Italian Chili -- The Pot That Was Already on the Stove When Caleb Came By

Caleb stopped by Wednesday night. Unannounced, which is his way — he shows up or he does not, and the phone call asking if he can come over has never been part of his vocabulary. He was coming from a job site in Owasso and he was hungry and he smelled like sawdust and he had a six-pack. I had leftover venison chili in the pot and I put the heat on and we stood in the kitchen while it warmed and talked about nothing in particular.

He looked good. Whatever stretch of good we have been in since August has been holding. He is still working the framing job. He has been going to the gym, which is new — he mentioned it casually, the way Caleb mentions things he is slightly proud of, which is sideways, without making eye contact. I said that was good. He said it was something to do. We ate chili and watched part of a game and he left around ten.

After he left I sat in the kitchen for a while and thought about the version of December that involves Caleb not showing up, not answering the phone, the version I have lived through before and will probably live through again. I do not take the good stretches for granted. I know better than that. But I also try not to spend the good stretches anticipating the end of them, because that is its own kind of waste. He was here. The chili was good. He left looking okay. That is December 14th, 2016.

I made a kanuchi attempt Saturday, the fourth serious attempt since Mrs. Sixkiller's critique in July. This one felt different — I pounded the nuts for an hour, which is more than I have ever done, and the resulting paste was almost entirely smooth, the texture closer to nut butter than to rough meal. The broth came out clear and deeply savory with none of the graininess of earlier attempts. Hannah tasted it and said it was very good. I will not declare it right until someone else does, but very good from Hannah is not nothing.

Two weeks to Christmas. The chili is made. The kanuchi is getting right. The tamales start this weekend. The year is almost done and the people I love are mostly okay. That is a lot.

The Italian chili is the recipe from that day — the one I made for my dad, the one that was good, the one that held the afternoon together without asking anything of either of us. I keep coming back to it because it is simple in the right ways and because venison makes it feel like it belongs here, to this place, to this season. Here is how I make it.

Italian Chili (Venison)

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 35 min | Servings: 6–8

Ingredients

• 2 lbs ground venison (or 90/10 ground beef as substitute)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
• 1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 can (15 oz) dark red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (15 oz) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 cup beef or venison stock
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon dried basil
• 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary, crushed
• 1 tablespoon chili powder
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1/2 teaspoon fennel seed, lightly crushed
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• Optional toppings: shredded sharp cheddar, sour cream, sliced scallions, saltine crackers

Instructions

1. Brown the meat. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the ground venison and cook, breaking it up with a wooden spoon, until fully browned and no pink remains, about 8–10 minutes. Venison is lean and will release very little fat; do not drain. If using beef, drain excess fat.
2. Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion and both bell peppers to the pot with the meat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are softened, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
3. Add the tomatoes and paste. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 2 minutes to caramelize slightly. Add the crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes with their liquid, and the stock. Stir to combine.
4. Season. Add the oregano, basil, rosemary, chili powder, smoked paprika, red pepper flakes, fennel seed, salt, pepper, and Worcestershire sauce. Stir well to incorporate all the spices throughout the pot.
5. Add beans and simmer. Stir in both cans of drained beans. Bring the chili to a low boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover partially and simmer for at least 45 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes. The longer it simmers, the better it gets—an hour to an hour and a half is ideal.
6. Adjust and rest. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, or red pepper flakes as needed. Turn off the heat and let the chili rest, covered, for 10 minutes before serving. This is also excellent the next day; reheat gently over medium-low.
7. Serve. Ladle into bowls and top as desired with shredded cheddar, sour cream, and scallions. Saltines on the side are not optional.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 620mg