By I have been making chili. Not a special reason — just that the air finally dropped to where the furnace has turned on for the first time, and when the furnace comes on for the first time in the season there is only one correct response. Chili, a pan of cornbread, and a Saturday afternoon with no obligations.
This is my mother's chili recipe, which means it has kidney beans and green pepper and a blend of cumin and chili powder that she kept in a labeled jar in her spice cabinet for so many years the label faded and she wrote a new one over the old one in black marker. I use that same blend. I use that same proportion. The proportions are not written down anywhere because I have made this chili enough times that my hands know them without consultation.
Kezia came by Saturday afternoon — she has started calling ahead to see if she can come watch me cook on weekends, which I find I am happy to accommodate. She watched me make the chili and asked every question she had, which was many. What does the spice jar say? Why kidney beans? Why not just add salt at the end? What's the difference between the cornbread for chili and the cornbread for the table meal? I answered all of them. The cornbread for chili is plainer, less sweet, meant to soak up rather than stand on its own. She wrote that down.
I was telling someone at Bernice's Table this week about the two weddings and she said, my Lord, that's a lot of joy all at once. I said yes, but I think that's how joy arrives sometimes — not parceled out in manageable amounts but all at once, like a month of rain. You get soaked and then you have enough stored up to get through the dry season. I am feeling that. I am feeling stocked up. The dry seasons come, but right now there is plenty.
While the chili was doing its slow work on the stove and Kezia was still asking questions I was happy to answer, I made a bowl of kettle corn to set between us — something to pass the time without pulling attention away from the pot. That’s the thing about kettle corn: it’s ready in the time it takes to explain why you don’t add salt at the end. It asks almost nothing of you, and on a day when you are already feeling stocked up, that’s exactly the right kind of recipe to reach for.
Kettle Corn
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup popcorn kernels
- 1/4 cup vegetable oil
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 tsp fine salt, plus more to taste
Instructions
- Heat the oil. Pour the vegetable oil into a large, heavy-bottomed pot with a lid. Heat over medium-high until the oil shimmers but does not smoke.
- Test the heat. Drop two or three popcorn kernels into the pot and cover. When those test kernels pop, the oil is ready.
- Add kernels and sugar. Pour in the remaining popcorn kernels and the sugar all at once. Stir quickly to coat, then immediately place the lid on the pot.
- Shake constantly. Using oven mitts, lift the pot slightly and shake it back and forth over the burner every few seconds to keep the sugar from scorching. The kernels will begin popping vigorously after about two minutes.
- Watch for the finish. When the popping slows to one pop every two to three seconds, remove the pot from the heat. Do not wait for it to go fully silent or the sugar will burn.
- Season and cool. Immediately pour the kettle corn onto a large rimmed baking sheet or into a wide bowl. Sprinkle with salt while it is still hot and toss gently. Spread it out to let it cool and crisp for three to four minutes before serving — the sugar coating hardens as it cools.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 155 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 195mg