Catching Up Over Pork Marsala and Mushrooms

Alright, so you know how some dishes just stick in your memory like that one catchy song you can’t shake? For me, Pork Marsala with Mushrooms is basically the culinary equivalent. I made it the first time because I misread a beef marsala recipe and had pork chops instead (whoops, but what a happy accident). Now, it’s the dish I whip up when I want something that looks fancy but is secretly pretty forgiving—even when my attention wanders to the dog stealing socks, or my phone buzzing with group texts. Honestly, it feels a bit like cheating when something turns out this good without a ton of fuss. Oh, and if you ever see me at the grocery store staring at mushroom varieties… I’m probably trying to remember which ones I used last time.

Why This Recipe Is a Keeper

I make this when I’m craving something “impressive” but low-stress. My family goes nuts for it—especially my oldest, who claims the sauce is “drinkable” (don’t try it though, it’s much better on pork!). It’s my go-to for company, since it looks posh but I can, you know, actually hang out instead of hovering over the stove. I used to always overcook the pork (that dry, shoe-leather feeling), but after about a dozen attempts, I finally figured out the timing. (Still, if you ever get distracted and the pork’s a bit tough: just tell everyone it’s “rustic.” Works for me!)

What You’ll Need (And Some Swaps I’ve Tried)

4 pork loin chops (about 1.5cm thick, or just whatever is on sale; I sometimes use pork tenderloin sliced into medallions if I’m feeling fancy)
Salt and pepper (my grandma swore by Lawry’s, but any will do)
Flour for dredging (a big spoonful—plain old AP, or gluten-free flour in a pinch)
3 tbsp olive oil (or a mix of butter and oil—my neighbor uses straight butter, but I think it’s a bit much)
2 cups mushrooms, sliced (button, cremini, or shiitake… Portobellos are good too, if you want a heartier vibe)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced (but I sometimes use that jarred stuff when in a hurry—don’t judge)
2/3 cup Marsala wine (or dry sherry; I tried white wine once, but honestly, it’s just not the same)
3/4 cup chicken broth (I’ve even used a stock cube + water quickly; nobody noticed)
2 tbsp heavy cream (optional, but it’s the secret to the sauciest sauce)
Fresh parsley or chives, chopped, for serving (if I remember!)

How I (Usually) Make It

Pat the pork dry and season on both sides with salt and pepper. Dredge lightly in flour—don’t overthink it, just a thin coat.
Heat 2 tbsp oil (or half butter, half oil) in a big skillet over medium-high. When it’s shimmering, add the pork. Sear till golden (about 3 mins per side). And yes, it always tries to stick—just give it a nudge. Transfer to a plate. (This is where I sneak a little taste if no one’s watching.)
Add the rest of the oil to the same pan. Chuck in the mushrooms and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, till they’re browned and their liquid mostly evaporates. Don’t worry if it gets a bit messy—scrape up those crispy bits, they’re gold.
Stir in the garlic. Only about 30 seconds—if you burn it, you’ll know (been there, trust me).
Pour in the Marsala, scraping up anything stuck. Let it bubble for a minute, then add the broth. (Don’t panic if it looks thin—it thickens up.)
Return the pork and any juices to the pan. Simmer gently, turning once or twice, till the pork is cooked through—maybe 4 minutes. You want just a blush of pink in the center; overcooked pork is a crime against dinnertime.
Stir in the cream if you’re feeling indulgent, and cook just 1 more minute. Taste and adjust salt and pepper—it’s your kitchen, after all.
Scatter over some parsley or chives. Serve it straight from the pan (or plate up if you’re feeling posh). That’s it!

Some Notes (a.k.a. What I’ve Learned the Hard Way)

Don’t use super sweet Marsala—dry is best, otherwise it gets kind of syrupy.
If you accidentally scorch the mushrooms, just scrape out the really black bits and keep going. No one will notice under all that sauce.
The sauce does thicken as it cools, so if it seems too runny, just wait a few minutes (or, worst case, mix in a pinch more flour).
I think it tastes even better the next day, but—full disclosure—it’s rarely lasted that long here.

How I’ve Switched It Up (and What I Won’t Try Again)

Tried adding a splash of balsamic vinegar once—nope, too tangy for me.
Used pork shoulder instead of loin for a bigger crowd, slicing it thin. More shreddy, but it worked.
Mushroom mix: shiitake + cremini is my current fave. But honestly, even plain white mushrooms are great.
Skipped the cream out of laziness—it’s fine, but cream makes it feel like you’re at a bistro. Just sayin’.

What You’ll Need (But Don’t Worry If You Don’t Have Everything)

A big skillet (nonstick or stainless both work—I use my ancient cast iron, but honestly, it’s not vital)
Tongs (or a fork, in a pinch, but watch those fingers!)
Cutting board and knife (obviously, but I once made do with a bread knife—wouldn’t recommend, but hey, it worked)

How to Store It (If You Have Any Left)

Technically, you should let it cool, then store in an airtight container in the fridge. Keeps up to 2 days. But, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you’re reheating, do it gently—nuking it on high makes the pork tough. And if you want to freeze it, it’s possible, though the mushrooms get a bit weird in texture (I don’t mind, but my partner does).

Serving Ideas (What I Usually Do)

We always have this with mashed potatoes (because what else soaks up all that sauce?), but it’s lovely over egg noodles or even some crusty bread. My cousin swears by polenta, but that’s a tad too much effort for me on weeknights. Oh, and a simple green salad on the side makes me feel a bit virtuous.

Lessons Learned (So You Don’t Have to Repeat My Mistakes)

I once tried rushing the browning step—don’t! That’s where all the flavor comes from, seriously.
Don’t walk away when the Marsala goes in; it’ll bubble up and, if you’re unlucky, make a sticky mess.
If your pork is a bit thick, just pound it out with a rolling pin (or wine bottle, which I, uh, might’ve used more than once).

Questions I’ve Actually Been Asked

Can I make this with chicken? Yup, totally. Just watch the cooking time—chicken dries out faster. I’ve got a post on that here if you wanna compare.
Do I have to use Marsala? Not exactly, but it’s the classic flavor. Dry sherry works, or even Madeira if you can get it. Red wine? Tried it, but it’s a whole different dish.
What if I don’t like mushrooms? Well, this might not be the recipe for you, but I suppose you could use sliced zucchini or just onions—though it won’t be Marsala with Mushrooms anymore (but who’s checking?).
Wine for drinking? I like to pour whatever’s left in the Marsala bottle, but a light Italian red works too. Or honestly, a cup of strong tea if you’re feeling wholesome. (Pro tip: do not use the Marsala labeled as “cooking wine”—get the real stuff, it’s worth it. Here’s a helpful guide: The Kitchn’s Marsala Wine Guide.)

And if you’re still reading, cheers to you—clearly a fellow food-enthusiast (or you got lost on your way to a mushroom risotto recipe, which happens). Either way, let me know how it turns out—unless it flops, in which case, let’s both pretend it never happened. Happy cooking!