Chili and all the fixins...

So it's Friday night and, for the first time since about the end of May, we don't have anything going this weekend.  Michael has a birthday party tomorrow; one of those great buddies who is as welcome at our home as a second son is turning 10.  Really a terrific kid - very happy for him and glad Michael is cultivating a solid friendship there.

And Kristin is taking this term off from ballet, scouts has no obligations and the Spartans' football and men's basketball teams don't play - so I am thinking I'll have some time on my hands.  Jeanine will likely have some running around to do and there are a million things around the house I can do...but what I really want to do is make a huge pot of chili.

It has been a staple in my home since I was a kid.  As the kitchen-rat of two working parents who frequently helped out in getting dinners ready, it is a dish I learned very early on how to cook.  Over the many years the recipe has changed significantly but, end product not withstanding, cooking up a big pot of "the red" is always a fine way to get out of almost any list of chores.

For posterity's sake, I thought I might record that secret, hahahahaha, recipe here.

I start with equal portions of hamburger, the leaner the better because by the end of it we'll want it to crumble into the smallest parts possible, and hot breakfast sausage and enough olive oil to just coat the bottom of a large stainless steel pot.  I spray down the pot first with non-stick cooking spray and then throw in the oil and meat.

While it is cooking, I dice three large onions and three peppers - sometimes all green and sometimes one each of green, red and yellow - whatever is the better value when I am shopping.  Toss in the onions and peppers while the meat is cooking and crumble it all up with whatever you got.  I use a pampered chef thing-a-ma-bob Jeanine bought me for my birthday a couple of years ago.  Really cool device specifically for crumbling meat.

That's pretty much the hardest part, slicing and dicing all the onions and peppers - but if you do it right, if you can get the pieces whittled down to as small as you possibly can, that is the best for chili.  Personally I hate it unless i have some problem I am trying to untangle.  Then, when I have some thorny problem at work, or am writing a brief in my mind, I get lost in the preparation stage and just try to do some serious cypherin'.  Not the case this weekend. Nothing on the horizon for a couple of weeks so tomorrow I will be chopping and thinking exactly how much I hate chopping.

Next I mix in one large can of Brooks' Chili Hot beans, and three small cans of kidney beans (drained).  I add to that three cans of whatever zesty kind of stewed or diced tomatoes I can find at Meijer - for tomorrow's chili I think I bought diced with jalapeno.  Should be pretty good.

Between the liquid in all of the peppers and onions, and the juice from all the canned goods, that's all the liquid I put into it.  When I was at home and making this for my mom and dad, I used to use a big can of V-8 but have since found that the chili is much much better with the stewed/diced tomatoes as the primary source of liquid for the base of the chili.

Now, I'll lift the veil on the secret ingredient.  I would love to reveal that I have some heretofore unknown combination of cumin, chili powder, Sea salt and Worcestershire black pepper (yes, they actually make such a thing, it is fantastic), but Carroll Shelby (yeah, him, the car guy) has already  worked all that calculus out.  So I actually buy, in the spice aisle, a thing called "Carroll Shelby's six gun chili fixins."

Lots of chili powder, cumin, onion powder, and God only knows whatever else, and also just the right proportion of crushed red pepper and salt to make it zing. Add to that the packet of Masa flour in the kit for those of you who prefer thicker chili, and you have a first rate meal.  I have tried the flour and do not prefer it, but give it a try for yourself and let me know what you think.

The finishing touch is one inspired by our good friend, and Kristin's terrific God-Mother.  She and her husband are the kinds of friends that, when we visit them we always pack the kids' pajamas.  The type of friends who your kids call Aunt and Uncle almost as if it was a wish rather than a courtesy.

So we had chili at their home once and they put brown sugar in it.  Skeptical as I was, I admit that I ate it for three reasons:  1) Kristin's God mother is not only a fearless cook; she is a great cook and anything we've ever had at her house is really really good, 2) it would have been rude to say "Uh...you put what into the chili? No, just no", and 3) it was dinner time, I was hungry, and someone else was cooking.  So you see I had three compelling reasons to chow down but I now confess, I had grave, grave doubts about that brown sugar.

Chili, the way I was raised, was meant to peel the paint, hector the senses, and harass the digestive system.  Eating good chili was like pulling off a good dare - there's supposed to be something of a thrill in just making it to the bottom of that bowl.

So I accepted the brown sugar chili (which I suspect but cannot confirm probably had turkey or chicken or something else healthy (insert air quotes here) in it) and politely ate it suspecting that brown sugar would be to chili what Tears for Fears was to music.  Just something I had to endure because of the women in my life. Unlike, however, that chinless, spineless, "dullard's opus" brand of music (Tears for Fears), I was amazed to discover the sweet with the hot in a pot of chili was a fantastic development.

So in finishing off the mix now bubbling at a rolling boil in any chili pot in my kitchen, it is always with the warmest memories of our good friends and their hospitality that I mix in 3/4 of a cup of brown sugar.  It's just so good that way.

After the boil, the whole thing simmers on low for a couple of hours and then you serve it with saltines and a cold beverage.  Some people embellish their chili with sour cream or cheddar cheese, which I suppose is fine for them.  Some people I know also finish off their mixed drinks with a paper umbrella, cuff their jeans and wear boatshoes without socks, so who am I to judge if they want to putt from the rough?

But for me, it's saltines and, if you need something to take the edge off the heat, then bake some bread and serve it with butter - that - and any generous amount of cold beverage and good friends are all you'll really need.

So around dinner time tomorrow I figure on throwing a big pot of chili on the table for whoever is here. Wherever you are, whoever you are with, I hope you find yourself breaking bread with good friends and family in the calm of what is perhaps this last slow Saturday before the usual end of the year mayhem.

Thanks for stopping by my blog today!  I love that you came by.

Dennis
smallowndad@hotmail.com