Do not, I repeat, do not use a blender. I once saw a guy puree his fresh-tomato chili into a pink soup. He cried. I cried. The chili cried. You want texture—little pockets of tomato flesh that burst in your mouth like flavor grenades. If you must thicken it, mash some beans against the side of the pot.
Serve it with a dollop of sour cream, sharp cheddar, and a fistful of fresh cilantro. The cool dairy will balance the fire of the chili, and the cilantro will make you feel like a fancy chef even if you’re eating in your underwear. And you will be eating in your underwear. Because that’s what chili does to a person.
One last surprise fact: the first chili cook-off in 1967 was won by a guy who used fresh tomatoes. He was a plumber from Texas named Winston “The Squeeze” Garza. That’s not true, but it should be. Go make this chili. Your taste buds will send you a thank-you note, probably written in beans.
