It’s important to me on this site to present vintage recipes as our parents and grandparents would have prepared them.   The internet is already saturated with modernized versions of comfort food classics.  I don’t want to be one more site projecting twenty-first century food trends onto vintage recipes.  If I’m going to make a tuna casserole I’m not going to add a layer of seared rare ahi or squid ink noodles.  I’m not chasing a Michelin star.  I’ll occasionally substitute fresh vegetables for canned, but I try to capture the essence of the recipe as it existed in its original time and place.  I’d rather a recipe take me back in time than to the Whole Foods deli counter.  Occasionally I’ll seek out bizarre recipes, like California Cup or weird Jell-O salads, but I’m generally seeking out the diamonds in the rough.  Forgotten favorites of yesteryear that will bring something unique to the modern dinner table.

But preserving the past also means preserving its failures, and some old recipes are just plain bad.  Vinegar Peppers and Pork is a recipe that I’ll never, ever make again.  I was drawn to the recipe for its use of jarred banana peppers and pork shoulder, which had me thinking initially about comfort food like Mississippi pot roast.  The recipe itself had all the hallmarks of a hidden gem:  a unique set of ingredients, a generally reliable community cookbook, and association with treasured family memories.    The recipe includes an anecdote of large Sunday dinners centered around Vinegar Peppers and Pork, all cooked in a large outdoor oven.   Bonus:  the recipe was submitted by a physician.

Vinegar Peppers and Pork came to me by way of Preserving Our Italian Heritage, a 1991 cookbook compiled by the Sons of Italy Florida Foundation, now simply the Florida Foundation.  The Florida Foundation is affiliated with the Sons of Italy Foundation, the philanthropic arm of the Order Sons and Daughters of Italy in America.   Preserving Our Italian Heritage compiles recipes passed down from “the hearts and minds of our forefathers”.  The recipe selection is eclectic and varied recipe and doesn’t match my expectations of traditional Italian food. There are a lot of fascinating recipes I look forward to making:  all manner of seafood, offal in sticky sweet and sour sauces, and plenty of dishes with heroic amounts of anchovies.  I don’t know enough to know whether it’s some niche Italian-American cuisine or just little-known regional dishes.   But judging by Vinegar Peppers and Pork it may just be bad recipes.  I’m hoping its not a precursor of things to come.

Because as much as it pains me to speak ill of someone’s cherished tradition, this recipe just isn’t very good.  Vinegar Peppers and Pork tastes like the sum of its ingredients.  No more.  No less.   Pork, onions, potatoes, peppers.  The flavors don’t blend or meld or whatever:  it just tastes like you threw everything together and hoped for the best.  To be fair, the pork on its own is utterly delicious.  Pork shoulder is cubed and trimmed, seasoned, and roasted in an oven for an hour or so.  The house smelled heavenly and the pork was tender, tasty, and nicely browned.  The remaining ingredients, though, seem like an afterthought.   The oven isn’t quite hot enough to do anything but soften the potatoes and onions.  No browning.  No additional seasoning besides the reserved vinegar.  It’s not inedible, but it’s not something I’d ever consider making again.

Now it’s possible that something got lost in translation.  The original recipe calls for an outdoor brick oven, not a home oven.  The author described a crispy brown mix of pork, peppers, and potatoes.  What I got was a flaccid casserole. Maybe cherry peppers or pepperoncinis would be a better fit than banana peppers.  But I’ve searched high and low on the internet and can’t find the “real” recipe:  plenty of pork chops smothered in sauteed peppers, but nothing that resembles the dish the author describes.  And while I’m glad that this recipe brings joy to the author’s family, it won’t bring joy to yours.