When I was working in Midtown Manhattan at a magazine, I used to visit a small Mexican joint for lunch. The food was good for a quick meal but it was decidedly not Tex-Mex, as it specialized in burritos and served two chilis that were both made with beans.
The beef one was the usual ground meat, kidney bean, and tomato affair that people in the Northeast like to pass off as chili. I tried it once and that was more than enough, as it was not only absent any chile peppers but the ingredients that were included had little flavor. If anything, the chili skewed more sweet than spicy. I was not a fan.
The other chili was a white chili. Since I am a chili purist, I’ve always thought that white chili was a silly name. If the stew isn’t made with dried red chile peppers and beef, how can you call it chili? Indeed, white chili is typically a chicken based soup made with green chiles and white beans. It’s not a bad combination, but it’s not Texas chili. No matter, the white chili at this particular restaurant was excellent, and naming issues aside, I ordered a bowl of it at least once a week.
As is typical of the white chili genre, the stew was made with chicken, green chiles, and white beans. After being slowly cooked for hours, it turned into a rich thick concoction that would keep me warm on cold days. I’d top it with cilantro and a dollop of salsa and be in white chili bliss.
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