Posted on 02/25/2003 10:55:10 AM PST by aculeus
NOT too long ago, I was seized by a craving.
I was in the mood to return to the kind of food that's bad for you but so good, that tugs at memory but sounds disgusting to the uninitiated.
Because I grew up in Texas, I am speaking, of course, of Frito pie, a dish only a Southwesterner could really love. If I had grown up in Pennsylvania, I might be talking about scrapple; Minnesota, lutefish. And other Texans might crave chicken-fried steak or the spicy Mexican beef tripe soup called menudo. I am struck by yearnings for those things from time to time, but this craving was for Frito pie, the high point of elementary school lunches and high school football games and political rallies.
I asked my mom to send me the fixings, and she sent six cans of Wolf Brand Chili. The Wolf Brand is essential. I make a pretty good bowl of chili myself, but Frito pie doesn't taste right to me without the can of red from Corsicana, Tex., with its 108-year-old recipe and folksy advertisements that were part of my TV upbringing.
I can always tell a Texan — not by the accent, or by the attitude, or even by whether they wear a cowboy hat or boots (oh, grow up). All I have to do is ask the question from the Wolf Brand commercial, with the proper over-excited growl-like drawl: "Neighbor?! How long has it been since you've had a Big! Thick! Steamin' bowl o' Wolf Brand Chili?"
Texans will immediately deliver the tag line: "Well, that's too long!"
Frito pie is not unknown in the North — the Cowgirl Hall of Fame restaurant in Greenwich Village serves a decent version of the dish. But I wanted to make it myself, since it is one of the few recipes that is fully within my set of kitchen skills:
1) Take bag of Fritos. Slice lengthwise. 2) Pour in a cup of hot chili. 3) Add cheese. Velveeta is fine. And onions and jalapeños, if you like. 4) Eat it before it congeals.
I tried to share the love with my children. Two, Elizabeth and Joe, are a little finicky, and Elizabeth has been calling herself a vegetarian lately. But Sam, my enthusiastic gourmand, loved it. We decided that the chili might taste really good on top of one of Elizabeth's Boca Burgers. We were right. It seems to add some kind of missing ingredient.
I realized that other Texpatriates might be feeling the same nostalgia, and packed up a few cans, with bags of Fritos, and sent them off to my wife's Cousin Jim, who is in Kuwait with the troops. "Aw gee! You shouldn't have!" he wrote back in an e-mail message. "Why bless your little white trash hearts, this is a present I will cherish for a long, long time (thank God for Tums)."
But satisfying a long-suppressed desire has a price. You don't want to read the Wolf Brand nutrition label, which told me that after finishing off the can, I had ingested two days' worth of sodium. We just aren't going to talk about the fat and cholesterol. And that doesn't count the sodium, fat and cholesterol in the Fritos. Or the, um, cheese.
A day or so later, I sent my latest blood pressure reading to my doctor via e-mail — part of our attempt to wean me from blood-pressure medications. It's been going well, but that night I reported a definite spike.
"Numbers seem to be creeping back up," he wrote to me the next day. "Have you been doing anything different lately?"
I said in response that I had not been getting as much exercise and sleep as I should have, and added, "I don't know if it makes a difference, but I went on a salty food binge a few days ago." I described the chili orgy. "I've been eating more normally since them," I wrote.
Within a few days, in fact, my numbers were looking good again. I sat down to write about the nostalgic ritual of making just the right food, even if it is, in many ways, wrong.
I sit here writing, and looking up Wolf Brand on the Web. (Hey, Mom — I can order it directly from www.wolfbrandchili.com!) It is getting toward midnight. The craving is back. I push the cat off my lap and go to the kitchen and open one of the cans. There is half a bag of Fritos on top of the fridge, left over from my last spree. I put half of the can's chili in the microwave and then dump it on the Fritos in a bowl, and top it all with cheese. No time to chop onions in this hour of urgent need. The nuked chili blasts the top of my mouth; no matter. I eat lustily, the rich greasiness of the Wolf Brand and the crunch of corn chips blend against all odds, against all sense, into something wonderful.
I return to my easy chair. There are chili spatters on my shirt among the cat hair. I am happy. Sorry, Dr. Pelzman. I'll be good tomorrow.
Let Proust have his dainty little madeleine. This is real eating. You can hardly move after you've had a serving, and how more real does it get than that?
bttt ...
Yes, homemade is much preferred, but......for those unable to make their own.....well, Wolf's is the best........
I would hope that you are gonna tell me your recipe.
Speaking of chili cookoffs, here are some notes regarding a chili cookoff at the State Fair from an out of town judge. It just goes to show that Texans are very serious about our chili. Well, I'll let you read the rest:
These are notes from an inexperienced chili taster named Bill, who was visiting Texas from New Jersey...
"Recently I was lucky enough to be the 10,000th attendee at the State Fair of Texas and was asked to fill in to be a judge at a chili cook-off. Apparently the original Judge #3 called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that it would be a fun event and a true taste of Texas hospitality. They assured me that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy, and besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted. Here are the scorecards from the event."
Chili #1: Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing!
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
BILL: Holy crap. What the heck is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili #2: Arthur's Afterburner Chili
JUDGE ONE: Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
BILL: Keep this out of reach of children! I am not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to walkie-talkie in three extra beers when they saw the look on my face.
Chili #3: Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.
JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
BILL: Call the EPA, I have located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Barmaid pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest...I am getting plastered!
Chili #4: Bubba's Black Magic
JUDGE ONE: Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods. Not much of a chili.
BILL: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally, the bar maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills.
Chili #5: Linda's Legal Lip Remover
JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit, the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
BILL: My ears are ringing, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me burst into flames. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Forget these rednecks!
Chili #6: Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety
JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.
JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
BILL: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I may need to sit on an ice block for several weeks after this.
Chili #7: Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili
JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
BILL: You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a darn thing. I've lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. At least during the autopsy they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing. It's just too painful. Screw it. I am not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
Chili #8: Helen's Mount Saint Chili
JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending...this is a nice blend chili, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good, balance chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 passed out, fell and pulled the chili pot on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor Yank.
BILL: (editor's note: Judge #3 was unable to report)
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