It all started with a can of sad, bean-heavy “chili” from my pantry. You know the one. It tastes like salt and regret. I ate it over the sink like a goblin and thought, “My ancestors did not cross oceans for this.” I remembered my grandma’s chili, which was basically ground beef, a packet of seasoning, and a whole lot of love.
It was perfect. But I’m not my grandma (though I do share her habit of forgetting to turn off the burner). I wanted to see if I, a man who once mistook cayenne for cinnamon in his coffee (do not recommend), could build something epic from the ground up. So I committed. I bought short ribs.
I found dried chiles that looked like they belonged in a potion. I soaked beans for 8 hours. I felt very chef-like. Then I realized I’d started this whole process at 3 PM on a Wednesday. Dinner was going to be… late. Very late.
The story of this chili is the story of me, at 9 PM, covered in various shades of brown paste, yelling “IT’S GOING TO BE WORTH IT” to my very skeptical dog.
Why I Keep Making This Dish (The Real Reasons)
- The Alchemy: Turning a pile of dried, wrinkly chiles and a hunk of beef into something deep, rich, and complex feels like magic. Every time.
- Hard to Truly Ruin: I’ve over-toasted the chiles. I’ve under-chopped the meat. I once forgot the tomato paste for an hour. It’s incredibly forgiving. It just gets… different. Still good.
- Comfort Level Maximum: This isn’t just food. It’s a weighted blanket for your soul. A bad day shrinks in the face of a bowl of this.
- The Aroma Therapy: My house smells like a heroic cowboy’s kitchen for a full 24 hours. It’s better than any candle.
- Looks Impressive, Effort is Deceptive: People think you’re a kitchen wizard. They don’t need to know you mostly just stood around and stirred occasionally while watching three episodes of a show.
- Leftovers Are the Prize: The first bowl is great. The bowl you eat straight from the fridge at midnight two days later is a spiritual experience.
Tips I Learned the Hard Way
- Don’t Fear the Chiles: Toasting them smells intense, like you’ve made a terrible mistake. You haven’t. It’s just them waking up. If you see a wisp of smoke, pull them off. Burnt chile is sad chile.
- The Fat is Flavor Gold: Don’t you dare pour all that gorgeous rendered beef fat down the drain. You worked for that! Strain it and use it to cook your onions. This is the secret handshake of good chili.
- Chop the Meat Chunky: You’re braising it for hours. If you chop it too small, it’ll just disappear. You want little beefy treasures in every bite.
- The Weird Stuff Works: Anchovies, chocolate, coffee, Marmite… it sounds like a dare. But they don’t make it taste like fish or dessert. They just disappear into the background, making everything else taste more beefy and deep. Trust the process.
- Taste at the End, Season Then: Do NOT salt heavily at the beginning, especially with the beans soaking up broth. Do all your seasoning—salt, pepper, extra vinegar or hot sauce—right at the end, to your taste.
- Low and Slow is the Law: Once it’s simmering, your job is to keep it at the laziest bubble imaginable. A raging boil will make the meat tough and the beans mushy. Patience, padawan.
- Bones are Flavor Bombs: Leaving the bones in while it cooks is a free flavor upgrade. It’s like a little beef tea bag stewing in your pot. Just remember to fish them out later.
The Best Homemade Chili Recipe
Ingredients
Method
- In a large bowl, combine the kidney beans, 6 tbsp of salt, and 4 quarts of water. Let them soak at room temperature for at least 8 hours (or up to a day). When ready to cook, drain and rinse the beans thoroughly.
- Toast the dried chiles in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat for 2-5 minutes until fragrant and slightly darker (don’t let them smoke). Remove and set aside. Alternatively, microwave them on a plate for about 30 seconds until pliable.
- In the same pot over medium heat, toast the cumin, coriander, cloves, and star anise until fragrant. Let them cool slightly, then grind them into a powder using a spice grinder.
- Pat the short ribs dry and season generously with salt and pepper. Heat the vegetable oil in the Dutch oven over high heat. Brown the ribs in batches (don’t crowd the pan!) until well-seared on all sides, about 8-12 minutes per batch. Transfer them to a plate. Pour the rendered fat from the pot into a small bowl and save it.
- With the pot off the heat, add 1 cup of the chicken broth and scrape up all the browned bits from the bottom. Bring to a bare simmer, then add the toasted chiles. Cook until the chiles are soft and the liquid is reduced by half (5-8 mins).
- Transfer the chiles and liquid to a blender. Add the ground spices, chocolate, tomato paste, coffee, anchovies, soy sauce, and Marmite. Blend on high until you have a completely smooth paste. Set this aside.
- Once the short ribs are cool enough to handle, cut the meat off the bones and chop it into ½-inch chunks. Keep the bones.
- Heat 4 tablespoons of the reserved beef fat (add vegetable oil if you're short) in the Dutch oven over medium heat. Cook the diced onion until soft (6-8 mins). Add the garlic, fresh chiles, and oregano, and cook for 1 more minute until fragrant.
- Add your reserved chile paste to the pot. Cook, stirring constantly, for 2-4 minutes until the paste thickens and starts to stick to the bottom of the pan.
- Add the remaining chicken broth, the chopped beef, the beef bones, and the bay leaves. Scrape the bottom of the pot again. Bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to the lowest setting. Add the drained beans.
- Let it simmer, with the lid slightly ajar, for about 1 hour. Then, add the crushed tomatoes and cider vinegar. Continue simmering, lid slightly ajar, for another 2 to 3 ½ hours, until the beef and beans are completely tender. Add a splash of water if it looks too dry.
- Fish out and discard the bay leaves and bones (you can pick off any extra meat and add it back to the pot). Stir in the vodka (or bourbon), brown sugar, and hot sauce.
- Ladle it into bowls and let everyone add their own garnishes. For the best flavor, let it cool and refrigerate it overnight, then reheat the next day.
Notes
Variations You Can Mess Around With
- The “I Give Up” Version: Use pre-ground chili powder from the store (about 1/4 cup) instead of toasting and grinding your own. It’s still fantastic. No shame.
- Bean Swap: Tired of kidney beans? Try pinto or black beans. They’re all just happy little flavor sponges.
- Heat Adjustment: The fresh Thai bird chiles pack a punch. If you’re heat-shy, use one jalapeño (seeds removed). If you’re a maniac, leave the seeds in or add an extra dried árbol chile.
- Booze Swap: The recipe says vodka or bourbon. Bourbon adds a sweet, smoky note. Vodka just amplifies the other flavors. I’ve used a splash of cheap beer in a pinch. It was fine.
- Meat Swap: Short ribs are king, but a well-marbled chuck roast, cut into chunks, is a worthy and slightly cheaper champion.
- The “What’s in the Fridge?” Finish: Stir in some roasted corn, a can of drained black beans, or some chopped bell peppers with the tomatoes for a different texture.
How I Like to Serve This
- Weeknight Solo Mission: A deep bowl, a big spoon, and maybe a handful of crushed saltines on top. Eaten on the couch.
- Friends Are Over: Ladle it into bowls with a little buffet of garnishes: shredded cheddar, diced onion, sour cream, sliced jalapeños. Let people build their own. Looks fancy, zero extra work for you.
- The Ultimate Pile: A big mound of Fritos, chili poured over the top, cheese melted on. This is objectively the correct way to eat chili while watching sports.
- With Cornbread: If I’m feeling ambitious (and remember to preheat the oven), a box of Jiffy cornbread mix is its best friend.
- Leftover Lunch: In a thermos. Makes your coworkers deeply jealous.
Storage, Leftovers, and Next-Day Thoughts
- Fridge Fame: It tastes even better the next day, and will happily live in your fridge for 4-5 days. The flavors get to know each other. They become best friends.
- Reheat Gently: Don’t blast it in the microwave on high. Use a lower power or reheat it slowly in a pot with a splash of water or broth. It prevents the beans from turning to mush.
- The Fat Cap is Okay: When it cools, fat will solidify on top. You can skim it off if you want, but I usually just stir it back in. That’s where the flavor lives!
- Freezer Friendly: Portion it into containers and freeze for up to 3 months. It’s a gift from Past You to Future You on a terrible day.
- Next-Day Upgrade: Seriously, the leftovers are the goal. Plan to make this a day ahead if you can. It’s a total game-changer.
FAQs (Real Questions People Actually Ask)
Can I make this ahead of time?
Yes, please do! In fact, you should. The flavor on day two or three is the whole point.
What if I don’t have [weird ingredient] like Marmite or anchovies?
Skip it. The chili will still be phenomenal. The recipe is a roadmap, not a law.
Is this supposed to look like a weird brown paste when I’m cooking the chile mixture?
Yes. For a minute, you’ll think you’ve ruined it. It will look thick and stick to the pan. This is called “frying the paste” and it’s a good thing. Just have your chicken broth ready to deglaze the pan right after.
Can I use canned beans?
You can, but add them in the last 30 minutes of cooking so they don’t turn to complete mush. The texture will be different, but it’ll still be chili.
How do I fix it if it’s too spicy?
A dollop of sour cream or a sprinkle of sugar in the pot can help tame the heat. Serve with extra cheese and carbs (rice, cornbread) to dilute it on your spoon.
My beans are still hard!
You might have old beans, or you didn’t simmer them gently enough. Just keep cooking, adding liquid as needed, until they tender up. Sometimes beans are just stubborn.
Can I make this in a slow cooker?
Absolutely. Do all the browning, toasting, and puréeing steps on the stove, then dump everything into the slow cooker and cook on low for 6-8 hours.
