Paul's Chilli

Three years and three months ago I was in the throws of my second year at University, fighting the increasingly difficult battle between booze and the books, the former of which had a tendancy to emerge the victor. On a January night much like any other I found myself on 'Call Lane' in Leeds; which for those of you who have never had the pleasure of visiting West Yorkshire's hub of further education, is a road of trendy bars, trendy people, and eekingly trendy music where students can go to quoff cocktails before heading out to any of the city's legendary nightclubs. On the evening in question I was with a relatively new group of friends that I'd stumbled across whilst doing the rounds in Leeds' student ghetto; Hyde Park, and like a rose betwixt the pansies in a bed made of dreams (a sticky sambuca covered table in a bar) there sat an incredibly pretty girl. 

Photo taken by the pretty girl in the bar.

To cut a very long story a considerable amount shorter; after a week or two of being sworn to secrecy under the cloak and danger of uncertainty, we finally "stepped out" together (the mix tape did it) on a romantic and heavily homosexual holiday for 16 in the techno underbelly of Berlin; and the rest as they say, is history.

A few months down the road and it was time to meet the parents; a milestone in any relationship, however I've always prided myself to the point of extreme enjoyment with my ability to shmooze the older generation with a montage of carefully gauged banter, home cooked meals, tried and tested anecdotes, and a carefully honed version of Enrique Inglesias' "Hero", in Spanish, which melts the heart of even the most sceptical of matriarchs.

Things were going well, swimmingly in fact, but then a very strange thing happened; Paul, the man of El Casa, beat me at my own game. It wasn't his admittedly great banter; nor was any one the fanscinating yarns he spun of his time in South America, pinoeering into the jungle with his copy of the "South America Guide Book" circa 1928, complete with instruction on which dinner jacket to wear when liasing with the savages. His guitar playing, I have to say, very nearly sealed the deal.

The crux though, and inline with the old saying - "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach" - was his Chilli Con Carne. It was love at first taste and we haven't looked back since, bounding off into the fields of Chillyseum together.


Ingredients: (Serves 6, or 1 large Australian)

2 large onions
3 large green peppers
1 kg lean ground beef (5% - 10% fat)
Tomato puree
3 cans whole tomatoes in own juices
3 cans red kidney beans in chilli sauce
Hot Chilli powder

Method:

1. Lightly brown meat in pan with a little oil. Stir in some tomato pure and put into a large saucepan.2. Cut onions into thick slices, then cut slices into 4. Gently fry in pan with a little oil until translucent. Add to lthe arge saucepan.

2.Cut peppers into strips, then cut strips into 4. Gently fry in pan with a little oil for 5 minutes. Add to large saucepan.

3. Place large saucepan on low heat. Add tomatoes. Break up whole tomatoes using spatula.

4. Drain chilli sauce out of 2 cans of beans, (leave one can undrained). Add all 3 cans to large saucepan. 
Stir mixture thoroughly. Heat until simmering gently.

5. Add two teaspoons of hot chilli powder (or to taste). Simmer for about 45 minutes. Stir occasionally.

Serve with rice or nachos. 

Chilli really tastes best when left overnight to soak in its own juices, then reheated.