Chili Cheeseburgers

Season opener. 3-0 after three weeks. Diego has 321 rushing yards through three games. The offense is operating at a level that the previous two championship teams didn't have — more depth at the skill positions, a better interior line, and a quarterback named Alejandro Cruz who is a junior with a calmness in the pocket that I haven't coached at this level since Jordan Rivera. Some years the parts assemble themselves.

I should mention what Diego looks like on a football field now. He's five-ten, one-eighty-five. He runs the forty in four-five-five, which is D-I speed for a running back. He cuts without telegraph. He passes blocks like an older player. He does not get brought down by the first hit. I'm telling you this not as his father, though I am his father, but as the head coach of a program that recruits and develops players for college, and this player is college-ready now at sixteen years old.

The first recruiting letter arrived at the house on Thursday. Colorado. He brought it to me at the kitchen table and set it down with a careful deliberateness that told me he understood this was a moment. I picked it up and read it. I told him what I always tell kids when the first letter comes: this is the beginning of a process, not the end of one. Do not let this change your next practice. He nodded. "I know, Dad." He always knows. He says it anyway because we both need to hear it said.

Green chile stew to mark the opener. Every season opener gets the stew: pork, potato, hominy, green chile, slow and long. It's in the kitchen when we get home. It's the first meal of the season. It sets the tone for what follows.

The green chile stew is the tradition — it always will be — but some nights the energy in the house calls for something you can eat standing up at the counter before you’ve even changed out of your coaching clothes. Three wins in three weeks, a recruiting letter on the kitchen table, and a sixteen-year-old who somehow already knows how to carry a moment: that kind of night wants something stacked and loud on a plate, something you build by hand. Chili cheeseburgers are what you make when the season announces itself and you want the meal to match it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs ground beef (80/20 blend)
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 can (15 oz) chili with beans, warmed
6 slices sharp cheddar cheese
6 brioche hamburger buns, toasted
1/2 white onion, diced fine
Sliced pickled jalapeños, to taste
Yellow mustard and ketchup, to serve

Instructions

Season the beef. In a large bowl, combine ground beef with garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, cumin, salt, and pepper. Mix gently until just combined — do not overwork the meat.
Form the patties. Divide the seasoned beef into 6 equal portions and press into patties roughly 3/4-inch thick. Press a shallow indent into the center of each with your thumb to prevent puffing during cooking.
Cook the patties. Heat a cast-iron skillet or grill pan over medium-high heat. Cook patties 4 to 5 minutes per side for medium, adjusting to your preferred doneness. Do not press down on the patties while cooking.
Add the cheese. In the last minute of cooking, lay a slice of cheddar over each patty and cover the pan briefly with a lid or foil to melt the cheese.
Warm the chili. While patties rest, heat the canned chili in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until hot and slightly thickened, about 3 to 4 minutes.
Toast the buns. Place buns cut-side down on the hot skillet for 60 to 90 seconds until golden and lightly crisped.
Assemble and serve. Set each cheesy patty on a toasted bun, spoon a generous ladle of hot chili directly over the top, and finish with diced onion, jalapeños, and condiments. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chili Cheeseburgers — The First Meal of a Season That Feels Like Something