Winter has always been an ideal time for making a big pot of chili. Full of spices and served hot, it's the perfect anecdote to a chilly day. It's also the ultimate dish for a large group, whether you're having a big family dinner or a Super Bowl party.

I used to think chili had to have meat in it to be interesting. I figured the slow roasted beef in my recipe provided the stew's deep and substantial flavors. So I was surprised to find that a vegetarian chili I recently made had its own robust complexity that was just as satisfying. And, unlike meat chili, the vegetarian variety only took an hour to prepare and cost less than $10 to make for a family of four.

Now I do love my meat chili, but because it uses beef chuck, it takes hours to braise, so making it is a bit of an event. Three-bean chili, on the other hand, takes little more time than preparing a standard weekday dinner if you use canned beans. And, if you want something really special you can start your preparations the night before and boil up a batch of dried beans.

Preparing vegetarian chili is a bit like planting a flower garden. You want it colorful and lush without being overbearing. Using a variety of chilies, from fresh to canned, dried and powdered, is the key to achieving something that is smoky and deep with just the right amount of heat. And while some recipes I've seen out there call for a hodgepodge of vegetables, I try to avoid making my chili look like a version of vegetables on parade. Instead I like to partner my beans and the various chilies with other ingredients that will accent their flavors, like beer, coffee, corn and Mexican chocolate. Simmered together everything coalesces into a rich and hearty whole.

So whether you're making a weeknight family dinner, or in need of a dish that will satisfy a crowd, it's a good time to enjoy a pot of chili.

Three-Bean Vegetarian Chili

Makes: Enough for 5-6 people (can easily be doubled)

Ingredients:
1 Tbsp vegetable or corn oil
3 cans or 6 cups homemade cooked beans (pinto, kidney, black or some of each)
1 large onion chopped
2 Anaheim peppers chopped
1 small or a ½ large jalapeno pepper
1 carrot diced
2 medium or one large bell pepper (I use red or orange but green is also fine)
½ can tomato paste
1 15 oz can diced tomatoes
1 cup medium-body beer (I like Negro Modelo)
½ cup brewed coffee
2 Tbsp chili powder (mild or Chipotle)
1 Tbsp ground cumin
½ tsp dried and ground coriander seed
2 Tbsp dried Mexican or regular oregano (crushed between your hands)
1 tsp salt
1-2 chilis from a can chipotle chiles in adobo sauce (depending on how spicy you want your chili)
1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernals
2 Tbsp masa harina or finely ground corn meal (optional)
2 tsp grated Mexican chocolate or cocoa powder (optional)

Note: you can just freeze the chipotle chilies you don't use

Possible Toppings
Sour cream
Diced white or spring onions
Grated cheese
Crumbled corn chips
Olives
Corn nuts

Preparation:

1. Heat a large heavy pot (I like to use a cast-iron Dutch oven) on medium high heat. When the pot is heated, add in 1 Tbsp oil and then add in your chopped onion, jalapeno, carrot, and Anaheim peppers. Sauté for 5-7 minutes or until onions are translucent.

2. Mix in the tomato paste along with the chili powder, cumin, ground coriander, salt and oregano. Let cook on medium heat for 2-3 minutes.

3. Add in the beer, diced tomatoes and chopped bell pepper. Stir and then mix in the beans, coffee and chipotle chili in adobo sauce.

4. Bring the chili to a soft boil and then cover and set the burner to simmer. Cook for at least 45 minutes to one hour, stirring every so often to make sure the chili doesn't burn on the bottom of the pot.

5. Once all the flavors have melded, stir in the chocolate, corn and masa harina.

6. If the chili seems too soupy, or if it's a little too spicy, add another tablespoon of masa harina. Mix in thoroughly.

7. Simmer for another 10 minutes and then serve with your favorite toppings and cornbread.

I used to think chili was a mishmash of ground meat, powdered spices, and chopped bell peppers. This is, after all, how everyone made it when I was growing up. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized chili is really a stew. Historically, it's more like Beef Bourguignon than a sloppy joe in that it's made of chunks of meat, vegetables, and a simmering liquid. Sure, the vegetables are chilies, but the core starting point -- slowly braised hunks of meat -- are what make chile and other stews not only similar, but appealing in the first place.

There are many different types of chili and everyone seems to have a favorite. My Texas friends, for instance, say that the whole point of chili is to meld together the smoky taste of dried chilies with slow-cooked meat and that tomatoes and beans have no place in the pot. Others that I know (usually health-conscious people from my home region of Southern California) claim that using beef is too fattening and so they make their chilies with turkey and beans (I try to avoid those dinners). Some people use only whole chiles, while others use only chile powders. Many use fresh peppers while others swear by dried and smoked. And then, of course, there are vegetarian chilies. The variations are limitless. Now I am in no way a Texan, but there's no denying the fact that chili is a Southwestern dish (and that Texas chili is delicious), so I tend to gravitate toward their style more than any other.

So how do you make a great pot of meat chili? Let's break the process down into easy categories:

Meat
Because it's a stew, the most important ingredient in this dish is the meat. When I make my chili, the meat is the star. I like to use 3/4 beef chuck (cut into pieces, not ground) along with 1/4 pork butt. Using only beef is fine, but I find that the subtle addition of a little pork fat intensifies the meat flavors nicely. Another option is to fry up some bacon and then use the bacon fat to cook the beef. But whatever you use, just be sure not to use lean cuts of meat. Let's face it, chili isn't a diet dish and you really do need some fat to give everything the rich flavor you expect. No turkey!

Chiles
There is a world of chiles out there to explore. Co-starring in my own culinary tale are 6 different types of chile peppers, both dried and fresh varieties. While fresh pasillas, Anaheims, serranos, and jalapenos impart a verdant heat, dried anchos and chipotles in adobo add a rich undercurrent of picante smokiness. You can also experiment with a variety of other dried and fresh chiles. Have fun with this. If you go to the right market, you'll find a world of beautiful chiles out there. And don’t worry if you're not a lover of spicy dishes. There are plenty of mild peppers out there worth exploring.

A note on using dried chiles: Now I realize that using real dried chiles can seem intimidating. For years I stared at dried chiles stacked in Mexican grocery stores or in cellophane bags at my regular market, but was afraid to use them. They seemed mysterious and indecipherable, so I stuck with only powdered chiles. Yet once I realized that you just need to heat them in a dry pan and then soak in some water before pureeing, I mustered up the courage to give them a try. Other than being a little embarrassed to find they were so easy to work with, my maiden voyage using dried peppers was uneventful and I've never looked back.

Tomatoes and Beans (To use or not to use…)
So how about those controversial tomatoes and beans? If you're a purist or a true blooded Texan who wants all meat, then by all means skip these in your chili. That said, before making any major decisions, consider that both add great flavor and texture to the dish. I like to first cook up a batch of dried beans, leaving them al dente so they finish cooking in the chili itself. This allows the beans to soak up the flavors of the stew as they finish cooking. The tomatoes then provide a little sweetness to counterbalance the heat and smoky flavors of the chiles. For me, beans and tomatoes add so much flavor and texture that I can't imagine my chili without them. But the beauty of making your own pot of chili is that you get to decide what you like and don't like, so add them if you want.

Liquids
Whether you add beans and tomatoes or just use meat and chiles, you will need some sort of liquid so you can simmer everything. As far as I'm concerned, a mixture of both beer and brewed coffee is essential. Beer's yeast and hops introduce a robust full-bodied taste that joins the rest of the stews flavors nicely, while the coffee provides an undertone that accents the overarching spices in a way that vanilla makes chocolate taste more profound.

Other stuff
And, speaking of chocolate, a whisper of cocoa powder or Mexican chocolate, added at the end, helps mellow and fuse the chili's flavors. I also like to add in some masa harina (finely ground corn used to make tortillas) or just some ground corn meal to thicken things up if the chile is too soupy. You can also add other ingredients, like fresh corn, if you'd like.

Time
Making chili is an all-day affair because the ingredients need time to mature and come together. I let everything simmer for 4-5 hours on the stove. If you want, I'm sure you can use a crock pot, although I've never done this myself. Whatever you do, don't hurry the process because you need all those flavors to mature and come together, and only time can do this.

So that's how you make chili. As with many other dishes, the keys to making a great meal are simply a little patience, along with some quality ingredients -- in this case a variety of chiles and stew-sized chunks of meat. If you follow these guidelines, you'll have your own hearty and smoky pot of chili to be proud of.

Chili

Makes: One large pot of chili

Ingredients:
3 lbs beef chuck cut into 1/4-inch pieces
1 lb pork butt cut into 1/4-inch pieces
2 Tbsp chile powder (I like chile molido, but any mild chile powder is fine)
1 Tbsp cumin
1 tsp salt
3-4 dried ancho chiles (depending on size)
Corn or vegetable oil for sautéing
2/3 of a 7 oz can chipotle chiles in adobo sauce (use 1 full can if you want the dish extra smoky and spicy)
1 large onion chopped
2 cloves garlic minced
1/2 serrano pepper seeded and minced (use the whole pepper if you like your chili spicy)
1 jalapeño seeded and minced
2 pasilla peppers seeded and chopped small
2 Anaheim peppers seeded and chopped small
1 Tbsp ground cumin (freshly toasted seeds ground at home are best but preground is fine)
1/2 tsp all spice
1 tsp dried ground coriander
1/2 - 1 bottle beer
1 cup coffee
1 15 oz can diced tomatoes or 2 cups freshly chopped tomatoes (no seeds)
2 cups freshly cooked beans (kidney, navy, black or pinto are fine)
1/4 cup masa harina or finely ground corn meal (optional)
1 heaping Tbsp cocoa or 1/4 round grated Mexican chocolate

Preparation:

1. The night before you plan on making your chili, chop up your meat and season with the 2 Tbsp chile powder, 1 Tbsp cumin, and 1 tsp salt. Rub the seasoning all over the meat. Set in the refrigerator overnight.
2. In a dry pan (I like to use a medium cast iron pan) heat your ancho chiles on high, turning every 30 seconds or so until the peppers are warmed through and hot. Add enough water to cover the peppers and then cover the pan and let sit for 30 minutes. Drain pan of water and then puree the peppers in a blender or chopper. Set aside. (If you do this the night before, be sure to refrigerate the puree).
3. Heat a large heavy pot (I like to use a cast-iron dutch oven) on medium high heat. When the pot is hot, add in 1 Tbsp oil and then add in enough meat to mostly cover, but not crowd, the pan. Sear meat on all sides and then remove from pan. Repeat (adding in more oil if necessary) until all the meat is browned. Remove all meat from the pan.
4. Add a little more oil to the pan and then sauté your onions and garlic for a few minutes. Add in the chopped peppers (serranos, jalapeno, pasilla and Anaheim) and cook for 2-3 minutes.
5. Add the meat back into the pan (with the vegetables) and then mix in the pureed anchos, chipotles, tomatoes, cooked beans, cumin, all spice, coriander, beer and coffee. You should have enough liquid to just barely cover the meat, but not so much that the meat is swimming in liquid. Add the other 1/2 of the beer if it looks like you need more liquid.
6. Bring the chili to a soft boil and then cover and set the burner to simmer. Stir at least once an hour, more often if your pan has a thin bottom so you don't burn the stew. Let the mixture simmer for 4-5 hours. Add in some salt after a couple of hours as needed.
7. Once all the flavors have melded, add in the chocolate and stir in.
8. If the chili seems too soupy, or if it's a little too spicy, add in 1/4 cup masa harina or finely ground corn meal that has been mixed with a little water or beer to make a slurry. Mix in thoroughly.
9. Serve with corn bread and whatever sides sound good.

Possible chili sides

Cotija, cheddar or Jack cheese
Corn chips
Corn tortillas
Corn nuts
Black or green olives
Green onions
White chopped onions
Sour cream
Fritos
Cilantro
Avocado
Sliced jalapenos
You favorite hot sauce

Stirring the massive pot

2 pounds of bacon, 4 pounds of sausage, 6 pounds of ground beef...and that's only the beginning.

This recipe may seem excessive, but by the time this massive pot of chili is done cooking, and certainly by the time you've gone through the last of it, you always want just a little bit more.

It really is that good. It's not like some chili which sits in your stomach like a ton of bricks. It's not too beany, or too spicy, or too smoky. It's complex, with a sweet savory tang, and layers of meaty flavor throughout. For me, it's the sweetness that makes this chili special. A multi-dimensional sweetness derived from a number of ingredients: carrots (grated so that they melt into the sauce), ketchup, barbecue sauce, sugar, and baker's chocolate.

That's Secret #1.

Secret #2 is adding a parmesan rind to the pot. This is an old Italian trick I learned for creating rich soups, stocks, tomato sauce, or...chili! Remember it next time you finish off an expensive wedge of parmigiano. After you're done digging away at all the edible parts, pop the rind in a freezer bag and save it for a rainy (or shall I say chili, ha ha ha) day.

Secret #3: let it simmer for a long long time. This is one of those dishes that tastes better the next day, or the day after that. I kid you not, I let this simmer for 6 hours or more. I will usually make it late afternoon on a weekend, let it cook all evening, and then turn off the flame and cover it right before going to bed. The next day, the flavors will have melded together into something amazing.

There may be a few lingering doubts in your mind about why not to make this recipe. One being the long list of ingredients, to which I say, okay, there are a lot of ingredients, and yes, you will need to make a Costco run, but after that it's really easy. You basically just add everything to a big pot and leave it alone. Fool proof. And worth it.

The other question may concern the alarming quantity this recipe makes. Feeds 20+. Yes, it does! But really, you'll be surprised at how quickly this goes, and I mean, if you're going to make all that effort in getting the ingredients, you might as well go the whole nine yards. If you're still on the fence, consider these scenarios where a massive pot of chili makes perfect sense:

• Game Day with lots of men to feed. Isn't the Super Bowl coming up or something?
• Ski weekend. This is the perfect make-ahead meal. All you have to do is heat it up on the stove, which is the maximum effort I usually have in me after a day on the slopes, when my quads have turned to lead.
• Any weekend. Especially when it is relentlessly rainy and cold outside. (You may know what I mean). Extra bonus, this recipe freezes really well. Store away single/double servings of this and have a warm, satisfying, homemade meal ready in minutes any time.

Now that you're ready for chili, the next challenge is to find a pot that is sufficiently massive. You're on your own for that one. Alright, I'll give you a hint: I scored mine off of Craigslist from a restaurant going out of business. For something this size, go commercial.

Chili with Cheese Quesadillas

Massive Pot of Chili

Serves: 20+

Adapted from Steve Conn and Colerain Firefighters Local 3915's "Major Cojone's Chili." I guess it makes sense that the original recipe would come from a fire house :) I doubled the Major's recipe, made some tweaks to the heat source, and added some sweet secret ingredients.

Ingredients:
2 pounds applewood-smoked bacon, diced into 1 inch squares
4 pounds spicy Italian pork sausage, removed from casings
6 pounds ground beef
1 jalapeno pepper, finely chopped
3 red bell peppers, chopped
4 large onions, finely chopped
3 carrots, grated
8 cloves garlic, finely chopped
4 cans (28 oz) chili beans
6 lb 10 oz Costco-sized can crushed tomatoes
6 lb 10 oz Costco-sized can tomato sauce
2 cups ketchup
2 cups sugar
2 cups water
½ cup BBQ sauce
¼ cup Worcestershire sauce
4 tablespoons red chili powder
2 tablespoons Sriracha chili sauce
2 ounces baker's chocolate
1 parmesan rind

Preparation:
1. In a large pan, cook bacon until crispy; drain and add to a 3-gallon pot.

2. Drain off the bacon grease. Brown the sausage in the same pan; drain and add to the pot.

3. Drain off the fat from the pan again. Brown the ground beef; drain and add to the pot with the other meats.

4. Add all of the remaining ingredients and bring to a bubble, stirring periodically. Then, lower heat and simmer on low for at least 6 hours.

5. Serve with chili toppings of you'd like (shredded cheese, sour cream, green onion or chives), Frito scoops, quesadillas, or bread bowl.

Along with 4 million other people in Washington, I'm trying to figure out how to keep warm and dry while waiting (and waiting…) to witness history in the making. Fuzzy boots and mittens with hand warmers and puffy rain pants are my own fashion statement for this inaugural ceremony. And while the 44th POTUS settles into his luncheon, enjoying "A Brace of American Birds" beneath a painting of Yosemite Valley, I'll be making my way very very very slowly back up to Tenleytown...to a crock pot full of warming chili.

No, I'm not following Obama's recipe. Our very own North Coast Journal up in Humboldt County got a hold of that one back while he was still campaigning. Truth be told, it's a bit bland for me (thank goodness kitchen skills have nothing to do with diplomacy and fiscal policy), but since his presidency promises change and diversity, it seems fitting that his chili recipe calls for beans and tomatoes and green pepper, an unholy trinity for any Texan devotee of chile con carne. The 44th POTUS even serves it on a bed of rice. If you've spent any time in the Lone Star State, then you know that all of those are verboten.

His predecessor's recipe is still secret, though like other Red-State, Tex-Mex lovers, Dubya swears by Gebhardt's chile powder, conveniently available in 3-ounce or 5-gallon containers. Serious chili cooks will, of course, make their own from dried chiles, toasted cumin seeds, Mexican oregano and garlic powder.

Here in California, at the more lucrative end of the wagon train routes, we became known for carne con chile, not chile con carne. Ana Begue de Packman, a descendant of the state's first colonists and author of Early California Hospitality: The Cookery Customs of Spanish California (Arthur Clark Company, 1938) included a recipe for carne con chile with the note that "it is insisted by the Californians that the meat be given the place of honor." Her version, while avoiding tomatoes and beans, included breadcrumbs for thickening and a handful of the local black olives.

Modern experts, such as Hal John Wimberly, the editor of the Goat Gap Gazette, a monthly that covers all things BBQ and chile, is astounded by West Coast cooks. "Californians put funny things into their chili. Green peppers. Celery. All kinds of garbage." Don't even get him started on the tofu or dried mushrooms.

The Mexicans have disowned the dish entirely. The 1959 edition of the Diccionario de Mejicanismos defines chili con carne as "detestable food passing itself off as Mexican, sold in the United States from Texas to New York." Since cows arrived in Mexico with the conquistadors, we can safely assume that beef was not in the original recipe south of the border. Cornmeal and beans, however, are components of nourishing stews prepared by the original Americans. That some chili recipes include these ingredients, along with the ever-present chiles, seems only natural in a place where borders were frequently shifting.

Chili stand in Haymarket Plaza, San Antonio, c. 1902. (From the Institute of Texan Cultures, UTSA)

Fortunately for my taste buds, purism has no place in my kitchen. I'm not averse to using ground meat instead of cubed, or -- double sin! -- shredding tofu skins to mimic ground meat. I've also been known to tilt a can or two of tomatoes and beans into my pot. And despite admonitions against overpowering the meat, I love doubling garlic and chiles, if not cumin and oregano. One of these days, I'll brave a plate of five-way Cincinnati chili, with its layering of spaghetti noodles and oyster crackers. I'm one of those well meaning, curious cooks despised by Texans. If expanding flavor beyond the confines of a county jail counts as sacrilege, then, well, I always was comfortable with being a heathen.

Since the twisting paths of history are more interesting to me than any straight-laced doctrine, I'd like to point you to two recipes from the past. One comes from San Antonio, which has a good claim as the place of birth of chile con carne. The second recipe emerged from the kitchen of an early Californian.

In the 1800s, Mexican women set up chili stands at night in the main plazas of San Antonio, Texas. They become known and loved as the Chili Queens. The city's commissioner, Frank Bushick, wrote in 1927 that the" chili stand and chili queens are peculiarities, or unique institutions, of the Alamo City. They started away back there when the Spanish army camped on the plaza. They were started to feed the soldiers. Every class of people in every station of life patronized them in the old days. Some were attracted by the novelty of it, some by the cheapness. A big plate of chili and beans, with a tortilla on the side, cost a dime. A Mexican bootblack and a silk-hatted tourist would line up and eat side by side, [each] unconscious or oblivious of the other."

Mrs. Luce M. Trevino, 89, holds a 125-year old pot that she donated to the scrap metal pile during World War II. The pot was used by her mother for simmering chili in the first Mexican restaurant in San Antonio. (From the Institute of Texan Cultures, UTSA)

Original San Antonio Chili

This recipe comes from the Institute of Texan Cultures at the University of Texas San Antonio, where beans are barred from the chili pot.

2 pounds beef shoulder, cut into ½-inch cubes
1 pound pork shoulder, cut into ½-inch cubes
¼ cup suet
¼ cup pork fat
3 medium-sized onions, chopped
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 quart water
4 ancho chiles
1 serrano chile
6 dried red chiles
1 tablespoon cumin seeds, freshly ground
2 tablespoons Mexican oregano
Salt to taste

Place lightly floured beef and pork cubes in with suet and pork fat in heavy chili pot and cook quickly, stirring often. Add onions and garlic and cook until they are tender and limp. Add water to mixture and simmer slowly while preparing chiles. Remove stems and seeds from chiles and chop very finely. Grind chiles in molcajete and add oregano with salt to mixture. Simmer another 2 hours. Remove suet casing and skim off some fat. Never cook frijoles with chiles and meat. Serve as separate dish.

Carne con Chile Sepulveda

This recipe comes from Ana Begue de Packman's historic cookbook, Early California Hospitality: The Cookery Customs of Spanish California. She offers a good tip for cooking with beef fat, essential for achieving the unctuous texture and rich flavor of the old versions of chili. As the name of the dish says, it's about the meat. There's no distraction of cumin or oregano even. If you side with Obama on the olive oil question, then be prepared for a thinner texture or else add a more breadcrumbs or dredge your meat in flour. And if you side with me on the point of tenderness, keep simmering the meat gently for a couple of hours. (Adapted by Mark Preston in California Mission Cookery.)

2 pounds beef chuck
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fat from the chuck

Sauce:
4 ounces dry red chiles
2 tablespoons fat from the chuck
2 tablespoons breadcrumbs, toasted
1 clove garlic, mashed in salt
1 tablespoon vinegar
1 cup black olives

Cut the meat in chunks, removing as much fat and gristle as possible. Brown a little of the fat to render it, to grease the skillet. Use no fat if the meat is fatty already. Add the chunks of beef and season with the salt and pepper. Brown it well and set aside.

Stem and seed the chilies. Wipe them clean. Put them in a stew kettle and pour boiling water over them. Cook until the skin easily separates from the chile meat. Rub the chile-meat through a sieve. This should make about 1 1/2 pints of red chile puree.

Heat enough of the fat to render 2 tablespoons in an iron skillet. Add the toasted breadcrumbs and the garlic, mashed in salt. Stir constantly until a light golden color. Pour in the chile puree, garlic and vinegar. Simmer 15 minutes. Add the meat. Cook 10 minutes longer. Serve, garnishing with ripe olives.