Barbacoa — Slow-Cooked for a Slow-Counted Night

Election week again, and the household navigates its bipartisan dinner table with the practiced diplomacy of a family that has learned to love across the aisle. Robert voted early. I voted on Tuesday. James voted for the first time — his first presidential election, the first time his voice has been counted in the national conversation, and the first-ness was visible in his face when he returned from the polling place, which was not the library (the library is not a polling place this year, pandemic capacity limits) but a church gymnasium, and the gymnasium held democracy the way a library holds books: imperfectly, temporarily, but with the earnest belief that the container matters less than the contents.

Mama did not vote. The registration has lapsed. The cognitive ability has lapsed. The woman who voted by habit last year has lost the habit, and the loss of the habit is one more thing in a list of lost things that I keep in my head and do not keep on paper because writing the list would make it real in a way that carrying it does not.

Carrie voted by mail from Atlanta — her first presidential vote, mailed from a dormitory, the ballot filled in with the particular care of a young woman who takes civic duty as seriously as she takes ramen. She called after mailing it and said, "I voted," and the statement carried the weight of every conversation we have had at the dining table about justice and responsibility and the obligation of citizens to show up, and the showing up was the ballot, and the ballot was the showing up.

Election night was tense. Robert watched one channel. I watched another. James refreshed his phone. Mama slept. The sleeping was the mercy. The results were slow. The slowness was democracy working the way democracy works: carefully, imperfectly, with the patience that Mama taught me to bring to everything, including the roux and the counting and the faith that the process, however slow, will arrive at the truth.

I made chili — not Lowcountry, not Southern, just chili. The chili simmered on election night while the returns came in, and the simmering was the cooking equivalent of the counting: slow, patient, arriving at the result in its own time, and the result was hot and spicy and shared among three people who agreed on the chili even when they could not agree on anything else.

The chili I made that night was improvised — pulled together from what the pantry offered while the returns crawled across two screens — but if I were to do it again with intention, I would make this barbacoa. It has the same slow patience the night demanded: you set it going and you wait, and the waiting is the cooking, and by the time the results are finally what they are, dinner is ready and the house smells like something worth gathering around. It’s the kind of recipe Mama would have approved of — low heat, long time, trust the process.

Barbacoa

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 8 hours | Total Time: 8 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 3 lbs beef chuck roast, trimmed and cut into 3-inch chunks
• 4 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, plus 2 tablespoons adobo sauce
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1 medium white onion, quartered
• 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
• 1 tablespoon ground cumin
• 1 tablespoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 cup beef broth
• 2 bay leaves
• Corn or flour tortillas, for serving
• Diced white onion, fresh cilantro, and lime wedges, for garnish

Instructions

1. Make the sauce. Combine the chipotle peppers with adobo sauce, garlic, onion, apple cider vinegar, lime juice, cumin, oregano, salt, pepper, and cloves in a blender. Blend until completely smooth.
2. Sear the beef. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches, sear the beef chunks on all sides until browned, about 2—3 minutes per side. Transfer to the slow cooker as each batch finishes.
3. Add the braising liquid. Pour the chipotle sauce and beef broth over the seared beef in the slow cooker. Nestle the bay leaves in among the meat. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours or HIGH for 4—5 hours, until the beef is completely tender and falling apart.
4. Shred and finish. Remove and discard the bay leaves. Use two forks to shred the beef directly in the slow cooker, then stir it into the cooking liquid. Taste and adjust salt. Let the shredded meat rest in the juices for 10 minutes before serving so it absorbs the flavor.
5. Serve. Pile the barbacoa onto warm tortillas and top with diced white onion, fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. Serve with extra cooking juices on the side for spooning over.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 5g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 490mg