Let’s Chat Carnitas!

So, Carnitas. If you haven’t tried it yet, get ready for your kitchen to smell like an actual fiesta. I first made this on a rainy Saturday, which, honestly, felt like sort of a wild idea because pork shoulder looks intimidating when you plonk it onto your counter. My grandma once said, “Don’t trust a pork dish that doesn’t render a puddle of fat.” I only half knew what she meant until I made this. Oh, and don’t be surprised if you end up snacking straight from the pan—happens every time here (not naming names, but it’s totally me).

Why You’ll Love This (Trust Me!)

I make Carnitas when I want everyone to think I’ve been slaving in the kitchen all day, but really, I’ve just been drinking coffee and occasionally poking a bubbling pot. My family goes nuts for this because it’s so crispy and juicy at the same time. (I used to wish it didn’t splatter so much during the final crisping step—pro tip: just embrace the mess.) And you know those times you want food that’s impressive but, like, secretly easy? That’s when I pull this out.

What You’ll Need (Substitutions Included)

4 lbs pork shoulder (sometimes I get pork butt; honestly, any well-marbled chunk will do. Once totally used a smaller roast and just kept the spices the same—worked!)
1 tablespoon salt (I throw in a pinch more sometimes if I’m feeling salty—ha)
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon dried oregano (if I run out, mixed Italian herbs work okay)
1 tablespoon ground cumin (ok, sometimes I go a little heavy-handed; you do you)
1 onion, quartered (white or yellow—my neighbor uses red, which is kinda bold but hey, try it!)
6 cloves garlic, smashed (my cousin uses just 3; I judge her a little but don’t tell her)
2 bay leaves
1 orange, cut in half (I’ve subbed in a splash of orange juice when the fruit drawer lets me down)
1 cup chicken broth (water in a pinch; not quite as tasty but won’t ruin dinner)

How I Make Carnitas (and Don’t Always Follow My Own Rules)

Slice that pork shoulder into big chunks, about the size of your palm. Don’t fuss over being precise—no one’s measuring.
Plop the pork into a Dutch oven or sturdy pot. Scatter in your salt, pepper, oregano, and cumin. I usually just chuck everything else on top: onions, garlic, bay leaves, and then squeeze in the orange (get all that juicy goodness in), toss in both halves. Add the chicken broth. It’s going to look crowded and that’s fine. (This is where I typically wonder if I remembered the cumin. Three out of five times, I forget. Just toss it in when you do.)
Put a lid on, crank the heat to high until it starts bubbling, then drop to low and let it gently simmer for about 2 to 2½ hours. Flip the chunks once or twice if you remember—sometimes I don’t.
After it’s fork-tender and falling apart, fish the pork out (I use tongs and sometimes end up shredding as I go) and shred it right on a big plate; don’t fuss if you get onion bits mixed in—that’s flavor!
Here’s the fun part: put your now-shredded pork onto a rimmed baking sheet or big skillet. Pour a couple spoonfuls of the cooking juices overtop (not too much though) and broil in the oven on high for 5-8 minutes, stirring halfway. Or, sometimes I do it on the stove, just browning and flipping in a skillet. It’s slightly messier, but a bit more fun honestly. You want those crispy bits!
Sneak a taste. Wait, that’s not really a step, but it always happens right about here.
Serve with warm tortillas, salsa, cilantro, lime wedges—whatever makes you happy. (My dad puts it over rice. No judgment.)

Notes From a Slightly Scatterbrained Cook

If you forget to turn the meat while simmering, it’s really not the end of the world. Just make sure it doesn’t actually burn to the bottom (done that—and the crust was, um, “deeply caramelized”)
Try not to over-shred. Big chunks get crispier in the oven
Sometimes the sauce is super fatty—just skim a little off, no need to stress

How I Sometimes Mix It Up (Or Goof It Up)

I tried using cola instead of orange once. It was… weird, but my little brother inhaled it.
Pineapple juice adds a nice zing if you’re into that tropical twist
On one desperate night, I threw this in my slow cooker. Worked, but you’ll miss out on crispy bits unless you finish in the oven

About the Gear

I love using a Dutch oven, but you can totally use any heavy-bottomed pot. Heck, I even tried it in a beat-up old soup pot and it worked, though I had to watch it a bit closer for scorching. If you don’t have a broiler—or if yours is as unreliable as mine—a hot oven or stove-top skillet totally works for crisping.

Storing Your Carnitas (What’s Left, Anyway)

Fridge? Sure, these keep for up to 3 days in a container. Freezing works (up to 2 months), though honestly, in my house it rarely lasts past breakfast the next day because my family is like a herd of hungry raccoons.

How I Serve Carnitas (and a Brief Digression)

Tortillas are the classic in our house, usually the soft corn type. Sometimes, though, when we’re feeling lazy, we just pile it over tortilla chips with a ridiculous amount of cheese and call it nachos night. Or I sneak some into scrambled eggs for what I claim is a “breakfast taco innovation.” On a slight tangent, once my uncle tried putting Carnitas on pizza. Don’t do that. (Or, actually, do—and report back?)

Pro Tips I Had to Learn the Hard Way

Don’t rush the simmer; I once tried the shortcut with high heat and got tough, grumpy pork. Low and slow works.
Let the pork rest a few minutes before shredding or it dries out more quickly—especially if someone yells “Dinner!” before you’re ready
If you want super crispy edges, broil in batches so everything gets the hot air love

Frequently Asked Questions (I Swear These Are Real!)

Can I use pork loin? Hmm. You can, but it’ll be drier. Stick with shoulder or butt if possible—it’s kind of magic that way.
Is it spicy? Not really, unless you dump in jalapeños. Sometimes I toss in a chipotle for smokiness when the mood strikes.
Do I need lard for real carnitas? Traditionally, yes, but honestly, you get plenty of lusciousness from the pork fat itself.
Can I make this in advance? Actually, it tastes even better the next day! The flavors get all cozy together.
Do I have to broil it? You don’t have to, but you’ll miss those heavenly crispy bits. So really, why skip that?

Carnitas Recipe (Mexican Pulled Pork)