Chili looks disgusting, riles our stomachs and leaves us feeling
heavy. Yet we love it. Especially in colder months. Lady Bird Johnson said it best
in a letter she wrote to Frank X. Tolbert, author of the chili history "A Bowl of Red":
"My feeling about chili is this. Along in November, when the first
northern strikes, and the skies are gray, along about five o'clock in the afternoon,
I get to thinking how good chili would taste for supper. It always lives up to
expectations. In fact, you don't even mind the cold November winds."
(Of course, eating chili at the White House meant having to keep the windows
open in the Lincoln bedroom that night, but that's a different matter.)
Anyway. It's chili season, and we went looking for the best in the area. We
called the International Chili Society first to ask what our criteria should be.
"Everybody's palate is different, but you want a well-rounded blend of spices that
permeates the meat itself," says the society's executive director, Carol Hancock, herself a world
champion chili cook. "Also, you want a great balanced ratio of sauce to meat, so you have a nice
consistency. We judge on taste, aroma, consistency and appearance."
We've heard about places adding crazy ingredients. Like brown sugar?
"Bleh," says Hancock.
Italian seasoning or smoked meat?
"We wouldn't recommend that."
Lobster?
"Nooo."
What about beans?
"Proper chili does not involve beans."
Well, then. You heard it here. Armed with this knowledge and a bottle of
antacid, we visited five locations in search of the perfect cure for the November blues.
Austin Grill
The Hot Texas Chili here tastes and feels like a good stew, with hearty flavor and cubes of beef chuck eye roast
that absorb the tasty juices, which are infused with olive oil, garlic, cayenne pepper and -- what is that
unidentifiable taste? It's not overpowering, but it's there, giving this chili a distinct flavor beyond its basic ingredients....
Budweiser. Yep, four bottles per five-gallon batch of chili. And you know what? It works. The beer
adds another level of taste beyond the spiciness. Austin Grill's chili is also served with a couple of soft tortillas to use at one's discretion.
$4.99 for a six-ounce cup, $7.50 for a nine-ounce bowl. Nine locations in the District, Maryland and Virginia. http://www.austingrill.com.
Hard Times Cafe
Hard Times' recipe comes from the two founders' grandfather, a trail drive cowboy in
Wichita Falls, Tex., who picked up chili secrets from a wagon cook and eventually opened a chili joint in
Gracemont, Okla. That authentic, ultra-salty, no-tomato Texas chili lives on alongside Hard Times' other
chili variants: Cincinnati (sweet, cinnamony), Terlingua Red (a little kick) and Vegetarian (the spiciest of
them all, with raw jalapeño peppers, soy flakes and peanuts).
While purists may revel in Hard Times' precise recipes, others may find the chili tastes
best when added to other food items. Thank heavens for the restaurant's Chili Dog, Chili Cheddarburger,
Chili Mac (on spaghetti), Chili Bubba (over corn bread), Chili Changa (with tortilla and chips) and
Frito Chili Pie (over Fritos, obviously). Hard Times, understandably, shovels 1,000 to 1,500 pounds of chili into customer's mouths every week.
$6.49 for an eight-ounce bowl. Sixteen locations in the District, Maryland and Virginia. http://www.hardtimes.com.
Stoney's Bar & Grill
The chili at Stoney's seems to be half kidney beans, half ground beef. It's served in a shallow, 10-inch-wide
bowl with a block of house-made corn bread that comes in handy when you want to mop the plate of all evidence
of chili. Stoney's owner Tony Harris came up with the recipe decades ago (the beef is first sauteed with
onions, green peppers and chili powder), and it lives on today. It's perfect for a late-fall lunch
break, though it will make the second half of your workday a bit rumbly.
$3.50 for a "cereal-bowl-sized bowl." $6.50 for twice that size. 1433 P St. NW. 202-234-1818.
Ted's Montana Grill
If you sit at the polished bar here and order a cup of chili, it will be served on a saucer and placed in
front of you on a linen napkin. Media mogul Ted Turner's chain of restaurants serves the area's classiest
concoction, presentation-wise and ingredient-wise. Underneath the shards of grated cheese, diced jalapeño
pepper and chunks of onion isn't ground chuck -- it's bison meat, a chewier alternative that tastes both
heartier and subtler. Turner owns the most bison of anyone in the country, and Karen's "Flying D" bison
chili is named after Karen Averitt, the house manager at his Flying D Ranch in Montana.
$3.99 for a 4 1/2 -ounce cup, $4.99 for a 10-ounce bowl. Four locations in Virginia: Alexandria,
Arlington (Ballston and Crystal City) and Sterling. http://www.tedsmontanagrill.com.
Urban Burger Company
The place kind of looks like a high school cafeteria, and the Two Alarm Chili kind of looks like sloppy
Joe meat. But the environment is perfect for getting in and out on a lunch break, and the chili's taste
is sophisticated (smoked chopped brisket is a key ingredient). "Working at a barbecue place first, you learn
to not waste the ends and pieces when you slice your brisket," explains Urban Burger owner Dave Calkins.
The chili is topped with a sprinkle of green onions, grated cheese and a dollop of sour
cream that allows you to ease into the bowl. Expect a delayed kick from the chipotle pepper, which will
warm the roof of your mouth. Also available is the Redneck Fondue, a small dish of chili soaked in
three-cheese sauce and served with spiced tortilla crisps.
$4 for a 16-ounce bowl, $5 for the Redneck Fondue. 5566 Norbeck Rd., Rockville. 301-460-0050. http://www.urbanburgerco.com.