Chili Cookoff Chaos Theory
Chili Cookoff Chaos Theory
The ACBN Friday Newsletter isn't here to make friends, it's here to make chili.
Fall finally fully arrived this week. The leaves are changing color, there’s been a bracing crisp in the air each morning, and I’ve worn quarter-zips every day this week. I am thriving.
Something looms amidst all the pumpkin-spiced revelry, though. In the back of my mind, I know that it’s coming—waiting to turn my placid Spooky Season into an autumnal battlefield.
[Outlook email notification pops up]
SUBJ: Office Chili Cookoff!
[my eyes go completely black]
I must break them.
Friends, it is once again Friday at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.
Heck, it’s Friday the Thirteenth, even—and in the spookiest month of the year!
I’m not feeling unlucky, though.
Sure, I might not have won the Powerball this week (it turns out you have to buy a ticket first? seems rigged, imo), but I’m gearing up for certain victory over my colleagues, and I’ll lay the path to victory out for you, too.
Today, I’ve got:
A high-risk, high-reward chili strategy!
An autumnal spin on an essential cocktail!
Books, music, pets, and much more!
It’s Friday. Come with me if you want to live más.
7) No gods, no masters, but maybe some beans
People love to argue about food on the internet. Is a hot dog a sandwich?1 What kind of pizza is best, New York or Chicago?2 What’s better, cake or pie?3
People get really upset about chili, though.
There’s few better ways to work someone up on the internet than to express an opinion on chili, because it turns out that lots of people have very strongly-held opinions on what you can and cannot do when making chili.
I want to be very clear about my chili ethos, though:
I can do whatever the hell I want, and you can’t stop me.
As a matter of fact, I have! Quite often, in fact!
Each year of the ACBN’s existence, I’ve rolled out a new and different chili recipe right around this time of year. They’ve each taken a different approach, because the truth of the matter is that chili can go a thousand different ways. That’s why we have chili cookoffs—we’ve all got our own individual interpretations—and that’s why people love it so much.
First, let’s look at some past efforts:
Last year, I debuted a big, bold and beefy Smashburger Chili, which introduced the beef later in the equation so as to maximize those magnificent Maillard-reaction crispy bits.
Two years ago, I went in the completely opposite direction, making my Thicc Vegan Chili, a rich, hearty recipe that achieved stick-to-your-ribs goodness without any meat at all—and without the shortcut of fake-meat substitutes.
Three years ago, I went maximally meaty again, this time with a beef, Italian sausage and chorizo version that won high praise from everyone who tried it—and I did it in the midst of soliticing dozens of other chili recipes from Readers Like You:
(My recipe is the pinned comment on that post.)
The point is, there’s a lot of ways you can go.
This year, with chili season fast approaching, I debated what new angle I could take, and I thought about the unique conundrum that a chili cookoff presents.
You see, there’s no accounting for taste.
You could make the highest-and-best version of chili you can imagine—the most time, the most care, the highest-quality ingredients—and you could lose to someone who put a tube of ground beef and two cans of chili beans into a crock pot.
(I’m not complaining about the latter, mind you. I’m just still a little sore about something that happened in 2015.)
At the same time, you could make the most traditional-and-homespun chili imaginable, and get crowded out by a dozen other similar entries that split the normie vote.
My theory? You’ve got to go a bit mad to win.
That’s why, today, I’m sharing a chili that breaks a few rules.
It is chili, mind you—it checks all the boxes of a textbook definition of chili—but it’s also heretical in many ways, and is sure to make a few people mad.
You know what else?
It might just be the best dang chili I’ve ever made.
Heretic’s Chili
(serves 6)