It’s chilly here this morning! It’s pouring rain outside in gopherland; wind is whistling through the ditch, rivulets of rain are slashed sideways on the windows of the trailer, streaming down in sheets. Gene Autry is singing on the stereo cause we’re still out here in the wild west. Here’s the garden from our living room — photographing through wet windows seems to turn the photo into impressionist painting . . . What’s not to love?
This is the kind of day in October California people dream about. It’s been sunny and warm everyday since we got here; we’ve been having dinners at our favorite restaurant at the beach, sitting outside in the balmy air, eating shrimp, watching the sun drop into the Pacific . . . but not today! Today it’s fall just the way it is New England, blustery and windy;
Today people on the Central Coast of California get to light their fires, wear their new boots, put on a warm sweater, read under a quilt, shop for pumpkins, light the stove to make chili and cornbread, and pretend they really do have a fall. ♣ We know it will be short lived and “summer” again in a couple of days, (which it must be since we are all looking forward to the Remnants of the Past Antique Show here in San Luis Obispo this weekend); we need to get all the enjoyment out of this storm as possible. Strikes me as the perfect day to make Chili! Good! I was hoping I would have the chance to give you this delicious recipe, I was saving it for a day like today . . . put on your apron, make a cup of tea, get out your big soup pot . . . and here we go.
But first. Potholders. Saw this photo, had to show you. Maybe the old crocheted really darling ones are too small for our 21st century hands, but a couple of them on top of the regular ones can make the whole pile look more interesting….aren’t they cute? ♥
OK, here we go. My recipe for Chili is on page 78 of the Autumn Book for all of you that have that book, prop it up in front of you, otherwise the recipe will be printed at the bottom of this post. The first thing you do (after you light a little candle for romantic support), is cut 3 lbs. of beef chuck into 1″ pieces. (Or, better yet, ask Joe to do it!)
While he doing this for you, heat 1 Tbsp. canola oil in a large heavy pot.
Brown the beef, but don’t cook through, over high heat, in three or four batches, giving the pieces a little space so they brown well. As each batch is done, remove them to a bowl. Add a little more canola oil when needed (3 – 4 Tbsp. total).
Mince 4 cloves of garlic …. add to the pot about 3 minutes before the last batch of beef chunks are brown. Then put all the meat and juices back into the pot.
One of the reasons this chili is so deep, dark, and delicious and has such gorgeous color is because it calls for a quarter of a cup of chili powder. I look for the best; and find it in large bags in the Mexican food aisle; if you can find it, you want “medium hot” from roasted chili pods. But as usual, any kind will work.
Add the chili powder, along with a little flour, oregano (I’ll give the whole recipe at the end so you don’t have to pay attention to the amounts right now), and ground cumin. Stir well.
Pour in 2 1/2 c. beef broth. Canned is fine, but there is also a product I really like called “Better than Boullion” — it comes in a jar you keep in the fridge — it’s like a rich beef paste you mix with water.
Stir well, cover, and simmer, setting your timer for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally so it doesn’t scorch the bottom. Over time, as it’s simmering, add in one more cup of beef broth.
Rinse two cans of pinto beans and allow to drain well while the chili cooks.
When the time is almost up, and you’re ready to serve, chop some red onion and fresh cilantro leaves for garnish.
When the timer goes off, add in the drained beans, stir well, heat through and serve.
Serve this chili with a spoonful of sour cream, sprinkled with red onion and cilantro — in a wide bowl, or if you’re in front of the TV, you could have it in one of those huge latté cups. Wonderful with corn bread, or even those corn toasties you can buy premade at the supermarket; also delicious with buttered sourdough toast. Dessert can be Gingerbread with Lemon Sauce (in Autumn Book too)! Or ice cream and that delicious chocolate sauce you made a couple of weeks ago (if there’s any left!). Here’s the easy recipe.
T O U C H D O W N C H I L I
- 3-4 Tbsp. Canola oil (use a Tbsp. at a time as needed)
- 3 lbs. beef chuck, cut in 1″ pieces
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/4 c. chili powder
- 1/4 c. flour
- 1 Tbsp. dried oregano
- 1 Tbsp. ground cumin
- 3 1/2 c. beef broth, divided
- 2 – 15 oz. ans pinto beans, drained and rinsed well
- garnishes: chopped red onion, sour cream and chopped cilantro
In a large heavy pot, heat oil, and brown beef chunks (not touching so they will brown well) in 3 or 4 batches, removing each batch to a bowl, adding a bit more oil when needed. When last batch is almost done, add garlic and cook 3 minutes more. Put all beef back into pot, stir in chili, flour, oregano, and cumin. Slowly stir in 2 1/2 c. beef broth (save last cup for later). Stir well, cover and simmer, 1 1/2 hours. Stir occasionally; over time, add last cup of broth. At the end of the cooking time, add drained beans, stir well, heat through and serve with garnishes. ♥
And one more thing . . .
Kellee is in the process of putting up some of the wonderful old potholders we found while wandering around on this trip in the vintage section of our web store. xoxo Have a great day! ♥
The first thing I did when we got here late yesterday afternoon was hang Cindy’s quilt on the line out in our backyard because some of the girlfriends wanted “see the whole pattern” — so here it is. If you’re going to try and make this quilt, you’ll find some mighty tiny little patches there! But there’s also a secret in this picture, which the wind, by flipping up the corner, has hidden from view . . . and here it is!
We bought this place about ten years ago. The house is not fancy, it’s a two-bedroom modular home that the previous owner plopped down in this field in the 1960’s and began to raise goats. We bought it in 2002; and thought someday we might build a better house, but what happened is that instead of a house, we built a garden! It started with another picket-fence garden that Joe built to match the one we had on Martha’s Vineyard.
When we bought the property, it was all dirt, farm fences and barbed wire, a couple of trees, but no lawn, and no garden. The house was brown, inside and out. See what paint and green things growing can do! A little silk pursy to the sows ear and voila! There were estimated to be 100,000 gophers living the good life on this property when we bought it. (They are not cute like the one in this 
that’s left of it). So we actually live on an old river bed. Although the ditch aspect means we have no cell-phone access and TV goes out all the time, we do have really good dirt! Things grow here! 
All kinds of critters live here besides us and the gophers; it’s like a zoo without cages. Ground squirrels, also not cute, build mountains of hard-packed dirt. We used to turn into our driveway and scan the property and all over you could see them flying into the air and diving into their holes like in a Roadrunner cartoon. 
When I had my Heart of the Home store a few of years ago, I would cut roses from my garden early in the morning and go arrange them in vases and put them around the store. The orange one is “Just Joey” my favorite, along with the yellow “Julia Child.” We thought we were doing pretty good, garden-wise.
And then we went to England. And found out what “real” gardens look like; we wandered through the English countryside, gasping daily at twenty-six different, amazing (stunning!) gardens; I took notes; we came home inspired.
It would have a long grassy walk between two hedges, enclosed garden rooms, a semi-circular lawn off the back deck, an orchard where roses would climb the apple trees, just like they do in England. (Where it says “garden” on that plan, that’s where the picket fence garden is, so maybe you can get your bearings.)
So, we moved the fence back, it used to border that lawn, and we cleared out all the weeds, and started planting. Hedges, as bones, came first, because they will take about five years to even look like a hedge.
I know! I can hear you saying, “But you don’t live there!” You’re exactly right! It makes no sense and we know it. But the obsession won’t go away. We have this bug to leave behind a beautiful garden that we built ourselves, and this seems to be it. It’s the perfect place for year-round gardening. Who knows, when we’re old (er) and gray (er) and no longer able to shovel snow, we may run away to the trailer in the ditch.
This is what we came home to, nice straight rows of new hedge bordering the long walk!!!! It’s what’s been planted so far (we’re doing this a bit at a time, because we really have no idea what we’re doing, and spending this money feels better if it’s done in smaller clips). You have to pretend the escallonia hedges on both sides are so high and wide you can’t see over them. The walk only goes half the way so far, another chunk goes in next, so it will be a looooong walk. Joe said we should make it wide and gracious. Yes, of course, I thought, to match the trailer and the ditch.
Every so often, the hedges (these will be tall, you won’t be able to see the house over them) will open into a grass path through other parts of the garden, such as the orchard or the allée (a short promenade between two lines of trees; Rosemary has one :-)); this path goes through to a semi-circular lawn. The dirt on both sides is for large flowering bushes, trees and perennial flowers. That tree in the background was reason enough to buy this goat property. It’s an albizzia tree.
It’s not going quickly. It’s a slow, process, but it has “someday” written all over its face: it’s in pure dream state right now. This is the place where we most play the game, “what if we had a million dollars?” Gardens aren’t cheap, but at least we get our water from the creek!
See why I’m a little bit homesick no matter where I go?
