A Bowl of Red

NYC has a pretty impressive array of food events going on every week, most of which draw an equally impressive crowd of foodie nerds willing to wait in long lines for artisanal, homemade or sustainable this-and-that. A couple of weeks ago there was the Dumpling Festival, but this week was the long-anticipated Brooklyn Underground Chili Extravaganza. With rules like “chili comes in a pot, pot does not come in the chili,” and “vegetarian chili competes on an even field with carnivore chili,” it was understandably popular. Unfortunately, it was so popular that I didn’t even come close to trying any of the ten chili entries. Since I’m not so much into defeat, I ended up making my own damn chili the next day.

even the judges are waiting impatiently for their chili

even the judges don't have any chili

Though stews comprised of meat, beans, chiles and herbs were popular in Aztec, Incan and Mayan cultures, chili as we know it today has evolved to be a distinctly American dish. Indeed, Mexico’s Diccionario de Mejicanismos, published in 1959, describes chili con carne as “detestable food passing itself off as Mexican, sold in the U.S. from Texas to New York.” First popularized by chuck wagon cooks accompanying cowboys, trail hands and adventurers in the mid-1800’s, chili was unglamorous trail food meant for long cattle drives around the Southwest or long journeys to California gold fields. Cooks would plant chilies, onions and herbs along trails, hidden in mesquite patches to protect them from foraging cattle. When wagons headed back on the same trail later, the ingredients would be ready for harvest – once added to dried beef and boiled in pots, voila! As settlements along the trail began mimicking the hearty stew prepared by the visiting chuck wagon cooks, chili grew in popularity. Outlaws like Jesse James and Billy the Kid were rumored to be huge fans – according to local legend, Jesse James vowed never to rob the bank in Fort Worth, Texas because “anyplace that has a chili joint like this just oughta’ be treated better.”

A few detractors claim that the Texas prison system originally invented chili, mincing cheap cuts of beef and combining it with gruel and chilies for an edible, cheap meal, while others claim that the “Chili Queens” of San Antonio sold the first bowls of chili from their street carts. In any case, Texas is the undisputed birthplace of chili and today, it’s one of their biggest legacies – pretty much any diner across the U.S. has chili on the menu. However, the majority of contemporary chili recipes feature beans and a few even forgo meat altogether in favor of tofu or potatoes – a slap in the face to Texan traditionalists who believe that meat is the one diva in a proper chili. In another blow to Texans everywhere, Texas isn’t even the only chili mecca in the U.S.; Cincinnati has emerged with a famous version that incorporates cinnamon, cloves and chocolate into a thinner stew more akin to spaghetti sauce, and in 1993, the Illinois State Legislature passed a resolution deeming Springfield, Illinois as the “Chilli [sic] Capital of the Civilized World.”

To satisfy my chili cravings, I turned to the Marlboro Chili Roundup, a cookbook I received in the mail years ago as part of a cigarette promotion. A free, glossy cookbook may not seem like the best source for chili know-how, but it is actually a compilation of reader (smoker?) recipes. I figured, if someone is gonna know chili, it’s gonna be the Marlboro Man. I chose the Little Havana chili, which seemed to incorporate the best of Cincinnati influences with a meat-to-beans ratio that I modified to be acceptable to most Texans. I’m not sure what Jesse James would say to my fusion chili, but it was definitely the spicy celebration of meat that I was looking for.

Little Havana Chili

(by Mike Richards, Tinley Park, IL via The Marlboro Chili Roundup)

1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 1/2 pounds ground pork
2 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 cup white onions, minced
2 tablespoons garlic, minced fine
3/4 cup ground chili powder
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons ground cumin
3 1/2 tablespoons cocoa powder
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon allspice
1 teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 cups brewed coffee
2 cups beef broth, canned
3 cups crushed tomato, canned
1 1/4 quarts tomato juice
3 cups cooked black beans
4 cups Havarti cheese, grated

Heat half the oil in a heavy stockpot and add ground pork and beef, cook until done, drain grease through colander and reserve meat. Return stockpot back to range and heat remaining oil again over moderate heat, add onions and garlic and cook until soft. Add all the ground spices and cook for approximately 5 minutes, stirring frequently, to bring out their flavor. Add reserved cooked ground meat, vinegar, coffee, beef broth, crushed tomato and tomato juice and simmer over low heat for approximately 45 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.