The Heritage Table: A Chili for All Seasons

It was a hot July afternoon when the request came in: “Can we have chili for dinner?”Of course we can. Comfort knows no calendar.

Some meals feel like a wool blanket. Hearty, familiar, slow-simmered with love and ladled into bowls so generously you half expect to see steam hearts floating above them. This chili—layered with tender chuck roast, spiced sausage, smoky ribbons of bacon, three types of beans, and the bold depth of Bountiful Bahia—was built for that kind of moment.

So yes, it’s summer. And yes, we’re having chili. Because comfort food has no season. And chili, as it turns out, has quite the past.

From Molé to Meatpots: Chili's Long Simmer in the Americas

Chili con carne—literally “chili with meat”—has roots deeper than the cast iron pots it simmers in. While Texans often lay claim to its origin story, the dish has been influenced by a broader and more diverse heritage.

Before it was chili, it was molé—an indigenous, spice-rich sauce made by Native peoples of the Americas long before Spanish colonization. These early recipes blended chiles with seeds, herbs, meats, and even chocolate. Later, in what’s now northern Mexico and the Southwestern U.S., these indigenous culinary traditions met Spanish ingredients like pork and beef, creating the earliest versions of what we now recognize as chili.

In the 1800s, “chili queens” served inexpensive bowls of seasoned meat stew in San Antonio’s public plazas. Cowboys carried dried beef and chile peppers on the trail, rehydrating them over open fires. And in 1893, chili made its World’s Fair debut in Chicago, putting its fiery, comforting flavors on the national stage.

The Great Chili Evolution (and the Bean Debate)

By the 20th century, chili had marched into every corner of America’s kitchens—from Depression-era chili mac to school cafeterias and tailgate parties. Each region brought its own twist: Cincinnati chili served over spaghetti, green chile stew in New Mexico, meat-only “Texas Red,” and vegetarian versions packed with beans and spices.

And oh, the bean debate.

Ask a Texan: “Beans? Blasphemy!”Ask a Midwesterner: “Of course—why would you leave them out?”

The truth? Chili, like all great recipes, adapts to the hands that make it. In our kitchen, three kinds of beans (dark red, light red, and white navy) join forces with three kinds of meat to create a deeply satisfying blend. It’s not about choosing sides—it’s about honoring what makes the dish your own.

A Modern Bowl with Old Soul

Our version of chili might raise eyebrows among the purists—but it gets two thumbs up at our dinner table. We build flavor from the bottom up: slowly rendering bacon (but not too much!) to capture its essence, searing rich chunks of chuck roast, browning spiced sausage, then letting everything slow-simmer with broth, tomato, and beans.

The not-so-secret weapon? Bountiful Bahia, our Oak City spice blend inspired by the warmth of Brazil’s Bahia region. With smoky paprika, earthy cumin, sweet brown sugar, and a whisper of cayenne, it brings depth and balance to every bite.

Chili isn’t just a meal—it’s a feeling. And whether it’s a snowy January evening or a sweltering summer night, that feeling is always welcome at our table.

Cookbooks for the Curious

Want to learn more about chili’s place in American food history? Here are a few places to start:

• A Bowl of Red by Frank X. Tolbert – The definitive work on Texas chili lore

• The Chili Cookbook by Robb Walsh – Recipes and deep dives into regional styles

• American Food: A Not-So-Serious History by Rachel Wharton – Light, fun, and full of flavor

The Recipe: Three-Meat, Three-Bean Chili

By Oak City Spice Blends

Servings: 6–8 Prep Time: 20 minutes Cook Time: 2 hours Total Time: 2 hours 20 minutes

Ingredients

• 1 lb chuck roast, trimmed and cut into small cubes

• ½ lb ground sausage (mild or spicy, to your taste)

• 4 slices thick-cut bacon, chopped

• 1 can (15 oz) dark red kidney beans, drained and rinsed

• 1 can (15 oz) light red kidney beans, drained and rinsed

• 1 can (15 oz) white navy beans, drained and rinsed

• 1 can (15 oz) tomato sauce

• 2 Tbsp tomato paste

• 1 cup beef broth

• 2 Tbsp Bountiful Bahia (Oak City Spice Blends)

• Salt to taste, if needed

• Sour Cream and other toppings - optional

Instructions

1. Start with the Bacon - In a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until just partially rendered—you want it to release some fat and start browning, but not get crispy. This helps infuse the chili with a deeper, smokier bacon flavor. Leave the bacon and fat in the pot.

   
   

2. Brown the Meats - Add the chuck roast cubes to the pot with the bacon and sear until browned on all sides, about 5–7 minutes. Push meat to the side and add the sausage. Cook until browned and crumbled. Stir everything together.

   
   

3. Add the Sauce & Beans - Stir in the tomato sauce, tomato paste, beef broth, and all three types of beans.

   
   

4. Season & Simmer - Sprinkle in the Bountiful Bahia seasoning and stir well. Bring everything to a low boil, then reduce heat to a gentle simmer. Cover and simmer for 1.5 to 2 hours, stirring occasionally. Add more broth or water if the chili becomes too thick.

   
   

5. Taste & Serve - Taste and adjust seasoning if needed. Serve hot with your favorite toppings—cornbread, shredded cheese, or a dollop of sour cream all pair beautifully.

Notes from the Spicekeeper’s Cottage

• Letting the bacon cook just enough to release its fat gives this chili a savory richness that builds as it simmers.

• Bountiful Bahia adds layered flavor—smoky, sweet, earthy, and a little heat—making this a one-pot wonder for any season.

• This dish freezes beautifully and only gets better after a day in the fridge.

Whispers from the Past

Some say chili should only be eaten in cold weather. But when the air hums with cicadas and the sun sets slow and heavy, a bowl of chili still comforts like nothing else. It reminds us that tradition is not about rules—it’s about rhythm, and flavor, and love.

So ladle generously. Add the toppings. Pick a side in the bean debate, or don’t. Just be sure to enjoy it.

And if anyone asks why you’re eating chili in July, just smile and say, “Because it’s worth the sweat.”