Ingredients for chili are the chili.  The method is stupid, and the actual serving and eating are animal simple.  The biggest debate in my neck of the woods was always beans or no beans, tomato or no tomato.  I have countless recipes for chili using everything from just four ingredients to well over a reasonable amount. I still use this basic mixture as my basis and yardstick.  I've posted chili recipes before, but this is the core, the basic stuff.

Chili is not gourmet.  It is not intended to be complex, high dollar, or at all polite.  It is a stew, ostensibly a thick cumin and red chili gravy with meat simmered in it.  The meat is normally the cheapest you can find.  Does that mean it has to be bad?  No.  The role of the meat is to add protein and fat. The flavor of the meat is not enhanced by price, it is enhanced by fat content. Texture also plays a key role.

Around here we have "chili grind" ground beef, which is a very rough grind of the heel of a chuck roast.  In the 1920s and 1930s, the chili grind had a LOT of gristle in it, giving most pots of chili (cooked typically all day) a gritty, chewy texture.  Some meat suppliers can still get that texture, but I'm not fond of it; some traditions were based on necessities that modern food availability negates. I do still use a chili grind, though, which is at least 25 percent fat, very rough ground chuck. I use 2 pounds or so.

The pot starts smoking hot, with bacon fat, lard, or other animal fat with a low melt point. If you use suet (as the original recipe calls for), you have to start it with water, rend it, then skim the surface until you have a layer of oil.

I add the ground chuck to this without any seasoning, along with one diced hot white onion.  Some people season the meat before it hits the pot.  I've done it both ways, and seasoning beforehand doesn't buy you anything.  I break the meat up with a potato masher or a large slotted wooden spoon, and cook it to medium, stirring constantly. For mouthfeel, you want large-ish chunks of meat but you don't want them crispy or mushy.  Medium here means cooked through, gray-brown, and springy. The onion may just start to carmelize. It's OK to let it brown, but don't let the onion burn.

I should mention that before the meat is fully cooked, I rapidly add garlic powder, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper, and fine ground Mexican oregano.  My basic amounts are: 2 tsp of garlic powder (or a couple of crushed then minced garlic cloves), a teaspoon or so of oregano, a quarter cup of very hot red chili powder, and enough cumin.

That's right: enough.  There's a very personal balance there, and it is important to taste the mixture often, adjust as needed, and eat when it tastes right.  To start, use half the amount of cumin that you used for chili...so if you used a quarter cup of chili, start with an eighth cup of cumin.  Some people like cumin, some hate it.  Balance to your taste.

This paste of meat, fat, onion, chili, garlic and cumin is damn near a curry.  Think of chili as a curry gone all flat.

Now, add liquid.  Some folks use tomato sauce, some use water, some use beer, some use a mixture of tomato sauce and broth.  I use a can of chopped tomato and add water until the consistancy is slightly too thin. I then start working with the spices to sort out the flavor I want, and thicken as needed with tomato paste.  This is a sin in parts of Texas; I can't think of anything else to thicken the sauce with other than more red chili powder, and that can get ugly.  This is the time to taste, let simmer for five minutes, taste again, add spices as needed, simmer for five, taste again...and do this until it tastes right, keeping in mind that chili powder will cancel salty tastes, cumin will enhance garlic tastes, and pepper will make things bitter.

Now, if you are the type of person who uses beans in chili, add them, cooked, at this point.  The best beans for it are pintos that have been slow cooked in hamhock and allowed to sit for at least a day in the fridge.  They'll tone the chili down a lot so be prepapred to spice it back up.

Once the pot is simmering, I add a cup of diced hot New Mexico green chilis and one teaspoon of peanut butter.

Simmer for 30 minutes to eight hours (or, if you used beans, simmer for X amount of time, then add the beans at the last 30 minutes), then eat.  I normally have mine with a tortilla or with saltines.  Sometimes I'll add diced onion as a garnish.

This is the basic, the core recipe.  It is very quick, easy, cheap as hell, and requires your onw tastebuds to adjust the ingredients.  My father's secret was the peanut butter, which he accidentally gave away one time by using chunky style.  That's now a tradition....we use chunky peanut butter.  I also add a raw egg at the very last and stir it through, which adds a great deal of depth to the taste.