Super Bowl chili done right

Super Bowl. The very name evokes — chili.

Really, come Super Sunday, what would you rather have in your bowl, chili or chicken noodle?

I thought so.

Then let’s get down to it. We won’t quibble about chili’s origins and history. We’ll just stipulate that Mexico lays no claim to this dish, and, with all due respect to our good friends in Cincinnati and other Midwest cities, we will abide no pasta products near the pot.

So let’s — Hey, you! Yes, you know who you are. Step away from those beans. Don’t force me to use a Texas cliche. OK, you asked for it: People who know beans about chili know there ain’t no beans in chili.

If that’s all settled, get out your big pot. Toss that lid back in the cabinet and forget about it, at least until the cooking’s done.

One more thing: I rarely measure anything exactly, so much of what follows are approximations. Use your own taste as a guide, especially when it comes to peppers. With smaller peppers, like jalapeno and serrano, I just remove the stems and chop them, seeds, pith and all.

Now, gather your ingredients for:

R.W.’s SUPER BOWL CHILI

1large onion, diced

6cloves garlic, minced

1/4cup cooking oil of your choice (some hard-arteried purists would render some suet or use lard)

4pounds beef (round, chuck, whatever, but keep it fairly lean), cut in 1/2-inch to 1-inch chunks

1large red bell pepper, diced

3Anaheim peppers, diced

2-4jalapeno peppers, chopped

2-4serrano peppers (or habanero if you want more heat), minced

228-ounce cans diced tomatoes and juice. If you can get about 8 large, ripe fresh tomatoes that actually smell and taste like tomatoes (I find this hard to do this time of year) dice them and use instead

2tablespoons ancho powder

2tablespoons cumin

1tablespoon ground coriander

1tablespoon paprika (smoked if you have it)

1teaspoon each oregano and caraway, worked over a little bit in a mortar or spice grinder

1bottle beer, something with a little body and flavor, but not too hoppy. Dos Equis or Negra Modelo work just fine. Open it and set it out to warm up and flatten out a little.

1-2tablespoons molasses

Salt (I don’t use much, but suit yourself)

OK, slap that pot on the stove, crank the heat to medium-high and pour in the oil. When it’s close to the smoking point, toss it in with the onion and garlic, stirring until they’re a little soft.

Dump in the meat, stirring until it’s all kind of gray, heading toward brown. Now add all the peppers and stir a bit to get it all mixed together. They don’t have to cook too long.

The tomatoes go in next, followed by the spices. Stir and cook for a couple of minutes, then add enough water to cover everything. At this point, cut back the heat to medium-low and let everything simmer for about 30 minutes. Make sure there’s enough liquid to keep it covered.

Finally, you can pour in the beer and add the molasses. Turn that heat down to low, getting it to the point where the concoction is just bubbling. Add water, or more beer if you want, so everything’s well covered.

Now go away and read a book or play your banjo or something. Stop by every now and then to stir and make sure the liquid level hasn’t sunk below the meat level. You’re going to let it simmer for two or three hours before you make any more decisions.

At which point, you’ll ladle a bit of the mixture into a small bowl and let it cool (in the freezer, if you want quick results) down to about body temperature. Taste it. Decide if you want salt, and how much. Want some black pepper? More heat? (You can always add Tabasco sauce.) Add whatever you want and let it simmer for another hour or two (or more). What you want is meat that’s just about falling apart and a concoction so thick it almost oozes off the spoon.

That’s what I call chili.

I know what you’re thinking. “If I take this much time, I’m going to have to get up at dawn and start cooking, if the chili’s going to be ready by kickoff.”

Well, you could, but for best results, make your chili on Saturday, cool it to room temperature, and — remember that lid you tossed back in the cabinet? — cover it up and shove it in the fridge. Believe me, chili is so much better if it’s had a chance to relax for a while.

So, game day, slap it back on the stove at medium-low and let it slowly heat up to eating temperature. Serve with grated Colby or jack (or both) cheese, minced onion, pickled jalapeno slices, tortillas (flour and corn — or chips) and beer. If someone wants wine, the best options are sparkling (such as Spanish cava or Italian prosecco) or perhaps a riesling.

If you think someone wants beans, by all means cook some up or heat up a can and let them help themselves. Just don’t tell me about it.