip: Tenderloin is a lean machine; we want medallions thick enough that they don't dry out, but thin enough to cook fast.
- 2
Heat a large heavy skillet (cast iron if you have it) over medium-high heat. Add 1 tbsp neutral oil. Once it shimmers, add the pork medallions in an even layer. Sear undisturbed until a golden-brown crust forms on the bottom, about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and sear 1 minute on the other side. Remove the pork to a plate. (It will not be fully cooked yet—don't panic!)
5 min
Tip: Leave the pork fat and brown bits in the pan! That is free flavor for our salsa verde.
- 3
Lower the heat to medium. Right into that same skillet, add the halved 1 lb fresh tomatillos, 1/2 medium white onion, 2 garlic cloves, and 1 jalapeño or serrano pepper. Let them blister and char in the pork drippings for about 5 minutes, tossing occasionally.
6 min
Tip: Mom math: While the pork sears in Step 2, you have exactly enough time to husk and rinse your tomatillos. Just remember to wash off that sticky film—nobody wants that in their sauce.
- 4
Carefully scrape the blistered tomatillos, onion, garlic, and jalapeño into a blender. Add 1/2 cup chicken broth and 1/2 cup fresh cilantro. Blend until mostly smooth but still a little rustic.
2 min
Tip: Taste it—then decide. If it's too tart, a tiny pinch of sugar balances it. If you need more salt, add it now.
- 5
Pour the green sauce back into the skillet over medium-low heat. Stir in the 1 15-oz can pinto beans. Nestle the seared pork medallions (and any juices from the plate) back into the sauce. Let it simmer gently for 4-5 minutes until the pork is cooked through and the sauce thickens slightly.
6 min
Tip: This is a quick braise! Do not let it boil aggressively or the pork will turn into pencil erasers.
- 6
Remove from heat. Squeeze half of the 1 lime directly over the skillet. Serve in shallow bowls with warm corn tortillas, a drizzle of 2 tbsp Mexican crema, and remaining lime wedges on the side.
2 min
Tip: The creamy beans combined with the bright, acidic salsa verde is the high-payoff move here. Serve with rice if you need to stretch it for a bigger crowd.
Chef's Notes
Pantry Mode: If you can't find good fresh tomatillos, grab a 16-oz jar of your favorite store-bought salsa verde. Skip the blistering step, but still sear your onion, garlic, and jalapeño in the pork fat for 2 minutes, then pour the jarred salsa in to deglaze. It’s not quite the same, but we’re not suffering for dinner.
María “Mari” Santiago
Oaxacan comfort, Brooklyn shortcuts, weeknight bright.
María “Mari” Santiago was born in Oaxaca, where her earliest kitchen memories are measured in scent: chiles toasting on a comal, cinnamon and chocolate blooming in mole, and the warm, nutty snap of a tlayuda folded in half for the walk home. She learned by watching—first her tías, then her abuela—picking up the small, practical rules that never made it into written recipes: how to tell when the garlic is *just* right, how to rescue a too-spicy salsa, and why you always taste the broth before you add the salt. Now in Brooklyn, Mari cooks the food she grew up on while raising two little kids and juggling real-life time limits. Her style is “real flavor, real life”: traditional Oaxacan and everyday Mexican dishes—moles, caldos, frijoles, enfrijoladas, salsas, and crispy tlayudas—made weeknight-friendly with smart shortcuts, brighter salsas, and more vegetables without losing the soul of the dish. She’s not precious about rules, she’s big on swaps, and she’s on a mission to prove that you can cook deeply flavorful Mexican food with what you can actually find at a normal grocery store (and still get dinner on the table before a meltdown). Mari’s recipes read like a friend texting you from the produce aisle: clear, funny, and unpretentious, with a side of abuela wisdom. If there’s a hard-to-find ingredient, she gives you a realistic alternative, tells you what will change (and what won’t), and keeps the focus where it belongs—on food that tastes like home, even when home is a small Brooklyn kitchen.