Quick and Easy White Chicken Chili. Quick and Easy White Chicken Chili A few weeks ago we had a chili cook-off at my work. It was a ton of fun, and we got to eat lots of good chili. I think we had at least 16 entries, which means there were 16 different types of chili to try. I had a blast trying them out and voting for my favorites. You would think that with so many entries, it would be hard to pick a winner, but as it turns out there was one pot of chili that won by a landslide - my friend Lynn’s white chicken chili.
Not only did she have the most votes by far, but hers was the chili that nearly everyone was talking about as they left the cook-off. Of course I immediately asked her for the recipe and wasted no time in making it for a quick and easy weekend meal. This chili is thick and creamy with a wonderful flavor. Mike loved it as well, but he seemed to think it was more of a dip than a chili. Adios, October! But first, some green chili. Was October a strange month for y'all? It sure was for me. Every time I turned around, it seemed something had gone awry. Whether it was the computer meltdown we had in Phoenix, my erasing almost 200 photos when I accidentally formatted the wrong memory card, gifts I had ordered being sent to the wrong people, important emails ending up in the junk-mail folder or just the endless games of phone tag I played with my friends, almost nothing I did this month was clear and simple.
Now some people chalked up these bizarre twists and turns in communication to Mercury being retrograde. And my being a Gemini, I was doubly doomed as this planet is my ruler. But I don’t believe in that stuff. Not really, anyway. As I’ve been fiddling with one mishap after another, I’d forgotten that October was National Chili Month, an occasion I’m always eager to celebrate. Last year I discussed the merits of Texas Red. Soon after, my New Mexican friends invited me over for dinner. Method:1. P.S. A more precise Texas chili recipe. I love to buy chiles, especially when I find ones that are soft and pliant, so fresh you can imagine they were drying in a Mexican field maybe just last week. I have to be careful, however, when shopping because my storage space is very limited. And the other day when I opened my cabinet, out came tumbling three bags of chiles that hit me on the head. I then realized that I needed to make something that would use up a lot of my supply.
Fortunately, there was a big football game and nothing pleases people watching winter sports more than a big bowl of spicy red chili. Now, I’ve written about chili before and provided you with general guidelines on how I make my chili. So for this batch, I decided to multi-task and wrote down what I was adding to the pot when I made my what I dubbed my seven-chile chili. Some people have grumbled because there’s cinnamon and chocolate in my chili, though these flavors are commonly found in Mexican cuisine. Your soaking chiles should be soft by now. Part one. "Chili is not so much food as a state of mind. Addictions to it are formed early in life and the victims never recover. On blue days in October, I get this passionate yearning for a bowl of chili, and I nearly lose my mind. " - Margaret Cousins, novelist When I woke up this morning, my apartment was as cold as a frosted frog.
My super hasn’t turned on the heat yet, and as all but two of my walls are exterior (which is lovely in terms of light but awful in terms of climate due to shoddy insulation), my hands and feet had turned to marble. And since there's no better way to chase away a case of the chills than hovering over a pot of chili simmering on the stove, I put on my boots and started my preparations. To make true Texas chili—a pot of Texas red—you first need to set the scene. First—you need time. After you go to the store and buy what you need, you should call your friends. Is your knife sharp? Last, but not least, you need to choose your music. 2 AM Chili | Comics. Red bean chili. Last week someone said to me, “You know, my tastes are more Julia Child but my lifestyle is more 30 Minute Meals,” and I thought–really quite smugly, I’m embarrassed to say–”I’m so glad I have all this free time.”
This week I am more certain than ever of the crack I was smoking. Seriously, does anyone else have such denial over what their schedules are and are not? Let me tell you what actually happens in the Smitten Kitchen most nights of the week: My husband, being management and all (I tease), leaves work at 5 p.m. but first asks me if we need anything from the store. I IM him some goofy aspirational shopping list in segments (“this is for dinner,” “this for a side dish,” “and these are for the frozen yogurt I am making for dessert,” “and this is so I can get a head-start on the cake I am baking this weekend!”) I know I may have accidentally given the impression that I cook dinner every night, but what I actually meant was “three times” and “on a good week.”