Barbecue Pork Sliders (in the Crock Pot)

You want me. You know you want me.

There are some foods that are such outrageous crowd pleasers that you feel like a jerk to so often subject everybody to your lentil loaves and kale goulash when all you’d have to do to make everyone’s day is ignore a piece of pork in the crock pot for 5 hours. (In my defense, given that some of our nearest and dearest are vegetarians and/or observant Muslims, this would not always be a viable option.)

Also from this angle, you still want me.

But when Ben’s birthday came around, and I offered to make him anything his little heart desired (short of deep frying, which is what God invented the chicken-wing place for), this is what he picked.

For the record, I do not like the white buns! I like the pork, straight-up. Although, full disclosure, I like a less sweet shredded pork even better.

Specifically what he picked was “Nancy Stekl’s barbecue pork sliders,” which our beloved and generous neighbor brings to every potluck—on an enormous platter—while I’m busy trying to force the entire neighborhood to choke down whatever turnip-spelt concoction our farm share has led me too.

teenagers + bbq pork sliders = good

When I emailed Nancy a couple of years ago to ask for the recipe, this is what she wrote:

“Catherine, it's hopelessly lame; I just rubbed some Cajun spices on some pork butt, put it in some sliced onions in the crock pot, added about 1 cup of chicken stock and let it go. When it was done (maybe 5 hours on high), I shredded it and dumped in a bottle of traders joes BBQ sauce and warmed it up again.”

Why Nancy, that *is* hopelessly lame! I’m kidding. What it is is brilliantly simple.

Why is your pork wearing an elastic obstetric panty? I don't know.

Okay, the truth is, I *do* know. Out of its panty, the pork is not attractive. Just rub it down with the spice mixture, and try not to think about it too much.

It ends up tasting like the pork barbecue you’d get at maybe not the very best bbq place you ever went to, but a pretty darn good one. The meat is shreddy and tender, sweet and smoky and perfect. Cajun seasoning appears to be a mixture of salt, red pepper, black pepper, thyme, celery seed, paprika, garlic, and onion, and it's good here. You could probably mix some up yourself, but I bought it bulk at Whole Foods. Because I am very obedient.

"Ma, ma, it's too crowded in here!" I actually ended up doing this whole batch in the Dutch oven in a 300 oven for 5 hours. Unless your crock pot is huge, you cannot double the recipe, it turns out.

Serving this on slider buns is really kind of gilding the lily here. Or forcing the lily to root itself in refined flour? Something. It is not my typical MO, as you know. But it was Ben’s special request, after all, so we went for it. In my dream world, there would also be coleslaw. But it wasn’t my birthday now, was it?

When it was done cooking, but not yet shredded, it looked like this.

Fall-Apart Barbecue Pork (in the Crock Pot)
Makes 4-8 servings, depending on a lot of factors, including how many teenagers are eating with you and whether any of them are vegetarians. (I made bbq tofu sliders too! I don't have as much to say about them, in truth, but they were pretty good.) This is my very basic $15 slow cooker.

1 (3-3 ½ pound) boneless pork butt (this might be called boneless picnic shoulder)

2 teaspoons kosher salt

2 teaspoons Cajun seasoning

1 onion, sliced

1 cup chicken broth (water would probably be fine, honestly)

1 bottle barbecue sauce (I use Trader Joe’s Bold and Smokey Kansas City Style)

Okay, ready for how hard this is? Take the pork out of its elastic panty, if it’s wearing one, and rub it all over with the salt and seasoning. Now put the onion in the bottom of the crock pot, lay the pork on top of it, and pour in the chicken broth. Cook on high for 5 or 6 hours (or on low for 8 or more hours) until the pork falls apart if you so much as look at it. (More exactly: Press a piece of pork with a wooden spoon. If it doesn’t yield into shreds, it’s not ready.)

At this point, I behave in a slightly fussy manner. I remove the meat to a plate, let it cool slightly, and then use a fork and/or my fingers to remove anything that looks like someone wouldn’t want to eat it. Pieces of skin or large pieces of fat or connective tissue (although, in truth, most of the nasty stuff is dissolved, in a good way). While you’re doing this, the pork will more or less shred itself, but if it doesn’t, use a fork or two to help it along.

Put the pork back into the crock pot and stir it around with the liquid,* then add the barbecue sauce, stir it, and cook on low for another hour. Serve on buns or not, as you prefer.

* If there is a lot of liquid, I sometimes transfer the whole thing to a Dutch oven at this point, so that I can heat it in the oven with the lid off and reduce the liquid a little. Which is not really in the spirit of crock-pot convenience, I realize.