Month: February 2005

A few weeks ago I mentioned a variation of chili that I had concocted — I called it choco-chili. I said I would post the recipe, and I will, tomorrow or perhaps the day after. First, however, I need to say a thing or two about chili.

For most of us, chili is essentially a stew composed of ground beef and beans in a spicy tomato sauce. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, I’m salivating just thinking about it.

Some people, however, are very picky about what exactly is chili. Among the hardcore chili fanatics there are essentially two schools of thought. The first is the traditional school, in which the history of chili is carefully considered, and the quest is to find the tastiest recipe that respects the origins of the dish. The only problem with this approach is that there is little consensus on what exactly that origin is.

Then there is the evolutionary school, in which any concoction that contains tomatoes, and/or meat, and/or beans, and/or chilies, can be called chili. Followers of this school produce some very interesting dishes, adding unusual and exotic spices and vegetables. The relationship to what we normally think of as chili can be far-fetched — it could even be a bowl of fruit with some ground peppers on it. I’m not against this approach by any means, but my inclination is towards the traditional school

Based on my research, I am reasonably comfortable with the following interpretation of the history of chili:

Back in the pioneering days of the old south and the old west, when wagon trains traversed the plains and deserts, folks needed a reliable source of travelling food that didn’t easily spoil. Drying and salting was one option, but it could be time-consuming and was more of a coastal tradition. So they would stew a big batch of chopped beef with a lot of chili peppers in a big iron pot. Each night they would re-heat the pot, and eat their fill. The acidity of the peppers, the addition of a lot of salt, and the fact it was re-heated every day, kept it reasonably free of spoilage.

As the journey progressed and the pot got lower, they would add things to stretch it out, such as tomatoes and beans. In a sense it was a bit like an old Irish stew, in which you dig out a few scoops for dinner each night and toss in a few vegetables or bones to make up the difference — in effect, creating a perpetual stew.

If you believe this version (and I’m not absolutely convinced — although I like it), you will note that in the early days of the journey, the chili consisted of nothing more than beef and chilies (and perhaps onions). This is the purist’s chili.

I’ve never made purist’s chili. I’ve come close a few times, but then I end up adding something that is reminiscent of days farther into the journey. But still — someday I will try it. Note that purist’s chili does not use ground beef — it uses shaved or chopped beef.

When I made the first batch of choco-chili back in January, I began the session with the idea of perhaps making a purist’s chili. I had a big slab of beef and a pile of chilies (specifically, jalapeno peppers — not the most interesting chilies, but readily available year-round). After I cut up the beef and chopped the chilies, however, I thought that it might be better if I borrowed from the evolutionary school when it came to the liquid in which the chili would stew. Instead of water, I used beer. (In fact, I’ve been using beer in chili for years.) And of course, I could not deny the sublime alchemy of beef and onions.

So I started with beef, chilies, onions, and beer. After an hour or so of simmering, it just didn’t seem right. Perhaps it was my choice of the relatively uninteresting jalapenos peppers. So I started adding other things. I even added chili powder — a useful ingredient for quickie chilies, but decidedly outside of the traditional repertoire. Finally, taking a cue from Mexican mole recipes (and Martine’s vegetarian chili recipe) I added a very small amount of dark chocolate.

What started off as a very old-school chili ended up somewhat evolved. (Beer and chocolate?) But that’s the beauty of chili — it can be whatever you want it to be. For me, the most important thing is to keep one eye on history and the other eye on the quality of the ingredients.

Hopefully, this sets the stage for the upcoming recipe for choco-chili. Be aware that fans of very tomatoey chili may not like it. It is, after all, brown, not red.

(Update: here’s the recipe.)