Cincinnati Chili … Sort of … Not Really

I never make Cincinnati chili. Let me just get that out there. Like the French who never bake their own baguettes because there’s a bakery on every corner, there are three chili parlors within a three mile radius of my house serving up three delicious versions of Cincinnati chili (and canned versions from those restaurants can also be found in every Kroger). Why would I bother? SoupAddict has — like many of you — a long list of other recipes just begging to be made.

But when I saw a recipe for Cincinnati chili in the February issue of Bon Appetit, I had to try it. I’ll be upfront about my motives: morbid weary curiosity. The recipe replaces ground beef with lamb, in an interesting nod to Cincinnati chili’s Macedonian roots.

SoupAddict is hardly one to fuss about food authenticity, since it’s beyond certain that she has messed with regional recipes that neither should have nor needed to be messed with. But she did it anyway, and unapologetically so.

However, we’re talking names here. Adding lamb to chili and calling it “Cincinnati chili” is like making a bean stew and calling it “Texas chili” (Texas chili is all about the meat ^[1], baby). Only Texans are allowed to make vegetarian Texas chili. For the rest of us, our creations are called simply vegetarian chili.  😉

One further comment: Bon Appetit’s recipe ^[2] is basically a riff on this ^[3] well-worn (and not very authentic) Cincinnati chili recipe, with lamb instead of beef. And completely puzzling additions of fresh parsley and goat cheese. [Scratches head]. I totally left those out. Unapologetically.

Cincinnati chili is famous for its unusual spices, including cinnamon, allspice and chocolate. Believe it, it’s true.

In true Cincinnati chili, onions and garlic must be chopped very, very finely, so that they disappear completely into the chili sauce (although I honestly believe the secret original recipes call for onion powder and garlic powder, not fresh).

Here, it doesn’t matter: it’s just regular chili we’re makin’, with lamb, cinnamon and chocolate, like you do every day. No need to make a fuss about onion cube size.

I intentionally left the ground lamb in its large chunky string state, and the recipe does not instruct you to do otherwise, but if you want authentic texture, run the ground meat through your food processor so that no chunks remain. The meat should be pebbly small.

Unlike in this recipe, authentic Cincinnati chili meat is boiled, not browned, in plain water. But don’t boil the lamb here — brown it per instructions. Regular chili, people, regular chili.

A long cooking time will meld all the flavors nicely. It’s not Cincinnati chili by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s a very decent chili.

Cincinnati chili is served either over spaghetti or used as a hot dog topping (called, coneys).

Here’s your typical “three-way.” Spaghetti, meat, cheese. Cheddar cheese — sharp cheddar cheese, preferrably, — not goat cheese. A four-way adds chopped raw onions, and kidney beans is a five-way.