When the weatherman started talking about snow in Jackson, my wife got busy gathering up blankets and throws. Nine-year-old Zak sat by the window keeping a keen eye on the night sky, straining not to blink and miss catching a glimpse of the first flakes, back-lit by the streetlight. Our teenage boys furiously worked the keyboards on their iPhones making plans with girls to drink coco and flirt (as if they need an excuse like snow for flirting).

But my mind immediately went to food—BIG food—steaming-in-one-giant-pot food; the stuff that warms you up from the heart out and sustains you through the cold night; food you eat in a big-ole bowl with a big-ole spoon in front of the TV or the fireplace. Several old standards meet these requirements, but for my money, one stands head-and-shoulders above the rest: chili.

For the longest time, I put chili in a category of foods that are the stuff of bachelor pads and empty bragging. I can't count the number of guys who tell me, "I don't really cook, but I make a great ____." (Insert either chili or spaghetti sauce).

My attitude toward chili changed on a trip several years ago to Austin, Texas. A friend of mine from college was getting married and asked me to be a groomsman. When I was booking the trip west, I saw that Southwest Airlines was running a "friends fly free" promotion. Naturally, I called my frequent traveling pal, Dan Blumenthal, to see if he wanted to tag along to a wedding where he would know absolutely no one in attendance and, therefore, have a shot at impressing a bridesmaid. Not surprisingly, Dan was up for it, so off we went.

Thirty minutes after we stepped foot onto Texas soil, we stopped at a Texaco station to fill up the rental car. Intoxicating waves of beefy-peppery aromas drew Dan to a little lunch counter run by a local family. While I was paying for the gas, Dan called me over to where he was inspecting the small menu. "I love Texas-style chili. Let's eat chili everywhere we go this weekend," he said with a goofy ecstatic grin on his face.

Dan's culinary skills allowed him to scan the menu and immediately recognize the house specialty.

"Two Frito pies with cheese, please." He ordered with the confidence of a local.

What they gave us was a red-checkered, rectangular paper boat filled with heaven. The crunch from the Fritos, the sharpness of the shredded cheddar, the savory taste of the meat, the kick of red pepper and the hot acidity of the chopped red onions all played like finely tuned instruments in a symphony of yum. And this was just convenience-store food.

Every chance we had to eat chili on that trip, we took it. We had chili in oversized china bowls, garnished with fresh chives, cilantro and artistic dollops of sour cream at a fancy restaurant, and in a utilitarian cafeteria-green plastic bowl at a neighborhood diner. I even found a bowl of leftover chili in my friend's fridge and used it as a topping on my midnight-scavenger hotdog.

I noticed a central theme in all of the chilies: lots of meat, no beans, a spicy kick, a hint of bitterness and very little liquid. I couldn't wait to get home and work on my version of what the Texans call "A Bowl of Red." And although my friend's marriage didn't last long, my love for chili and my recipe for this soul-warming dish have stood the test of time.

Tex-A-Ssippi Red Chili (Serves 6)
2 pounds chuck (cubed)
3 pounds ground beef (round, sirloin or chuck)
8 cloves garlic
2 large yellow onions
1 large red onion
1 bunch green onions
1 jalapeÑo pepper
3 tablespoons oregano
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper (add gradually to suit your taste)
3 tablespoons ground cumin
3 tablespoons paprika
3 dried ancho chili peppers (stems and seeds removed)
2 tablespoons whole coriander
1 teaspoon cinnamon powder
6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 bottle dark beer
1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
Cilantro for garnish
Limes for garnish
1 cup sour cream
2 cups queso fresco (or shredded jack cheese)

To prepare the ingredients, coarsely chop the red onions, yellow onions and garlic. Cut the chuck into ½ inch cubes.

Remove the seeds and white membrane from jalapeÑo pepper and finely chop the remaining flesh. Finely chop the green onions and the ancho chili peppers. Slice the limes into wedges.

Place a stockpot over medium heat until it is very hot (Three minutes will do the trick) add the cubed beef and quickly brown on all sides. Add olive oil, garlic, red onions, yellow onions and jalapeÑo pepper, and cook until onions are translucent. Add ground beef and brown completely. Add all herbs and dry ingredients, including ancho chilies. Add chocolate and stir until it is well mixed with the beef. Add half the bottle of beer and tomatoes. Bring all to a simmer and cook until the liquid is reduced by half.

Ladle chili into a large bowl and top with a dollop of sour cream. Sprinkle with cheese and green onions and garnish with cilantro and lime wedges.

To morph this bowl of goodness into Frito pie, cover the bottom of a bowl with corn chips, spoon on a heavy layer of chili, top with melted cheese, and microwave for about 30 seconds or until the cheese melts.

Previous Comments

ID

155358

Comment

Loved this piece: I could smell the spice, and (despite having lunch in front of me) was tempted to chew on the paper. I now require frito pie. If those bachelors tweaked their recipe slightly to mimic Cincinnati style chili, they could say they made BOTH chili and spaghetti sauce. ;-)

Author

Deirdra Harris Glover

Date

2010-01-22T15:52:08-06:00

ID

155365

Comment

Thanks Deirdra! Try the recipe and let me know what you think. Cincinnati style chili???? Not to diss the city of the Big Red Machine...but really! How can they call that stuff chili?

Author

Tom Ramsey

Date

2010-01-22T21:28:45-06:00

ID

155369

Comment

To all of my JFP friends...I auditioned today for the new Gordon Ramsey show on Fox called MasterChef. I passed the first round of the audition and got a callback for the on-camera interview tomorrow. Cross your fingers and wish me luck! Bon Appetit! ~Tom Ramsey

Author

Tom Ramsey

Date

2010-01-23T12:09:06-06:00

ID

155370

Comment

I've tried Cincinnati style meat soup. It's not chili. Take out the 3 pounds of cinnamon or whatever it is they defile it with and you'd get it up to edible. :)

Author

Ironghost

Date

2010-01-23T12:45:15-06:00

ID

155371

Comment

The recipe sounded good till I read chocolate. Chocolate in chili?

Author

BubbaT

Date

2010-01-23T13:51:21-06:00

ID

155372

Comment

BubbaT - semi-sweet chocolate is similar to using mole, which works great with beef. Most of the best chili recipes have some type of sweet element to balance the heat from the peppers. By using only 6 oz of a semi-sweet chocolate, you accomplish this without having a sweet note up front. Try it and let me know what you think. You could even cook the dish without the chocolate and then add a bit of it to a small bowl at the end and see which one you like better. Bon Appetit! ~Tom

Author

Tom Ramsey

Date

2010-01-23T14:45:06-06:00

ID

155385

Comment

Mole? Does that taste anything like gopher? *snickers* Good Luck with the audition!! Gordon Ramsey is a pistol and I dig watching his shows just to watch him fly off the handle. It would be great to see him flying off on a local guy.

Author

WMartin

Date

2010-01-25T07:47:06-06:00

ID

156035

Comment

The continuation of this recipe is now available on my blog (www.tomramsey.com). You can see the transformation of chili into Frito Pie! Bon Appetit!~Tom

Author

Tom Ramsey

Date

2010-02-15T18:56:12-06:00