Got chili?

This is a picture of Tolbert's Restaurant in Grapevine, an iconic and authentic chili

parlor. Frank Tolbert was the founder and moving spirit behind the annual chili cook-off in Terlingua, Texas. He first opened his restaurant in 1976. Today his daughter and her husband serve forty gallons of chili a day. They still use her father's recipe. Pardon the white car--I'm not a good photographer.

I was scheduled to have lunch with Melinda from TCU Press today, so I called to ask how she felt about pink eye. "I hate it!" was her vehement reply. But Jacob had developed pink eye and would only be sent home from school if he went, so he was mine for most of the day. I thought I'd take him to lunch with us, but his mother came and got him about eleven, took him to the doctor and fed him while Melinda and I indulged in wine and salad at Patrizio's--our favorite lunch. Jacob was a lamb all day--mostly watched TV, played with his Legos, and every once in a while came to the office to visit or make an announcement. His frequent question, after determining that everyone else was in school: When will the children be out of school? My first answer was six hours. But about three, when I had gone to nap with a stern warning to wake me only in emergency, he came calling, "Wake up! Unlock the door! I want to wave at my teacher." I'm afraid I said no. Good thing I had locked the high-up dead bolt.
All this quiet had a great benefit--I got a good start on revising and finishing my chili book. Decided on the organization and did a new outline,sorted out recipes, and saw that I have a lot of work ahead of me. I've been talking to the folks at Texas Tech about this for over a year--we get close and then one of us backs off. But I think the editor is ready to send it for outside appraisal if I'll just get it done, and we're talking about pictures, etc. My big chore now is mostly going to be cut and paste without losing attribution--I'm a little daunted by the prospect. But there is quite a bit of new material I want to add.
It's been a fun book to research, but I will still welcome recipes. So, if you have an unusual chili recipe (I have plenty of traditional, thank you) or a suggestion for something to do with chili--like Frito Pie, nachos, appetizers, etc.--please do send it to me at j.alter@tcu.edu, and I'll be sure to credit if I use it. Can't promise to use every recipe and can't promise a comp copy of the book. That's all out of my hands. Recipes from all over are welcome because I make the point that chili may have begun in Texas--it really did, and not in Mexico as many people believe--it is now almost a naitonal dish. The title of this book at this point is still Texas is Chili Country.

All for the sake of research

Betty and I had one of our culinary adventures today--and one of the best ever. We went to check out Tolbert's Restaurant in Grapevine for my book on chili. For those who don't know, historian and journalist Frank X. Tolbert was the guru of Texas chili and a cofounder of the annual Terlingua International Chili Championship Cookoff. If anybody's chili is authentic, it should be Tolbert's. The restaurant is owned and managed by the late Tolbert's daughter, Kathleen Tolbert Ryan. We met years ago, at a strange dinner party, but I was delighted when I called her that she remembered me and was anxious to work with me on my chili book.
So today, she met us at the restaurant with a fabulous collection of pictures and posters for the book. And we had lunch. Now I'd been a bit worried--Tolbert was a chili purist (no beans, for one thing) and I worried that his chili would be too hot--after all, years ago I was a Yankee and my palate has never adjusted to really spicy food. And then of course I worried about eating too much fattening food. Not at all! Lunch was a delightful experience. We had donkeys' tails.
Puzzled? Well, it's a Tolbert invention--a pure beef hot dog, wrapped in a tortilla and deep fried. I'd seen this when I googled the menu, and of course I pictured sort of a greasy quesadilla with a hot dog in it. Forget that. The tortilla was wrapped tightly around the hot dog--we still haven't figured out how they do that--and not the least bit greasy, just crisp and good, a perfect contrast  to the texture of the hot dog. It's served with a mustard sauce that Kathleen told us is a mix of mustard and their salsa (a combination I'd never thought of but it was great) and a taster's cup of chili. We figured out later maybe you're supposed to pour the mustard and chili over the donkey tail and eat it with a fork. We treated it as finger food, dunking the tail into mustard and eating the chili separately, which I was glad I did so I got a taste of it. It was so good we each asked for one more small cup--and this time they came with spoons. We each ordered a side of cole slaw--it was clearly made on site, fresh and crisp and no preservative taste. Betty and I agreed that we each could have eaten another hot dog (we split one order) but prudence kept us from it.
We watched a bowl of red being delivered to an adjacent table, and I wished I had my camera out. It  looks like a bowl of small chips with a gorgeous, perfect green chile perched on top of it. Eye appeal was great, and by then I was sort of wishing I'd ordered a bowl of chili--except I wouldn't have wanted to miss the donkey tails.
Kathleen toured us around the restaurant, pointing out various pictures, lots of her dad and one wonderful one of her mom at Terlingua. She even took us back in the kitchen and Betty toured the walk-in. Betty and her husband own the Star Cafe in Fort Worth, and those two restaurant gals had a good time comparing war stories.
All in all, it was a great adventure--and I came away with a lot of illustrations and some new knowledge for my book. Plus a friend I can call on when I have questions. Kathleen is still chair or co-chair of the Terlingua Festival. Sometimes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I guess she's been around chili most of her life.

Campaign Kickoff and Critters

This is the table for my Grassroots Campaign Kickoff party for gubernatorial candidate Bill White tonight. I was actually rather proud of the table arrangement, though it doesn't look as good in the picture as it did in reality. But I liked the idea of scattering bumper sticks as table decorations--Jordan arrived a bit late with a sign that said, "Please take the table decorations home," and people did. I gave out lots of stickers and bumper stickers, as well as yard signs, and I got a list of about twenty guests--of course one works for the White campaign and another, longtime friend Lon Burnam, is a Democratic state rep who told people he was here as a surrogate candidate. Nobody watched the video; nobody looked at the editorial from the Nacogdoches paper that I had up on my computer, in which the reporter, usually a conservative, declared that Bill White was the genuine article, not just a politician talking the talk. I've heard that a lot, and I'm impressed by the energy of the campaign. I keep telling people if they're on Facebook to friend Bill White--he posts daily, sometimes several times, and his local office tells me he writes the posts himself rather than letting a staff member do it. His main focus is on education, and I think he'd be a good governor. I hope he has the momentum to oust the current governor, and I'm willing to do what I can.

Of course I made too much food--chili/Velveeta queso, cheese queso (Jordan's recipe calls for Velveeta, cream cheese, and Rotel), a corn dip (more cream cheese--this was an artery-clogging menu), hummus and pita rounds, Megan's Texas caviar recipe (really good--I used Paul Newman's lime vinaigrette--very tasty), and the bourbon hot dogs which are almost a tradition at my parties. Now what to do with the leftovers? I think I can freeze the bourbon hot dogs, and I'll eat the hummus, but the dips---hmmmmm.

Jacob is spending the night again, full of good spirits after being a bit shy at the party. But for him, the highlight came when his mother was leaving to go to another party. She stepped out on the porch and screamed--a garter or garden snake was right there by the door. New neighbor Brian leapt to the rescue and threw the critter into the bushes, but then of course Jacob wanted to see it, so he and Brian spent long times leaning over the railing looking. Much later in the evening Jacob wanted to go back to see the snake, but it was gone.

Now I've had possums, raccoons, and a snake. I also have geckos all over the front porch and on the windows in the playroom in the back. When the outdoor light is on at night, their little bodies are almost translucent. Jordan just doesn't like creepy crawly things, and I remember once when she was living in this house years ago and found a gecko in the shower with her. She freaked, as she did tonight. Sometimes a gecko makes its way into the house, but the cat often goes after it with glee. Jacob and I had a long talk about some snakes, like this one, are our friends.

Most of my day was consumed with the party--and my evening was certainly consumed with cleaning up. But I did read a lot of Frank X Tolbert's 1953 book, A Bowl of Red, a history of chili, and found it most interesting. Chili really is a Texas dish--it did not, contrary to many beliefs, originate in Mexico. We can rightly claim it.

Now it's late, I'm tired, and I'm waiting for Jacob to go to sleep, so I too can sleep. Last night, he was asleep by 10:15, but that mean he was a cheerful earful by 7:15 this morning. I'm hoping he'll sleep later tomorrow.