Chock Full of Beef Chuck

Recipe: Chunky Beef Chili

Source: http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/chunky-beef-chili-10000001108275/

Time: 1 hour 45 minutes

Ease: 2

Taste: 9

Leftover Value: 8

Down the Drain or Keep in the Strainer: Keep it in the Strainer!!

I can't remember ever eating chili before I was in my twenties.  Now, don't get shocked, blame my parents, and presume that I was sheltered as a child for never experiencing the wonder that is chili.  By no fault of their own, my parents raised picky eaters.  The type of eaters that complain when they taste something crunchy whether it be onion or lettuce in a stew or on a sandwich.  Some of us remained picky well into our adult years, ahem--Justin, while others managed to venture out and explore the world of all things food related.

This chili is by far the best I have ever eaten.  The star of the recipe, boneless chuck roast, would be enough to win me over, but the real reason I love this chili is this: there are no beans.

 Though I've managed to eat and enjoy foods I never expected to eat, let alone enjoy, somehow beans have not even made it into the category of "foods I am okay with going into my mouth".  When I eat anything with beans, I pick around them or hide them underneath other parts of the meal in hopes that I won't taste them if I end of actually eating them.

I know, I'm strange.  

Back to chili.  If you are a bean lover, you won't even miss them in this chili.  And if you think you will desperately miss them, go ahead and throw them in.  It certainly won't hurt.

Something as beautiful as this doesn't need beans to balance it out.  

The recipe calls for four pounds of boneless beef chuck roast.  I knew that would be an obnoxious amount for me to make for my little family of two, so I cut everything in half.    

There are certain pieces of the roast that when I am cutting it up jump out at me.  They are pieces that I know, without a doubt, will be one of the many, when cooked, that will melt in my mouth.

Here is the most difficult part of the recipe: browning the beef.  Not because browning cubes of beef is difficult.  It's actually rather easy.  The difficult part is resisting popping every single cube into your mouth and completely disregarding any plans for making a real recipe with the meat.

Please tell me that I'm not alone in having this temptation.

After browning the beef, add chili powder, then tomato paste, to the dutch oven.  Make sure that your tomato paste can has an Italian village and a presumably Italian woman on it.  It makes it much more authentic.

Just kidding.

If the store brand is cheaper, go for that.  It's all the same thing after all.

This next picture is horrible, so prepare yourself.  This is the point in the recipe that I was almost certain I had just ruined two pounds of gloriously succulent boneless chuck roast.

It is for your sake I allowed that picture in this post.  To me, it is the most unappetizing picture of all.  Perhaps it is the fault of the photographer, or perhaps it is the fault of this step in the recipe.  

Note to self: chili powder + tomato paste + boneless chuck roast cubed does not equal a pretty picture.

Two cups of beef broth make the drastic difference.

That, and of course, a picturesque bowlful of spices.

Look how much more beautiful that pot looks already!

This chili is chock full of all the good stuff: beef.  Every bite contains a juicy piece of heaven.

Sprinkled with a little cheese, and it's heaven on earth.*

*Note: Sorry for my corniness.**

**Note to the note: I'm not really sorry, because the cheese did make it that much better.

Sometimes I'll make white rice or pull out tortilla chips to go with chili (especially if beans have managed to work their way into it).  This chili seemed like it needed the big guns: cornbread muffins.  They were the perfect addition that balanced out the subtle spicy bite of the chili.  On a cold night, especially like the cold nights we've been recently having, this meal hits the spot.

Down the Drain; It Hurts.

Every now and again a recipe turns out...well, not as desirable as I thought it would be.  I typically rate most recipes as "Keep it in the Strainer", meaning that they were good and worth making again.

Perhaps you've noticed this trend?

I have rated a few as "Down the Drain" but recently I realized I have developed a habit of avoiding writing about the "Down the Drain" recipes that I've made.  I took pictures of them, created files in my picture folder for them, but every time I went to write about a failed recipe I'd look at the pictures and say, "Next time".

Today I've decided to give you an overview of the "Down the Drain" recipes I've been avoiding.  This will get me up to speed and then hopefully I've overcome the fear of writing about them and just do it.

Here we go.

Pioneer Woman's Beef Stew:

This was so not what I was dreaming about when I planned my weekly menu with beef stew on it.  In all honesty, it was a waste of perfectly wonderful beef chuck.  I cried as I ate, thinking of the delicious Hungarian goulash I could have made with that beef chuck instead.

I don't fault Pioneer Woman though.  There is, of course, the possibility that I did something wrong.

But I'm not so sure.

The liquid was far too watery and before serving it, when I realized it wasn't looking the way I thought it should, I seriously considered making my own roux to thicken it up.

Alas, I am one of those cooks who sticks to the recipe the first time through and I just couldn't bring myself to alter it.

"It has to be good!", I told myself.

Oh well.


Next?  We have one of my own creations: Chicken and Broccoli Risotto.

I boiled through a river of chicken broth to experience what making true risotto is like.  In a word it is boring.

In a separate skillet, I made some garlic chicken and reserved it for when the risotto was finished cooking.

I made way way way too much risotto.

The good thing about this one was that it was only bland.  I'm certain you are thinking that is a bad thing, but really it isn't.  I figured out how to cook risotto, so now I know I need to lessen the amount I make and just play with seasonings.

Translation: I'll save this one to try again in the summer when I have nothing better to do with my time.


This next one I wanted to be wonderful so badly.  I think of Meg Ryan standing in the midst of a pastel wonderland of flowers at the end of "You've Got Mail".  The song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" drifts in and she finally finds out that Tom Hanks has been her secret email buddy who she has grown to love.  She says to him, "I wanted it to be you.  I wanted it to be you so badly".

That's the emotions I had towards these Corn Dog Muffins.

The muffin was very much like corn bread, but definitely not like a corn dog.

This is important.

The muffins worked.  But they were not corn dog muffins.  And I was sorely disappointed.

Note: Please don't think I'm picking on Pioneer Woman recipes.  I love her recipes.  Let's face it though, in the midst of a bunch of winners you're bound to find a few losers floating around.


This final recipe is the most shameful, especially because it's all the way from last summer.  That's how long I've been hiding this atrocity from you.

Chocolate Chip Reese's Peanut Butter Cookies

The error that came in this recipe was that I fell susceptible to ridiculous Pinterest pictures.

Note: I do not have a Pinterest account.

Note to the note: I do not have a Pinterest account for the very reason that got me into this Reese's trouble.  I will see pictures of things I want to do and either succeed by following directions and become very very fat, or fail by not following directions and become very very sad.

The moral of this story is:

1. Don't go on Pinterest if you want to stay sane and thin
2. Recognize that making a cookie with a Reese's in the middle requires a lot more than buying the candy bar sized Reese's and plopping them into the center of your favorite cookie recipe.


Now for an encore to this mind blowing post, I'd like to leave you with this picture:

This, at one point in time, was how much sauce I had in my freezer.

Note: There are only two people living in my house.

Note to the note: Don't judge me.