Prepping for the Months Ahead. . .

Yes, I know.  The average person hears the word "prepping" or the term "prepper", and the first thing that comes to mind is that semi-unstable guy down the road with a basement full of canned goods and water jugs and the tendency to dig holes in his yard at odd hours of the night.  This is not about anything like that.  Though I do advocate having a store of non-perishable foods for emergencies, all we're going to talk about tonight is keeping yourself in tomatoes and veg for the year.

When you have a large family, groceries take up an enormous chunk of your monthly budget.  With all the soups, stews, and pastas we make, it is truly staggering just to think of the amount of tomatoes my family consumes in a year.  This is why I garden.  Let's face it, quality produce is sometimes hard to come by.  Either produce was picked to soon, so as not to ripen before reaching its destination, or it arrives in a little sad shape to the grocery store.  Some items can even be off the trees for nearly a year before reaching the grocers' shelves, spending most of its life in cold storage, or what not.  This is not to rag on commercial growers--they're doing what they need to do in order to ensure the crop remains sellable when it hits the store.  I'm just saying that it's not always the best when it arrives.

That's what makes local farmers' markets such a wonderful thing.  Many farmer's markets are stocked with locally grown produce and some domestically grown items (meaning they shipped things in that can't be easily grown in that area).  These market are usually run by one or two people you can actually get to know well enough to get the lowdown on everything they sell.  Some other types of markets look the same, but will only have one or two "local" items, and the rest of the stock is shipped in from all over the planet.  You can still get some good produce, but pay attention to labeling.

 The absolute best produce to have is, of course, your own.  Today, I ventured into my greenhouse for the first time since the snow flew, taking stock of seeds I had left out for the winter temperatures to set, and looking over the onions that I had left to go dormant.  It is the second week of April and we are still looking at the possibility of snow on the Copper Island, though the temperatures should be steadily increasing over the course of the week.  The itch to garden is becoming maddening!

Were I still down home, my garden would already be tilled, as the Kentucky Derby heralded the start of the planting season.  Up in the hinterlands, there is no telling when winter will let go of you, plus the threat of frost is real up to and sometimes through June.  With such a stunted growing season, you have to do what you can to artificially extend summer for your plants.

The first step is, of course, to make a plan for the season.  It's more than just putting some seeds in the ground and standing back; you have to work for it.  Whether you have acres to till, or just a postage stamp-sized yard, you have to figure out where things are going to go, and when.  Do you till a row for potatoes, or do you put in a spud box between the privacy fence and the central air unit?  What about frost?  Which plants will survive and which ones need more coddling?  I always begin the cycle with the plants that we depend upon the most:  tomatoes and peppers.  I'll plant seeds in starter trays to get the jump on the warm weather.  When they've reached a good transplant size, I'll put them in tilled soil (usually, the snow has abated by then) or in planters.  As long as the threat of frost exists, I have a portable greenhouse that I sit over them for protection.  Once we're beyond that threat, in go the onion sets.  That spud box I mentioned?  I'm using one of those this year, just to see how it works out.  I will still be putting potatoes in the ground, for sure, but you never know what might come in handy.

For anyone who has grown tomatoes successfully, you are aware that they will start producing slowly then, all of a sudden, it looks like a tomato bomb has hit your garden, and you start looking for people go give the fallout to.  Peppers come in a close second, and onions never make it to that point, as I have an awesome recipe for onion soup.  As for leafy greens, I will be planting spinach in elevated planters and lettuce will just be strewn, ornamentally, about the yard.  I am literally turning my yard into a side salad.

Over the course of this adventure, I will be applying some massive amounts of science to different techniques, up to and including the canning of our harvest.  I am going to be experimenting with different methods of composting, and a biomass heater that may or may not keep me growing through the winter.  During this little romp, I welcome open discussion, both here and on the Cooking for Adventurers Facebook page.  I'd like to hear what has and hasn't worked for you in your own gardening experiments.  I will, most likely, be offering to build spud boxes, for a price, on the Copper Island Makerspace Facebook page, also.

And, just in case you forgot why we're here in the first place, here's something you can do with all of your newly-grown tomatoes.  This is a bit of a modification on the recipe you'll find in the pages of "Cooking for Adventurers":

MARINARA SAUCE

• 1/4 Cup pinot grigio (or, for a lilt of flavor, a white zinfandel works nicely)
• 1 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1 Small onion, chopped well
• 2 Garlic cloves, pressed or finely chopped
• 3 Cups diced tomatoes
• 6 Oz. tomato paste
• 3/4 Tsp. salt
• 1/4 Tsp. coarse ground pepper
• 2 Tbsp. Chopped basil
• 1 Tbsp. Oregano
• 1/2 cup chopped mushrooms, if desired

Heat the oil in a 4 quart saucepan over medium heat.  Add onion and cook until tender, stirring occasionally.  Add the mushrooms and keep stirring for a minute.  Add the garlic and cook for a minute longer (don't let it scorch!).  Stir in the tomatoes, wine, tomato paste, salt, and pepper, then heat to boiling.  Reduce the heat to a slow simmer, add the basil and oregano, and stir occasionally for fifteen to twenty minutes to blend the flavors.  This sauce freezes well, so don't be afraid to make extra!

We'll get into the ins and outs of making your own tomato paste and other sauces in other posts.  For now, it's time for bed and dreams of warmer weather.  Here's to a good start to your gardens this year, fellow Adventurers!

Something Fishy This Way Comes. . .

I have fish and the ability to make fire--why should a little snow stop me?

The biggest thing about living on the country's northern frontier is that you never know what the weather is going to do to you, from one day to the next.  The first and second weeks of spring were much colder and snowier than the 50° days we experienced the last week of winter.  Despite the cold, despite the snow, my grill has been begging to be used for quite a while, so today salmon met fire.

Now, out of all the proteins, fish may seem to be the most daunting to successfully grill, but a little practice and some handy tricks make the whole chore quite easy:

• Learn to gauge your temperature!  This makes all the difference between a nicely-cooked salmon fillet and unintentional sushi.  We'll talk about this in a minute.
• Clean your grill!  No matter how tiny, any leftover debris is going to stick to your fish.  Heat the grill to loosen any stuck-on debris (use a wire brush), coat it with oil, then scrub it again with some soap and water.  Wipe it down with an oil-soaked paper towel before use.
• Brush the fish with an oil or marinade.
• Make certain the grill is good and hot before placing the fish on it.  The instant sear helps keep the fish from sticking.  Placing the fish across the grill bars will also minimize the amount of contact.

As far as heat goes, you should shoot for a 'moderate' range, as determined by the "hand thermometer" method (you did read "Cooking for Adventurers", didn't you?  That's on pages 54-55).  At this temperature, the fish will cook thoroughly without needing to be turned.  How long it takes will depend on whether or not you can trap the heat in with a lid, or if you are cooking on an open pit.  The fish will flake easily with a fork when done.  One last thing to note is that, if you are cooking fillets, you should leave the skin ON.  You won't lose any meat because it stuck to the grill, and it will peel off easily when the fish is done.

Now, how should you prepare it?

The simplest way to prep a good sized salmon fillet is to just give it a little pepper and smear your favorite barbecue sauce on it.  Barbecue sauce will glaze well in the grill, especially if you aren't cooking directly over the fire, and will blend well with the flavor of the wood smoke.

With the proper temperature, salmon will cook in a closed grill in the neighborhood of about 15-25 minutes, depending on the size of the fillet.  Don't forget that wind and ambient temperature are also factors that could slow cooking.  Today, it took me around 30 minutes to cook these fillets, but the temperature was in the low 20s with a 15 m.p.h. wind.  Cooking outdoors requires a bit more attention than cooking in a climate-controlled kitchen, for sure!

Another way to prepare your fish before cooking is with a simple marinade.  Try this one:

• 1/3 Cup beer
• 1 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 Tsp thyme
• 1 Tsp ground mustard
• 1/2 Tsp garlic powder
• 1/4 Tsp Salt & Pepper

Place the fish in the marinade for about 20-30 minutes, prior to cooking.  Grill at moderate temperature until meat flakes with a fork (again, usually about 15-25 minutes).

If the weather outside is just too ridiculous, or you just can't dig the grill out of all of that snow, both of these prep methods can be translated to the oven.  Place the salmon in an oiled, shallow baking pan for 15 minutes at 450°, or in the broiler for about 10 minutes.  These methods work the best if your fillets are completely skinned.

And that's it!  Serve immediately with whatever side items you like.  I tend towards baked potatoes and mixed veg, but the possibilities are endless.  The main rule, like with anything else, is to not overthink things.  The first time I grilled fish over a campfire, I was so worried that it wasn't going to cook thoroughly that I almost flipped it over.  Thankfully, it broke apart, indicating that it was completely cooked.  Had I flipped it, it would have stuck to the grill instantly, making more of a mess than a meal.  Learn from some of my mistakes--you can't possibly make them all yourself, can you?

Pick up your own copy of Cooking for Adventurers and help the author keep cooking!  You can get one here!

Wrangling Mealtime. . .

It's a somewhat chilly spring day, rain soaking the ground in a constant blatter, and you've been working since early in the morning, stopping only for a cup of coffee when your brain became conscious enough of the time.  We've all been there.  For me, working today meant finishing up some woodworking projects and trying to make a little more progress on the workshop, itself.  It's spring break, so the kids have been helping me--there's nothing that keeps you apprised of mealtimes so much as four kids asking "what's for dinner" in quadraphonic stereo.

In situations like these, you find yourself wanting to take the easy way out, because cooking a full meal means more work.  Well, that's usually the case, but today I had my mind on some "cowboy" pork chops that I had recently acquired and wanted to be creative with.  Despite what one would think, pork is probably one of the easiest things to cook, especially if you pair it with simple items.  Tonight, we baked potatoes and garnished with sauteed onions and mushrooms, but I'm getting ahead of myself. . .

A "cowboy" cut is, simply, a rib-eye style pork chop, cut straight off the rack with the bone left in.  It is usually thicker than your average pork chop, and very well marbled.  They are excellent grilled or fried, but when you want to take the easy route, baking is the way to go.

Now, the guidelines on what is "done" have changed a bit for pork, but they are pretty straightforward.  As I mentioned in "Cooking for Adventurers", it is impossible to tell by sight alone whether or not your protein has been thoroughly cooked; for that, you need a meat thermometer.  For pork, it must be cooked to an internal temperature of 145° and allowed to rest for three minutes.  You might prefer to cook it to a higher temperature, as this could still leave a bit of a pinkish cast to the meat, but that is entirely your call.  Pork chops usually are done within 20 minutes if baked at 450°, but these chops are quite large, and I have allotted more cook time.

Tonight's meal also calls for the use of a dry rub.  I used a grilling blend that I normally reserve for red meats but, as I said, I wanted to get creative.  Here's what I did tonight:

COWBOY PORK CHOPS

• 1 Cowboy chop for everyone in your group
• 1 Large onion, cut into petals
• 6 oz. fresh mushrooms (or 1 can, drained)
• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• Seasoned pepper (to taste)
• Dry rub of your choice (try 1 Tbsp. each of Garlic powder, Onion powder, and  Black pepper with 2 Tsp. Cayenne and Sea salt)
• Barbeque sauce (approx. 1/4 to 1/3 cup)
• 6-8 oz. any type of beer

Heat oven to 450°.  Rub chops with one Tbsp. olive oil, then massage in a generous amount of dry rub.  Arrange on a baking sheet and cook for 20 minutes.

Heat 1 Tbsp. olive oil in a saute pan, then cook onions, stirring constantly, until they just start to become tender.  Add the mushrooms and continue to saute for about another two minutes.  Add beer to the pan and sprinkle with seasoned pepper.  Reduce heat just enough to keep the beer simmering, energetically.  The goal is to just about cook off all the juices.  If you're really good, you'll time this just so as to finish the garnish at the same time as the pork chops!

Take the chops out of the oven at the 20 minute mark, but leave the oven on.  Coat chops on the top and sides with barbecue sauce and put them back in the oven to cook for 12 minutes more.

And that's basically it!  Like I said, we went with baked potatoes to go along with them, but the plate could just as easily be finished out with baked or sauteed veg.  How complex you want to be is entirely your choice.

Meals fit for adventurers do not have to be complex, nor do they have to take up your entire day in the preparation.  Don't forget to subscribe to the email list (the link is off to the right) so you don't miss any of my frequently infrequent posts.  While you're at it, you can visit the Cooking for Adventurers FB fan page here, and you can even pop over to the store at Copper Island Makerspace's website and buy my book!  You will help feed the starving author, obtain a valuable learning tool, and help pave the way for my next couple of books, "With Great Food Comes Great Responsibility"

and "AAAAAIIIGGGH! and Other Noises your Electrician Shouldn't Make".

The Needs of the Many. . .

While writing "Cooking for Adventurers", I came to a realization--I no longer find cooking for a few easy.  Normally, it is just the opposite.  Normal people can cook for themselves and one or two people easily, yet have difficulty cooking for large groups.  I have been cooking for a houseful for so long that I have difficulty scaling things down.

Our weeks are, like most families', ridiculously hectic.  The kids have school and after-school activities, Kim has her girl scouts, and I work, literally, all over the place.  At least once a week we make something that generates huge amounts of excess servings, in order to accommodate the need for lunches and quickie meals when making something new isn't an option.  Large pots of chili, Brunswick stews, or burgoo usually fit the bill well.  In fact, burgoo will generate more than you can handle with storage containers and reused butter bowls alone, so you have to invite friends and family over when you make it (I'm pretty sure the word, "burgoo", is probably an old, Native American word for "you are going home with leftovers").

Today, we took advantage of the excellent weather and drove to a favorite spot of ours, up north.  Though there is still an abundant pile of snow on the landscape, many places that were buried have begun to open up, thanks to some unseasonably warm weather over the last couple of weeks, including one of my favorite fishing holes.  It was getting pretty late by the time we made our way home and my father, who is diabetic, had to eat pretty soon after we arrived, so I needed a fairly simple solution.  We had been discussing the absence of salmon in our recent diet, so the decision was made:  Salmon patties!

Now, don't get too put off by the size of this recipe.  I was cooking for four adults and four kids tonight.  I'll tell you how to cut it down, also.

SALMON PATTIES

4 Cans Salmon (14.75 oz.)
1 Cup bread crumbs
1 Medium onion, diced
4 eggs
2 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 Tbsp. Olive oil
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
Salt & Pepper to taste

Dice the entire onion and saute in olive oil until they become soft and semi-translucent.  Set aside to cool.

Mix Salmon with bread crumbs, eggs, and Worcestershire Sauce, then mix in the onions.  Form into patties,  This amount of ingredients will yield approximately 20 hamburger-sized patties ( 2.5" diameter x .5" thick)

Melt butter in a saute pan over medium heat and cook patties until done throughout (they will be a golden brown on both sides)--this usually takes 3-4 minutes on each side.  Adjust your heat if they are browning too quickly.

IF YOU'RE NOT COOKING FOR A SMALL ARMY. . .

1 Can Salmon
1/4 Cup bread crumbs
1 Smallish onion, diced
1 Egg
2 Tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 Tbsp. Olive oil
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter

Follow the directions above!

Don't be disappointed if they don't want to stay together the first time or two you make them.  There are several factors that will affect the mixture, including the natural juices in the salmon and even the absorbency of the bread crumbs.  Once you become skilled at making the patties, you can actually make little salmon loaves out of this mix (or one big one, if you use the larger recipe).

Those of you with large families will understand the struggle of downsizing what you would normally cook.  For us, I'm not entirely certain what we are going to do when the kids are all grown and out of the house; we'll probably have friends over for dinner more often.  If you get an invite from us, bring your own empty butter bowls. . .

Breaking a Few Eggs. . .

Admittedly, I get lazy sometimes.  The whole reason I wrote a cookbook was because of the idea to organize all of my recipes into one well-ordered location.  On that note, this has been a difficult week--work has been especially demanding, some sort of alien space plague has been circulating through the members of the household, and in situations like this, cooking complex meals is sort of a low-priority interest.  It's times like these when the adventurer falls back on simpler times.  Thoughts of ramen-fueled college nights and your fondness for fried bologna start to pop into your head when you come home after a 12 hour shift and have to make certain everyone is still alive.  It's times like these when you remember how good "breakfast for dinner" can be.

I learned a long time ago that, if you needed something good and quick, eggs in the fridge were your best choice.  As a rule, unless you insist on being complicated, eggs cook up quickly and easily; plus, with the myriad of ways they can be prepared, you could eat them every night (or morning) of the week and have something different each time.  Eggs have, on average, 6 grams of protein each, which also make them a good post-workout food.  That being said, eggs have been on both sides of the nutritional fence over the last several decades, due in no small part to the fact that they have, on average, 187 mg of cholesterol each.  The thing is, your body makes its own cholesterol, so it will be in your system whether you eat that egg or not.  Some people have high cholesterol because their bodies do not recognize that they are ingesting it adequately enough through their diet, and it doesn't slow down its own production.  On the other side of the coin, you can also have high cholesterol from eating too much and leading a non-active lifestyle.  Good rule of thumb:  visit your doctor once and a while.

Unless you're making a ridiculously complex frittata, most egg dishes can be cooked in a few minutes with little fuss.  Poached eggs take approximately three minutes, and scrambled generally take a bit less.  When I scramble eggs, I usually mix everything into the container I'm beating the eggs in and pour it all into the pan at once (except sausage--you want to make sure it is thoroughly cooked).

POACHED EGGS-->

• Bring water to a steady simmer in a small saucepan
• Add a dash of vinegar to the water
• Crack the egg into a small cup or bowl (this makes inserting it into the water much easier)
• Stir the water in the pan until you get a steady "whirlpool" motion.  This helps hold the egg together when you pour it in
• Pour the egg into the center of the whirlpool, as close to the surface as you can manage
• Don't stir it, touch it, poke it, or even look at it sternly.  It will cook in three minutes
• Take the egg out of the water with a slotted spoon and drain it for a bit on a paper towel

When done properly, a poached egg will usually be teardrop-shaped with a firm white and runny yolk.  Don't be discouraged if it doesn't turn out well the first dozen times you try this.

If you absolutely insist on trying to poach eggs in the microwave (which can, by the way, cause them to explode), crack an egg into a half-cup of water in a small, microwaveable container and cover it with a plate.  Microwave on high for a minute.  If, after a minute, it still isn't quite right, cook it no more than 15 seconds at a time until it's done.

SCRAMBLED EGGS-->

By far, the easiest method, scrambling an egg consists of cracking your eggs into a bowl or measuring cup, and then beating them to within an inch of their lives before pouring them into a hot pan.  The more vigorously you beat the eggs, the fluffier they will be.

• Beat eggs, adding anything you think that would go well with them.  Salt, pepper, sliced mushrooms, onions, cheese, or even salsa!
• Heat around two tablespoons of butter in a nonstick pan over medium heat (or use cooking spray, if butter gives you the heebie-jeebies)
• Pour in the eggs, folding them as they solidify.  With the flipper inverted, pull them across the pan.  This gives them that fluffy, curd-shape.  Keep folding until they are completely cooked.
• Serve immediately!  I'm not sure what the R-value is on the average egg, but they cool off quickly.

Even in "Cooking for Adventurers" I shied away from getting too in-depth with frying eggs.  The method is simple; you crack an egg into a hot pan and cook it until it stops wiggling enough for you to enjoy eating it.  Whether you flip or not depends on the heat and your liking for "Sunnyside up" vs. "Over Easy".  I have, on occasion, used vegetable rings (onions, peppers, etc.) to better contain and flip the eggs, and I have accidentally fried the eggs I intended to use for my chow mien stir fry, because I got way ahead of myself.

One fun note:  People tend to avoid cooking eggs in cast iron pans, as the eggs will (harmlessly) take on a greenish color.

But, there you go--the rudiments of cooking the simple egg.  They're good for when you want to be fancy, or when you're feeling lazy.  The egg doesn't judge.  I've paired them with bacon, steak, and even the aforementioned fried bologna.  We'll get into some more complex recipes in the near future, including a Finnish dessert that everyone loves, and is ridiculously simple to make.  As a matter of fact, I have this weekend off; maybe I'll show you guys how to make your own bologna. . .

Just Wok on By. . .

Second only to my freakish love for Indian food is my love for the other Asian cuisines.  I considered it no small feat when I learned to properly fry rice and noodles, and when I figured out General's Chicken, it was a cause for celebration.

Asian cuisine isn't difficult, though it requires practice and patience.  The first time you fry noodles, half of them will probably stick to the wok, for one reason or another, or you will get too excited stirring your veg and kick a good portion out onto the stovetop.  For me, I would get ahead of myself and realize I forgot to whip the eggs only after I had dropped them in the pan, turned to get my flipper, then turned back to see two perfect sunnyside up eggs looking back at me from the bottom of the pan.

My wok is one of the invaluable tools of the kitchen, but they're not for everyone; you either love them or hate them.  I will actually cross lines of nationality with mine, using it in place of a saute pan whenever the situation allows.  Tonight, for example, I made a version of my quick curry using Tandoori Masala, and did the whole thing up in the wok.

The only difference between this recipe and my "Curry in a Hurry" from the January 14th post is the fact that I substituted the Tandoori Masala for the vindaloo curry powder, and I also simmered the sauce long enough for it to reduce a bit, making for a thicker consistency.  The rice in the picture at right was cross-contamination, as I failed to get a picture before my kids (read:  locusts) started to mow into it.

For more traditional-style stir fries, you have to be a bit more alert when cooking.  Stir frying requires constant attention (obviously since it's not called "watch it frying").  The first thing to do is to heat the pan or wok with oil, then start to cook your protein.  When the protein is cooked through, add whatever sauce you prefer, be it soy, teriyaki, hoisin, or something more involved (see below).  Set the meat aside, wipe out the wok, and reheat it again.  Begin adding your vegetables, with those that take the longest to cook going in first.  Once the veg has cooked, you can add the noodles, stirring the whole mess constantly until it is heated throughout.  Regardless of the flavor of the protein, I will generally use a homemade hoisin sauce at this point, simply because I enjoy the flavor.  As far as noodles go, anything will work, as long as they are prepared properly.  A noodle that is mushy when it goes in the pan will stick terribly--you want to shoot for al dente.  Serve up the stir-fry noodles and veg on a plate and top with the protein.

Now, here's something to play with:

GENERAL'S CHICKEN SAUCE

3 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. rice wine
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar (can substitute white vinegar)
2 Tbsp. prepared chicken bouillon or broth
3 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. cornstarch
1 Tsp. sesame oil
2 Tsp. peanut oil
3 Cloves garlic, minced
1 Tsp. finely grated ginger
1 Small onion, chopped
Dried, red chilies, to taste.

Mix the first seven ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.  Heat peanut oil in pan and cook the last four ingredients until they begin to soften.  Back off the heat if they are cooking too quickly, as the idea is not to let anything scorch.  Add the sauce and bring the mixture to a boil, stirring constantly, until the sauce thickens.

General's chicken is a two-stage process, as the chicken is usually cut into chunks, batter-dipped, and fried before it even gets to see the sauce.  The batter-dipped part can be skipped, in lieu of just pan-frying, as long as the chicken gets thoroughly cooked.  The easiest way to finish it off is to just mix the cooked chicken with the General's sauce in an oven-safe pan and bake it for 10-15 minutes at about 350°.  This gives you the opportunity to concentrate on your fried rice or noodles, without having to worry about stirring another pan on the stovetop.

And there you go; the mystery of Asian cuisine without having to order takeout.  Other recipes are much easier, while some are more difficult, but the fact remains, if you have an adventurous mind, a lot of patience, and plenty of friends to test things out on, you're in for a rewarding experience.

Does it Have to be Chilly When You Eat Chili?

Another American staple with questionable origins is Chili.  Mutterings about stews resembling chili date back as far as the 17th century, but its origin point seems to be somewhere between Texas and the California gold fields.  Called the "pemmican of the southwest" by chili aficionado Everrette DeGolyer (1886-1956), his records seemed to indicate the birth of the traditional stew happening around 1850, when trail cooks made dried bricks of meat, fat, salt, pepper, and chilies to carry on long journeys that could be easily rehydrated in boiling water.

Whichever story you believe (and there are a whopping lot of them), the simple fact is that there are as many ways to make chili as there are people who like it.  Many like it hot, while some like it mild; likewise, you have the whole noodle/no noodle argument.  There is even a "Cincinnati style", which isn't a chili at all, but rather a Mediterranean meat sauce that is used as a spaghetti or hot dog topping.  A very good friend of mine makes a version called "Fireball Chili" every year around Winter Carnival time at Michigan Tech.  It is a relatively evil concoction which, if not treated with respect, will actually dissolve nose hairs just for being too close to the pot.  It is cooked to the point that the meat nearly dissolves into the mixture--you could feed it to someone with no teeth, provided you didn't care that they burst into flames in the process.

Given that I enjoy spicy foods, I am cooking for others as well, so I tend to back it down a bit.  My standby chili tends to be rather thick, and can be adjusted for heat and group size with ease.  I usually make it with ground beef, but it is excellent with cubed steak or roast, and several different types of meat, such as pork, chicken, or venison.  Cooking is chemistry, so don't be afraid to experiment.

CHILI, V1.0:

1 Tbsp olive oil

Cook on Low for 6-8 hours, if you use a slow cooker!

1.5 Lbs. ground beef (or any other meat you want to try)
1 Large onion, roughly chopped
1 Green bell pepper, chopped
2 Jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped
1 Can diced tomatoes and chilies
1 Can tomato sauce
1 Can light red chili beans (black beans are excellent, too)
1 Tbsp. chili powder
1 Tsp. crushed red pepper
Shredded cheese (sharp cheddar or Monterrey Jack)

In a three-quart saucepan or stock pot, heat oil and saute onions and jalapenos until the onions become slightly translucent and the peppers become fragrant.  Remove from pot and set aside.  In the same pan, brown beef and drain off any grease.  Combine all ingredients except the cheese, stirring well to break up tomatoes.  Simmer over medium-low heat for about thirty minutes, stirring occasionally.  Keep in mind, the longer you simmer, the better the flavors will blend.  Sprinkle generously with cheese when serving.
**If desired, the addition of 7-10 ounces of prepared elbow macaroni can be added, or just serve over spaghetti noodles, too**

This recipe isn't rocket science, but how you treat it determines the outcome.  This makes a thick stew with a pronounced warmth.  If you really want to bring out the heat of the jalapenos, rather than sauteing them with the whole onion, liquefy them in a food processor with half of the chopped onion (just remember to keep your eyes and nose away from the finished product).  I do, of course, incorporate other spices and herbs, such as cinnamon, thyme, and Mexican epazote, to name a few (in one version, I even use black coffee).

The point is, however you decide you like it best, Chili is a dish with no season.  Serve it when the snow is piling up, or when the troops come back to camp from  the day's adventures.  Just remember to keep experimenting, and don't be afraid to embrace the spice!