Texas chili, by way of San Francisco

Last weekend, the husband got it in his head that he wanted to make some chili. But he didn't want to make it with ground beef; he wanted to do it with big chunks of steak. We'd both heard this referred to as "Texas-style," although now that I've looked at so many recipes for chili, I'm not sure that's true. In any case, on Sunday, when I set out for my afternoon with the girls, I told him he should find a good recipe and we could make it together when I got home.

He found a couple of different recipes that we sort of combined, but we stayed true to the real essence of chili, or any kind of stew, which is to make it the way you like it, and fiddle with it until you get it right. And wouldn't you know it, the husband and I like our chili just the same way.

We browned some top sirloin in a dutch oven, then set it aside, and cooked the usual aromatics--onion, garlic, and celery--along with chili powder, cumin, and marjoram. Added the beef back to the pot, along with a hefty glug of red wine, and scraped up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Then came the tomatoes, a little can of green chilies, kidney beans, worchestershire sauce, a dash of hot sauce, salt and pepper, and we were good to go. It came together in under an hour and it looked like this.

In a perfect world, I would have had some sour cream to swirl on top, but instead I just garnished my chili with grated cheddar cheese and cilantro. As you're well aware, cilantro is one of the great dividers of the world, along with religion, politics, and eggplant. We are split in this house: I like it, although I don't do much with it besides toss it on top of things like chili verde to add a fresh finish. The husband wants nothing to do with it. He also doesn't care much for sour cream or grated cheese or garnishes in general; I've noticed that he quietly pushes them aside and just digs in to what's underneath. I can't rid myself of the need to garnish things, particularly soups and stews, but I understand his skepticism of what they really add to the dish.

What I like best with chili is cornbread, but I'd used the last of my cornmeal on some blueberry corn muffins the day before. We considered cooking up some rice, but in the interest of time and hunger opted for some plain crackers crumbled over the top. It was the perfect, lazy dinner after a cool and rainy day, and provided us with lots of leftovers, that last of which we ate today for lunch.