Cooking With The Marlboro Man

The weather has finally turned cold here.

It's not really cold enough, nor will it last long enough to satisfy me, but it's something. I can snuggle up under my down comforter, light a fire in the fireplace and wear something fleecy without feeling like I'm going to spontaneously combust.

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the bracing chill and celebrate by indulging in hearty things that warm my belly and my soul.

Tonight at my house, North meets South in our evening meal of chili and cornbread. Not that chili is strictly a Northern meal...in fact, probably the opposite is true. But the recipe is a family recipe, and so, I consider it a Northern interpretation.

The story of this chili is nothing truly astounding or touching or fascinating. It's just a story and I like that it has one, even if it's a little...weird.

Back in the seventies, my parents, like most people, were smokers. The cigarette companies, in an attempt to keep their consumers beguiled (because apparently, the profoundly addictive properties of their product weren't enough) made available a wide variety of promotional items that could be obtained by sending in the little paper slips that came in the packages.

Back then, people smoked enough that you could really rake in the goods that way, and my parents were no exception. They also traded them amongst their friends when the items they wanted were brand specific.

Don't judge them, they didn't know any better and either did most other folks of that generation.

Anyway...one thing that my mother sent away for was the Marlboro Chuckwagon Cookbook, though she didn't smoke Marlboros, she was much too couth for that. She smoked Benson and Hedges Gold. How do I remember this? Because of course, I went to the store to buy cigarettes for my parents many times and nobody thought anything of that.

Strangely enough, that thing is now considered a rare and hard to find item and is selling for $145 on Alibris and other rare book sites. I wonder if my Mom still has hers. She liked it so much she bought several and gave them out as gifts.

Don't laugh, it had some really awesome recipes in it, and they are all very simple. (Because they're meant to be cooked over a campfire...duh.)

There was this cake made right in the pan, from left over coffee. I don't remember the exact recipe, but the main ingredients were flour, cocoa and coffee. One mixed the dry ingredients first and then formed a well into which one poured the coffee. A little mixing with a fork and it was ready to pop into the oven. It was simple enough for me to make myself, and it was amazingly moist and delicious.

It is from this same cookbook that our family chili recipe was taken. Most recipes undergo an evolution over time, as they are passed from cook to cook, family to family, but in our family at least, it has remained unchanged. The only variant is the level of spiciness, which can be easily altered to suit the taste of the individual.

Once my mother made two batches because my father liked it HOT HOT HOT! and we children couldn't tolerate it. I remember how we bathed our tongues in milk the first time she made it, desperately trying to cool the burn. And I remember sitting across from one another at the dinner table giggling at how we looked with our tongues lolling out and milk sloshing over the sides of the glass as we laughed.

It's hard to laugh with your tongue hanging out.

Now, it is he with his GERD and his problems on the opposite end who has to have the milder version, and we who savor the delicious bite.

This recipe is called "Wild Card Chili" and I will share it with you, so that you too can feel as if you are cooking with the Marlboro Man, over an open campfire, in a skirt and a corset but no underwear, while your horse grazes contentedly on prairie grass and the whole world is your toilet.

Perhaps, while preparing this meal, you can imagine sharing a moment with this handsome cowboy. He will gaze into your eyes, smile softly, and say, "Them was some fine vittles woman!" and then fart appreciatively.

Hell, I never said the Marlboro man was a charmer. He's a cowboy fer chrissake. He probably bathes like what...once a year when he brings that cattle in?

Wild Card Chili

1 lb. ground beef
1 16 oz. can kidney beans
1 16 oz. can refried beans
1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
1 Cup water
1 Cup chopped onion
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
3 tbs. chili powder
1 tbs. molasses
OPTIONAL: 1 tsp dried chopped hot red peppers

Brown ground beef, drain. Combine all ingredients, simmer for 1-2 hours. You can put this in a crockpot or slowcooker as well.

Obviously, you could embellish this any way you like with any spices that suit your taste. But the simplicity of this recipe is what I like best about it. And I do use the chopped red peppers, but use your best judgement. You can always add them later if you find it's too bland.

Enjoy!