Chili/chilly night

Although I live in Seattle, I am a Texan. I was born there, and lived three quarters two thirds of my life there. And, though I’ve lived here almost a decade, I just don’t feel like I’m a Washingtonian. (I do occasionally feel like a Seattleite. Go figure.) However, I’m not a very good Texan. Not only have I chosen to live far away from the Lone Star State, but I make chili like a Yankee.

I’ve eaten and enjoyed plenty of chili made with only beef (chopped by hand, not ground), onion and garlic, chile peppers, spices and enough liquid (beer, coffee or water) to keep things from burning; I’ve even cooked such chili myself. However (and here’s where it gets embarrassing), I like a little tomato in my chili. Beans, too, though I am partial to black beans, rather than the pintos or kidney beans that are more commonly found in chili. And this may be the worst transgression: I’ve been known to use ground beef, and even add some pork if that’s what I have in the freezer.

All that said, I am serious about the chiles in my chili. I’m not particularly interested in burn (I like some fire on the tongue, my sweetheart less so); I’m looking for a strong, rich chile pepper flavor. For this local pot of chili I used relatively low-Scoville ancho and anaheim peppers, grinding the dried peppers (less most of their seeds) into a powder before combining with the other seasonings. Note that the heat of each variety of chile pepper can vary substantially among peppers; I recommend testing the powder on the tip of your tongue before you go tossing several tablespoons of the stuff into your pot.

Happily, I can acquire almost all of the ingredients for chili (Texas or Yankee style) from within 150 miles, give or take a handful, of our home. The meat, onions and garlic come from within 75 miles of here. The beans, chiles and tomatoes were grown on farms right around the 150 mile radius; while all are available from farmers closer to home, I don’t think you can do much better for flavor than Billy’s orange banana tomatoes (which I both canned and roasted, then froze, this summer), Alvarez’s dried beans (I adore their garbanzos) and Tonnamaker’s or Alvarez’s chile peppers, which they sell fresh in the summer, and dried into the fall. I thought about limiting my chili to locally-available ingredients, but to my mouth, chili really wouldn’t be chili without cumin. Once I opened the door to cumin, the cinnamon and cocoa powder sneaked in behind. The oregano, which is also necessary, would’ve been local had my plant made it through our recent winter weather unpleasantness.

Although this isn’t real Texas chili, it is delicious and filling, and is one of our favorite dinners on chilly winter nights, of which there have already been more than usual this year. I top mine with grated cheese and chopped onion; Paul likes to stir a little quark into his. And — my final admission — we both like it over rice, baked potatoes or pasta.

THREE STEPS OVER THE LINE CHILI
(that’s one step for each of my transgressions against Texas chili tradition)

1 pound ground beef
1 pound ground pork
1 teaspoon lard
1 large yellow onion, chopped
3 – 5 tablespoons ancho chile powder
1 – 2 tablespoons anaheim chile powder
pinch – 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 – 2 tablespoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon dried oregano, powdered
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 pint tomato puree (home-canned from orange banana tomatoes)
3 cups cooked black beans
pinch of cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cocoa powder

Beecher’s Marco Polo cheese (or sharp cheddar or Monterey jack), grated
Finely chopped onion (or green onions)
Quark (or sour cream)

In a large dutch oven, melt lard over medium low heat. Add onion to pan, and sweat until translucent. Add the minced garlic; cook for another minute. Add the ground beef and pork, and break up meat as it browns. Cook, stirring occasionally, until meat almost cooked through. Add the ancho and anaheim chile powders, cumin, oregano and, if you want some heat, cayenne. Stir to coat meat and onions with spices, then to allow spices to cook for about a minute, stirring to prevent burning. (If you use the smaller amounts of chiles and spices, your chili should be spicy, but not extraordinarily hot. I usually start with those amounts, adding more spices as the chili cooks until I’m satisfied with the depth of flavor and the heat.)

Add the tomato puree and the black beans. If the mixture seems a bit dry, and a little water. Slowly simmer the chili for 30 minutes. Taste, and add additional chiles or cumin to taste. Add the cinnamon and cocoa powder. Simmer for a final half hour, stirring regularly.

Serve topped with grated cheese, finely chopped raw onion and/or quark (or sour cream).

Here’s where we got the chili fixins:

Local farmers markets:

• Anselmo’s Organics, Snohomish, WA (23 miles): garlic
• Sidhu Farms, Puyallup, WA (31 miles): onions
• Skagit River Ranch, Sedro-Wooley, WA (75 miles): ground beef, ground pork, lard
• Tonnemaker Hill Farm, Royal City, WA (138 miles): dried chile peppers
• Alvarez Organic Farm, Mabton, WA (145 miles): dried black turtle beans
• Billy’s Organic Produce, Tonasket, WA (153 miles): orange banana tomatoes

From locally-owned stores within 1/2 mile of our house:

• Beecher’s Cheese, Seattle, WA (2 miles): Marco Polo cheese (cheddar with Madagascar — 10,400 miles! — peppercorns)
• Appel Farms, Ferndale, WA (84 miles): quark
• Far away: cumin, cayenne, cinnamon, oregano, cocoa powder