Not A Fan

My Beloved does not like chili; every time I make it, he says so. And every time I make it, he cleans his plate and threatens to scrape the design off the bottom trying to get every last bean and dash of sauce. His rejoinder is always the same, "I don't like chili, but I love your chili!" He may not make much sense, but he's adorable.

Before Christmas and before TSA (The Sciatica Attack), we had a lovely family meal at Cousin Jan's house at which she served slowly oven-roasted pork. OMG, I really can't describe how good it was! And, being the generous hostess that she is, all the guests got to go home with a sizable bag of pork and spud leftovers.

I decided to make chili with mine, combining that killer roast pork with black and navy beans for a hearty winter meal. My chili is anything but authentic, but if I do say so myself, it's really, really good. 

I sautéed a chopped onion and a couple of cloves of minced garlic in a little oil, then added the two cans of beans with their liquid, the chopped leftover roast (an amount roughly equal to the beans), a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, and two kinds of chili powder, ancho and regular to taste. I simmered it all together for about an hour, then slid it off the heat and covered it. (Some people add green pepper to chili; I call that an abomination).

Chili is always better the next day - and I truly believe that's the secret to good chili. One must exercise patience and restraint, ignoring the Siren scents coming out of the pot and resolutely covering it and waiting for the next day.

After it has cooled and been reheated, just ladle it into bowls and stand back out of the way of the stampede to the table. Even someone who thinks they are not a fan of chili will admit that they love this chili!