Eat Happy: Whatever you’ve got in your fridge Chili

What I used:

2 lbs ground beef
1 onion
1 Green pepper (but if you have some red peppers or want to add hot peppers, go for it)
2 large cans tomato sauce
2 cans of kidney beans
3 cans black beans
1/2 can beer
Red Hot/ Tabasco
Spices: Cumin, Coriander, Chili Powder, Red Pepper flakes, Paprika, Salt & Pepper

What I did:

Step 1: Get the beef browning

That looks absolutely disgusting. Moving on.

Step 2: Chop an onion, try not to cry about it.

Firstly, usually I also add some hot peppers (jalapenos, chili, whatever) and maybe a red or yellow bell pepper if I have one available. But I didn’t. Which is what I love about chili. It’s totally laid back and adaptable.

Onion is absolutely necessary though, and I found half a green pepper lurking in the veggie drawer, so that went in too.

I never get the oil heating in the pan before I am done chopping, because without fail it gets to hot and I have splatter burns all over my hands/face/chest from dropping stuff into way-hotter-than-it-should-be oil. Also I burn the the food that way.

Instead, I get the big pot out afterthe chopping and heat some olive oil in it. Then cook my onion-pepper mixture until it is clear-ish, but is still firm. No mush in the chili. Like this.

Then, to keep it from overcooking I add one of my cans of tomato sauce before I turn my attention back to the beef.

Step 3: Back to the meat.

See, I no longer feel my gag reflex kick in while looking at it, so it must be getting done. Then, since there is no man currently around to make to this for me, I break it into chili-sized chunks.

Then drain… which I’d just like to take a time-out and thank my father for the genetic mutation that caused a ganglion cyst between the tendons in my right wrist, it makes things like trying to train meat out of a skillet or pick up a milk jug right handed super fun. I’d also like to thank my mother for once offering to hit it with a hammer to get rid of it, and then attempting to do so against my better judgement.(In her defense, she did put a stone coaster down on my wrist first, which she did manage to crack in half with the hammer. Awesome, mom, that could have been my wrist bones.)

Whoa. Way off track here. This is where the meat goes into the pot.

Step 5: Add some goodies, ignore your inner Italian. What we have right here is the beginnings of a nice meat sauce (lasagna anyone?)…

A little tomato paste, some basil and oregano along with a splash of red wine. Mmmm. That is why my inner Italian cringes deeply when beans are added to the pot.

Two cans of kidney and three cans of black beans for me… if you listen closely you can actually hear all of my italian genes screaming “Nooooooooo! Not the bologneeeeeeese!

Step 6: Spice it up. The spices need to be added quickly before the contessa stages a full fledged revolt.

I do 80% of the spices now, but I hold my hand back a little knowing I’ll add some later when it is cooked enough to taste. That amounts to about 1-1/2 Tablespoons of cumin, 1 Tablespoon of coriander, considerable shakes of salt, pepper, and chili power. And a teaspoon sized helping of the red mystery spice. I think it is paprika, but I forgot to lable that bottle when I added the spice and now I don’t remember. But it’s red and it looked like it would go.

Step 7: Beer is the answer….
… I don’t remember the question. All I know is the chili needs some. Half a can, which convieniently leaves the other half a can for drinking!

Except of course, today is not one of my 3 designated drinking days this week. That was my New Years Resolution. Only consuming alcohol 3 times a week, even if it is justa glass of wine with dinner or half a can of beer while making chili. It was really hard to put that can back in the fridge for MysteryMan without taking a sip, but I am the pinacle of restraint.

I also take this moment to spash in some Tabaso and Red Hot. But not too much since I won’t be taste-testing for a while.

Step 8: Boil then simmer.
First I like to get it up to a good strong boil. Usually I know its there when the top looks extra liquidy (which is good, because I plan to let this baby reduce for hours).

And then the fancy simmer-pot-guard-thingy which allows it to thicken but not to splatter all over the kitchen.

Annnnnnd… we’re done. At least for the next 2-3 hours. I will stir it every half-hour or so when I am inexplicably drawn to the kitchen because of the smell of godness wafting from my stove. But other than that (and to add a little more beer if it starts getting too thick…. is that even possible?) l leave well, enough alone.

Step 9: Taste-testing.

Hey, not so soupy… but it needs a little testing.

Yeah right, like I can stop at just one cracker.

The is the adjust-the-seasonings portion of my chili-making extravaganza (that means add more tabasco). And then…

Step 10: Smother in cheese. Add crackers. Get fat.

I make enough to feed 10 and then freeze half, which always comes in handy, whether its to top off a tray smeared with cream cheese and top with cheddar (chip dip anyone) or just because I don’t feel like cooking in 3 months.

MysteryMan and I will eat the rest for breafast lunch and dinner for the next three days until we can no longer stomach the thought of anything related to the tomato-bean-beef family. Tortilla chips will eventually make us gag on sight. Mmmmm. [Picture me rubbing my hands together] Lets get started!