Alright, confession—this Apple Cider Braised Pork Shoulder has become my low-key entertaining ace (also, it smells ridiculous while cooking)

You know that one recipe you bust out when you want to sound a bit fancy but really just want a nap? This is mine. I made it for the first time after a chilly weekend apple picking outside of town—my shoes were muddy, and I lost a glove (never did find it, but that’s another story) and came home craving something warming and, well, forgiving. Pork shoulder is a saint for home cooks. And with apple cider? C’mon, it’s autumn in a pot. Oh, and my brother once called dibs on leftovers before we even sat down, so… I’d say it’s a crowd-pleaser.

Why You’ll Love This (Or, Reason #47 I Keep Making It)

I make this when I want dinner to sort of cook itself, plus it stretches into leftovers that only get better. My family goes a bit nuts for the gravy—my son claims it’s a food group—and, weirdly enough, it never comes out exactly the same twice (might be because I’m always running out of something, but shhh). Oh, and cleanup is basically one pot. I still grumble about peeling apples, honestly, but it’s worth it.

What You’ll Need (And What I Use When I’m Out of Something)

1 boneless pork shoulder, about 4 lbs (I’ve used bone-in too; just add a bit more cooking time)
2 cups apple cider – The cloudy kind from a farmstand is best, but any will do. Once tried sparkling cider in a pinch and, eh, a bit sweet but not bad.
2 large onions, sliced (I swap in a couple of leeks if they look limp in my fridge)
4 garlic cloves, smashed – Or, garlic paste if I’ve gotten lazy
2 apples, sliced (My gran swore by Granny Smiths, but use whatever’s rolling around)
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard – I sometimes go grainy, because why not?
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar (If you’re out, a small splash of white wine works weirdly well)
2-3 sprigs fresh thyme—Dried works, but go lighter or you’ll taste a pine forest
1 bay leaf
Salt and pepper—not kidding, be generous
Vegetable oil for searing
Optional: a spoonful of brown sugar (I only bother if my apples are super tart)

How I Actually Cook This (Let’s Be Honest)

Set your oven to 325°F (160°C). I forget and preheat late half the time. No big deal.
Pat the pork dry and season with way more salt and pepper than seems normal. Heat oil in your biggest Dutch oven over medium-high, then sear pork all over. Don’t panic if it sticks a bit; that’s flavor.
Remove the pork (awkward, probably need tongs), toss in the onions, and stir. Let them go til golden and soft. Add garlic for a minute. It’ll smell heavenly.
Pour in cider to deglaze—scrape up the tasty bits. Add apples, vinegar, mustard, thyme, bay leaf, and sugar if you’re using it. Get everything friendly in the pot.
Bring to a simmer, nestle the pork back in (my pot’s always a little crowded – that’s okay). Lid on, shove it in the oven.
Braise 2.5 to 3 hours, turning pork halfway. (This is the part where I forget, but somehow it works out anyway.)
Pork’s ready when it basically wants to fall apart if you poke it. Pull out the bay leaf and thyme stalks (confession: sometimes I forget and they end up on someone’s plate).
Rest pork on a platter, crank pot over medium to bubble sauce down a bit. Taste. More salt? Maybe dash more mustard? Now’s the time.
Slice or just pull pork into chunks. Douse with sauce and serve. This is where I have to swat away my husband with a wooden spoon.

A Few Notes I Wish I’d Known (and One I Learned the Hard Way)

If your cider is too sweet, that brown sugar is totally optional; once made it with both and it was overkill.
Letting the pork rest for 10 min really does make it juicier – I tried skipping and paid with dry bits.
This somehow tastes even better the next day (if you miraculously have leftovers).
If you spill sauce on your shirt, dab it with cold water—don’t rub! That’s just life wisdom, not a cooking tip.

If You Fancy Changing Things Up (or Downright Messing with It)

Swapped in pears instead of apples once; not bad, but not the same. (My daughter said, “where’s the apple part?”)
Once slow-cooked it overnight—honestly, got a bit mushy.
Added a splash of bourbon once. Actually, that was lovely, but might’ve just been the kind of day I was having.

Do You Need Fancy Equipment? (Spoiler: Not Really)

I use a Dutch oven, but if you’re all out of those (or, you know, never got one as a wedding gift), a deep oven-safe heavy pot with a tight lid works. Or, in a pinch, cover a roasting pan with a double layer of foil. Just don’t peek too much—steam’s your friend here. Found that out when I used a wonky old casserole dish and it somehow worked anyway.

How Long Does It Last? (Not Long Round Here, Honestly)

Technically, you could keep leftovers in the fridge for 3-4 days, tightly covered—but I’ve yet to see that happen in my kitchen. Freeze in portions for up to 2 months. (That said, reheated pork is my go-to lunch with rice.)

How Should I Serve This?

I pile it over buttery mashed potatoes, or buttery anything really. My mum loves it with crusty bread to mop up sauce. I’ve even shredded leftovers for tacos (not traditional, but who’s checking?). And for Sunday dinner, there’s gotta be roasted carrots on the side – non-negotiable in our house. If you want to go all out, Smitten Kitchen’s ultimate mashed potatoes are ridiculous.

Some Pro Tips I Learned The Hard Way

Don’t rush the sear—it’s not worth it. I once did and the flavor was flat, lesson learned.
If the sauce’s too runny, simmer it without the lid while the pork rests, not before—so you don’t lose too much liquid.
Double check your oven temp. My ancient oven runs cool and led to three-and-a-half-hour pork one time. Still edible, just, well… dry on the ends.