Slow-Cooker Pork Chili
Sometimes, life moves too fast. Like lately. We've had photo shoots at our house, as well as scouting runs for a coming series of cooking technique videos for weightwatchers.com--and have been in and out of New York City so many times in the past two weeks, I feel as if I live there. Dreydl's sick of the kennel. I'm sick of the car.
Slow-cookers are made for times like these. Dump stuff in, set the thing going, come back later, eat dinner. Seems like a no-brainer to me.
So I have no clue why these lovely appliances get such a bad rep. Once, we pitched a fancy magazine on a passel of slow-cooker recipes, and the uber-chic editor said, "Oh, sure, American housewives love that crap." (Well, she actually used another word for "crap." I'll leave it to your imagination.)
Well, Ms. Fancypants, call me an American housewife. I've always been partial to the slow cooker (aka, the crock pot).
Because of my years in Wisconsin for graduate school? No.
Because of my Baptist pot-luck supper roots? No. (By the way, we didn't believe in luck, so we called them "pot-providence suppers." We were nothing if not exacting.)
I love the slow cooker because it's really just a braising tool. And you know how I feel about braising.
The other day, amid a zillion things, Bruce made chili in ours. OK, ham chili. From leftovers from the shoot for the ham book. He used a fresh ham chunk (not smoked), but you could also use a pork loin. And he used fresh oregano. (Mr. Fancypants.) Dried would work just as well.
Here's the shtick:
Dump 2 chopped medium yellow onions, 2 pounds diced fresh ham (or pork loin), one 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes, 1 cup fat-free chicken broth, 2 tablespoons ancho chile powder, 2 tablespoons pasilla powder, 2 tablespoons New Mexican red chile powder, 2 tablespoons minced oregano leaves (or 1 tablespoon dried oregano), 1 tablespoon ground cumin, 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce, 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, and 3 minced garlic cloves into 5- or 6-quart slow cooker. Stir it all together, put the lid in place, and cook on low for 4 hours.
What if you don't have all those chile powders? You can find ancho chile powder in almost all supermarkets. Then you can substitute other chile powders, even just the standard stuff--but if you do, cut out the ground cumin since the standard chile powder has cumin already in the mix.
And you know the secret to slow-cooker success, right? Don't open the thing. Every time you open the lid, you need to add about 30 minutes to the cooking time. Slow-cookers work because of the combination of ambient humidity and low heat. That is, a braise. So just leave it be.
After 4 hours, stir in two 15-ounce cans drained and rinsed pink beans. My Texas kin will now sit up in consternation because "if you know beans about chili, you know chili doesn't have beans." OK, not traditionally. But beans add a little heft and tooth to a slow-cooker version. So go ahead and taunt me with your disapproval. As an American housewife, I'm pretty tough.
And that's dinner. No-brainer, right? And so good. We like to serve it with pickled jalapeño rings and sweet pickle relish atop. Oh, yeah, and beer. Lots of cold beer. Especially when life is moving too fast.





















3 Comments
Reader Comments (3)
Oh man, this sounds absolutely, totally delicious. I don't have a slow-cooker because I live in NYC and have no space for appliances...but I'm starting to think I really need to make room somehow. Apparently, you can also use it to make yogurt!
Luisa: Get one! Honestly, it's the best tool--even in a NYC kitchen. So very easy. Love making a short rib braise in it. I have never tried yogurt--and will readily admit I didn't even know it was possible--but I'd love to hear how it comes out. (And I'm gunning lately for a yogurt maker. Maybe I already have one and don't know it?)
I always use beans—dark and light kidneys and pintos, a can of each! It adds lots of color. I am surprised not to see allspice cloves. I don't know when I started adding them, but I'm addicted to the little buggers.
I am afraid to leave the crockpot on when I go out. It's irrational, I know, but I can't help it. I have, however, left the house with the stove on. So much for logic.
I love your dog, by the way. (Chili and dogs go together.)