Frito Pie with Chili

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I Know — But When You Want It, You Want It 

We all crave foods that are bad for us or that we’re embarrassed to admit we like — often both. They’re our guilty pleasures. We visited the concept a few months back in our Cheddar Cheese Chicken Curry post.

You’ve got your own list, I’m sure. It might include Tuna Noodle Casserole (with corn-flake topping!) or fake Mexican “queso” dip (made with Velveeta!) or Jell-O Mold (with marshmallows!).

Me? At this time of year, I hear the siren song of one of my favorite guilty pleasures, Frito Pie.

It’s decadent and delicious — and I can’t resist it. I’ll bet you can’t, either.

Vegetarian Chili

I lived for a spell in Texas.   There I learned the canonical Texas chili liturgy.

The dish contains chilies, obviously, and in quantity.  Probably onions and garlic (though some purists insist that spices can include only cumin, coriander, and oregano).   Salt and pepper.  Maybe tomato, in moderation (we’re not making stew here). 

Definitely no beans.  Unless you feel like it, of course.  You’re a Texan, dagnab, so you have the God-given right to eat your food how you like, even though your curious bean hankering may make you a social pariah.  If you persist in this peculiar craving, kidney beans are the best choice (preferably dark red).  Pintos will work too.

And meat.  Always meat.  Coarse ground or hand cut into ½ inch cubes.  Beef is typical.  But there’s also pork, goat, venison, buffalo.  You name it, it almost certainly has been made into chili. 

That’s it.  No additions.

Vegetarian chili?  Perish the thought.  It might be a tasty dish, but to call it chili would be nothing short of blasphemy.

Well, as Huck Finn said, “All right then, I’ll go to hell!”  Because vegetarian chili, done right, is excellent — and much less heavy than the meat version.