tomato_kumato

I’m not terribly impressed with the picture… but there was no way I couldn’t blog about this. This is the chili to end all chilis. I don’t know if I’ll ever need to make another chili again. Well… scratch that. I know I want to make another chili, but I don’t think the Canadian would stand for it. When I made this for him last week, he turned to me and said: “I think this is the best chili I’ve ever had.” He claimed he wasn’t even hungry before I brought it out, but he ended up having two servings that night and finishing the leftovers the following afternoon. Are you ready for it yet?

As usual, the original recipe for Beef and Dark Beer Chili, which I found on epicurious, needed some tweaking. Funnily enough, Jen over at Life’s Too Short to Eat Fat Free Cheese had tried the recipe just a day before I had intended to. I was a little worried, because she didn’t seem impressed, but I went along with my plan, changing the following aspects of the recipe:

1. I used double the jalapeño, but no chipotle chili.

2. I doubled the tomatoes asked for in the recipe, and I used whole canned tomatoes with juice.

3. I added a few tablespoons of tomato paste.

4. I added a lot more beer (Guinness)… about double.

5. Instead of sautéing the veggies in olive oil, I just drained most of the beef fat and fried them in that.

The end result was a lot saucier than the recipe called for, and it was quite spicy, but I served it with sour cream and grated cheese. My policy for chili making is to taste as I go… I cooked this chili for almost two hours, and I checked it every time I stirred, adding more spice and liquid as I saw fit. In the end, it paid off, and the Canadian loved it.

To continue our tour of the world’s beer, we shall discuss Amstel. On the Amstel. Yes, I said it. I drank Amstel beer sitting only feet away from the Amstel river in Amsterdam. Jealous? You should be. You should also be jealous of the wowholycrap LITER of beer that I drank. Examine the proof as you compare the size of the glass to the size of my friend Katie’s head.

We were even given straws to expedite the process.

No, but seriously, this is a good beer. Very different from it’s cousin Guinness, the stout, Amstel is a lager, or light beer (no… not light like Coors Light, the bane of my American existence). Amstel is light in color, but not in flavor. The Amstel served in Amsterdam, as I assume is true with all exported beers, is different from the one we get in cans in the States, and even from the one served on draught in pubs in France. The best description I can give is sharper. Amstel from Amsterdam really hits you in the face, as much as a beer can (with the exception of high percentage beers like Delirium and Bavaria. 8.6% alcohol. Wow.)

I know that title is going to get me into trouble with someone. But isn’t it so appropriate for the picture? And in my mind, it’s at least quasi-true… except maybe for Keith’s… and Murphy’s… oh heck. Beer is just good.

I was never one of those girls who turned up her nose at a glass of the cold stuff, even that awful American “beer” (Coors Light, anyone? Milwaukee’s Best?) I’ve liked beer ever since my mother popped open a Corona, stuck a lime in it, and scooted it towards me, saying, “Mexican food isn’t worth it without beer.” (I got really, really lucky in the mom department.) Ever since then, not only have I embraced beer as a nice way to spend an evening, but also as an appropriate accompaniment to Mexican, Indian, and Japanese cuisine. Oh, and good old fashioned burgers and fries. In fact… I think I might have to start a series on beer. Hmm…

But back to Guinness. This summer, on my whirlwind tour of Europe, we made a stop in Dublin. And what good college student goes to Dublin without at least a peek into the Guinness factory? The whole thing smelled like hops and radiated steam… it felt a lot like some of those Disneyworld rides where you are supposed to feel like it’s foggy out. But the best part was at the top.

On the eighth floor of the Guinness factory, there is a huge bar with glass windows all around, a perfect panorama of Dublin’s fair city. And with your ticket into the factory comes a free pint of the good stuff.

Guinness is like a meal. It’s very, very filling, and that day, we did have our pints as our dinner. It’s difficult to drink a pint of Guinness and then continue your night out at the bar, but I think it’s better that way… you really get to appreciate the complexity of the taste. Guinness is very sweet for a beer, and it tastes strongly of hops. Dark stouts like Guinness taste nothing like their cousins, the lagers, or even like ale. Stout is a whole different category, and I don’t care who hates me for it… Guinness is the king.

Oh… and I kind of stole my glass. Shh… don’t tell.