Nov 23

That picture right there? My chili looks better than that, but my photography skills are lesser than that, so that’s what you get. And for the record, you don’t put effing guacamole on MY chili!

Now that that’s out of the way – It’s getting to be perfect weather for chili, and I make a pretty damn good one from scratch (more or less). I told Megan I wanted to make it this past weekend, and she thought that sounded like a great idea. Now, being a Food Network junkie and having fallen under their gastronomic spell, I decided to make this one a bit differently. Same basic ingredients, just change up HOW I put it together. Here’s my original recipe:

J’s Chili

2 cans chili beans (in sauce, if you like)

2 cans black beans

2 cans kidney beans

2 cans pinto beans

2 cans diced tomatoes (seasoned, if you like)

1 can (12 oz) V8 Spicy

4 lb chuck roast, trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks

5 T sugar

5 T chili powder

4 T ground Cumin

4 cloves garlic, finely minced or pressed

1 T salt

1 C beef stock

1 green bell pepper, diced

1 red bell pepper, diced

1 white onion, diced

Put everything but the peppers and onion in a 5 quart crock pot. Don’t drain the beans. It should all barely fit. Cook on low for 8 hours. 90 minutes before cook time is through, add the peppers and onions. Tada.

It makes a ton for our little family, so we usually end up eating it for a few days afterwards, and it’s a yummy chili that warms the bones and sticks to the ribs.

Yesterday, I added two ingredients – lime juice and bacon, as well as quite a bit more work, and I omitted the V8. Here’s how I made it:

Put the meat in a 1-Gallon Ziploc bag with the juice from 2 limes, 1 clove of garlic (minced or pressed), and 1 T chili powder. Add ½ cup water for moisture, mix it all around and let marinate at least 6 hours.

You need enough bacon to give you a substantial amount of bacon grease. I prefer thick cut bacon from the local deli, and about a pound should do. Cook it all and reserve the grease. Dice up about 1 cup of the cooked bacon to add to the chili later.

Put all the beans and the tomatoes in a big-ass crock pot or stock pot on low (this makes about 7 quarts, so a 5 quart crock pot just won’t cut it.

When the meat is done marinating, put about half of it into a shallow dish and toss gently with about ½ c of flour. Heat the bacon grease until it’s rippling, then cook all of the meat several pieces at a time, just searing the outside. I found that about 2-3 minutes per side worked well. The goal here is to sear the meat and add a little char, not cook it completely. Add to the chili mixture in the pot, don’t worry about draining excess bacon grease – it’s all good.

Keeping the bacon fat hot, add the peppers and onion, and sauté lightly until the onions are translucent. Add 1 C beef stock to deglaze the pan (which should be good and glazed by this point), then add the whole thing to the chili mixture.

Add the 1C of diced bacon to the chili mixture.

Simmer on low for an hour or two until the meat is tender.

Tada.

Now, I’ll let Megan write her own review of last nights chili. I like the second preparation a lot more. The bacon adds a slight smoky flavor, and sautéing the vegetables and searing the meat adds a nice depth to it. It has a richer flavor, which I really enjoyed. That said, I think I’ll find an alternative to the lime juice, that flavor didn’t blend as well as I would have liked. The truth is, they’re both delicious recipes. You should give ‘em a try. You really can’t screw this one up. OK, you can, but you’d have to be a damn moron, and if you’re reading this, you probably aren’t.

Nov 22

Salt Lake City has a number of excellent dining establishments that are generally not thought of for special occasions. You see, usually if there’s a special occasion, places like Romano’s Macaroni Grill or The Cheesecake Factory are suggested. I can only assume that this is because Utahn’s have no idea how to celebrate a special occasion, or that they really have no clue what a great dining establishment is. Don’t get me wrong, Macaroni Grill and Cheesecake Factory serve some pretty good food, and ambience counts for something as well, but they’re nothing compared to some of the excellent establishments available here. One of the better ones I’ve been to is The New Yorker.

On Friday afternoon, Megan closed on the house – clearly an occasion worth celebrating. I figured if she can buy the house, the least I can do is take her to a nice dinner. She chose The New Yorker, which is located in downtown Salt Lake at 60 West Market Street. Although there’s a large sign that fills the entire side of a building, The New Yorker can be a bit tricky to find if you’re coming from the wrong direction, as it’s in the basement, but don’t let that put you off – once you go down the stairs and step through the doors, you’ve entered an entirely different world of casual, yet refined dining.

Megan and I were greeted warmly by the hostess, who seated us in the cafe section (the booth’s are by reservation only). Although she was a bit disappointed with our seating location, the beautiful stained-glass domes (recovered from the original Hotel Utah) overhead made for a beautiful atmosphere of class and nostalgia. Terry, our server for the evening was knowledgeable and friendly, and suggested a 2007 EccoDomani when I inquired about his selection of Pinot Grigio. It was a perfect compliment throughout the meal, tasting crisp and fruity without any overwhelming sweetness.

For starters, Megan selected the Tuscan salad and I stuck with my old standby of Onion Soup Gratinée. When Terry brought our starters, I was impressed with mine right away. Being somewhat of a connoisseur of french onion soup I’m always eager to find subtle taste differences based on the preparation methods. The broth had a very rich, deep flavor profile which I always enjoy, the broth/onion ration was perfect and the croutons were still crisp in the center as they should be. I would have been completely satisfied with my choice had I not tried a taste of Megan’s Tuscan salad – a mix of Radicchio, Sopresetto, Provolone, Olives, Cherry Peppers, Iceberg Lettuce and a very light oil dressing. It was beyond fabulous! The flavors had a very Mediterranean/Italian feel to them and it was absolutely divine.

We both opted for the Filet Mignon as our entree, although Megan asked for a side of the pumpkin risotto that typically comes with the salmon. I’ll come back to that. I ordered mine rare (not my typical extra-rare, I wanted a bit more sear on it tonight) and Megan’s was a perfect medium-well. The entrees arrived right on time, just after we’d finished our soup and salad. The filet came with a crust of panko and Gorgonzola on top, which added a wonderful texture to the meat and enhanced it’s flavor ever-so-slightly without overwhelming the natural flavor of a perfectly cooked steak. Our entrees were served with mashed potatoes covered in a mushroom jus, which was a perfect and very subtle compliment.

Now, about this pumpkin risotto. I’m not a fan of pumpkin, or squash in general for that matter, but this was absolutely brilliant. Megan swears it was one of the top five best foods she’s ever eaten. The small dices of pumpkin throughout the rich and creamy risotto added a nice texture to the experience overall, and if I enjoyed squash I’m certain I would be in complete agreement with Megan. But I don’t, so I’m not.

During our dinner, Megan let me know that we were getting dessert, regardless of how full we were. Once Terry had presented us with dessert menus, Megan got that cute glimmer in her eye. I knew before she said anything what she wanted. “Yes, let’s get two desserts” I said. Not only can I not argue with that look, I wanted two desserts as well! We chose the Grand Marnier souffle (hey, it’s got liquor in it, and one of my rules about desserts is liquor!) and the pumpkin bread pudding (which, incidentally, had a rum cream sauce) topped with house-made cinnamon ice cream.  Both were a revelation. Understandably, we waited for quite a few minutes for the souffle to be done, but it had a wonderful sweet orange citrus flavor accented by little finely shredded bits of orange peel. Heaven!

If the souffle was a light, airy, orangey heaven, the pumpkin bread pudding was it’s decadent opposite. Served in a pool of the rum cream sauce, it was rich, heavy, moist and phenomenally exquisite. I know, I know – I’m not a fan of squash or pumpkins, but this experience would have made a believer out of anyone! When we were finished with our meal, Terry brought some after-dinner coffee which was the perfect finish to our celebratory meal.

The New Yorker isn’t an economical restaurant, but if you’re celebrating, you may as well go all the way  - there’s simply no excuse for half-assing it at Olive Garden when eateries as wonderful as The New Yorker are here within a 15 minuted rive.