Chilli con Carne

Chilli con Carne: The Smoky Island Pot I Make For Bonfire Night

The Smoky Island Pot I Make For Bonfire Night

My first November in England, nobody told me what was coming. I was in a flat with thin windows, already cold in a way I did not know a person could be cold. Then one evening the sky started exploding. Bangs, whistles, the dog downstairs losing his mind. I went out onto the step, fireworks going up from three different gardens, and the whole street smelled of smoke and gunpowder and something else underneath it. Food. Somebody two doors down had a pot going.

That is the thing that saved me about Bonfire Night. Back home in Guadeloupe we do not have the fifth of November, but we know exactly what it is: everybody outside, and one big pot doing the work of holding the whole crowd together. In Pointe-à-Pitre it might be a court-bouillon on the fire at the beach. Here it is a chilli. Different pot, same job.

So I learned to make chilli, then started making it my way. My mother cooked for eight people every day of her life and she taught me that a big pot is not about more ingredients, it is about more time and more layers. So in went the things my hands reach for without asking: thyme, garlic, allspice, a whole scotch bonnet dropped in for perfume. And then the part that makes people ask me what I have done to it, a good few spoons of my BBQ Sauce.

That sauce is smoke, molasses, tomato and warm spice already cooked down into one thing, and stirred into a pot of beef and beans it does in one minute what a long afternoon of fiddling would do.

Let me show you how I make it. The proper way. The way that feeds twelve people standing in a garden in the dark.

Recipe at a glance

  • Cuisine: Caribbean fusion
  • Prep: 15 minutes • Cook: 60 minutes • Total: 75 minutes
  • Serves: 6 generously, or 10 in jacket potatoes
  • Featured sauce: BBQ Sauce
  • Heat level: 4/10, smoky and warm, with plenty of room to push it hotter
  • Diet: Dairy free

What you’ll need

Two things carry this pot: the mince and the sauce. Buy mince with some fat in it, around 15 percent, because a chilli made with very lean beef goes grey and tight and there is nothing you can do about it afterwards. Buy whole plum tomatoes in a tin and crush them in your hand as they go in, they taste sweeter than the pre-chopped kind. Kidney beans come from a tin, because this is a Tuesday pot, not a project.

The BBQ Sauce is not a garnish here. It goes in during the cooking, and half of what you taste at the end came out of that jar. It is vegan, though its mustard and vinegar are declared allergens on the label, so this pot is not gluten free as written. Swap in a certified gluten free barbecue sauce if you need it to be.

  • 2 tbsp sunflower or rapeseed oil
  • 2 medium onions (about 300g), finely chopped
  • 1 red pepper, deseeded and diced
  • 4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
  • 6 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves picked (or 1 tsp dried)
  • 800g beef mince, around 15% fat
  • 1 tbsp ground cumin
  • 2 tsp sweet smoked paprika
  • 1 tsp ground allspice (pimento)
  • 1 tsp ground coriander
  • ½ tsp ground cinnamon
  • 2 tbsp tomato purée
  • 2 x 400g tins plum or chopped tomatoes
  • 400ml beef stock
  • 5 tbsp BBQ Sauce
  • 1 whole scotch bonnet, left completely intact (optional, for aroma)
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 400g tin red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 tsp salt, plus more to taste
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • Juice of 1 lime
  • 3 spring onions, sliced, and a handful of coriander, to serve

How I make it

  1. Get the pan hot and the onions sweet. Warm the oil in your biggest heavy pot over a medium heat. Add the onions, the red pepper and a good pinch of salt and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, stirring now and then, until soft and just turning gold at the edges. Do not rush this part. Every minute you give the onions here is a minute you do not have to apologise for later.

  2. Garlic and thyme. Stir in the garlic and the thyme leaves and cook for 1 minute, until you can smell the garlic properly. Any longer and it turns bitter.

  3. Brown the beef in two goes. Turn the heat up. Add half the mince, spread it out and leave it alone for 2 minutes so it catches, then break it up with a wooden spoon. Do the same with the second half. Two batches, not one: all 800g at once floods the pan, the meat steams instead of browning, and you lose the crust that gives the chilli its backbone.

  4. Toast the spices. Scatter in the cumin, smoked paprika, allspice, coriander and cinnamon and stir through the hot meat for a minute so they hit the oil and wake up. The kitchen should smell like a market stall.

  5. Tomato purée next. Add the purée and keep stirring for another minute, letting it darken from bright red to brick. This takes the raw edge off it.

  6. Build the pot. Tip in the tomatoes, the stock, the BBQ Sauce and the bay leaf. If you are using the scotch bonnet, drop it in whole and do not pierce it, not once. Whole, it gives you the fruity perfume with almost none of the fire. Cut it, and you have made a different dinner for different people.

  7. Simmer low and slow. Bring to a gentle boil, then turn it down until it is just blipping. Half cover and leave for 35 minutes, stirring every ten minutes and scraping the bottom. If it looks tight, add a splash of hot water.

  8. Beans in last. Add the drained kidney beans and simmer uncovered for a final 15 minutes, until the sauce is glossy and clinging. The beans only need to warm through and take on the flavour. Put them in at the start and they go to mush.

  9. Fish out the bonnet. Find the scotch bonnet and the bay leaf and lift them out carefully. A scotch bonnet that bursts in the pot at the last minute is a story your guests will tell for years, and not kindly.

  10. Season and wake it up. Taste. It will need salt, probably more than you think, and plenty of black pepper. Then squeeze in the lime. That lime is not optional in my kitchen: an hour of slow cooking flattens everything, and the acid stands it all back up.

  11. Let it sit. Lid on, heat off, ten minutes. Everybody skips this step and it is the one that makes the difference. The pot settles and the flavours stop shouting over each other.

  12. Serve it hot. Scatter over the spring onions and coriander and take the whole pot to the table with a stack of bowls.

The role of BBQ Sauce in this dish

A chilli built on mince, tomatoes and spice is bright and sharp at the top and a bit hollow underneath. That hollow is what people are trying to fill when they start adding squares of dark chocolate, or a spoon of coffee, or a glug of stout.

My BBQ Sauce fills it in one go, because it is already the answer: smoke, slow-cooked tomato, molasses sweetness and warm Caribbean spice, all reduced down together before it reaches your pot. Stirred in at step six and given 35 minutes to work, it sinks underneath the beef and gives the sauce that dark, almost sticky quality you get from a barbecue pit.

You notice it most at the end of a spoonful, after the cumin and the tomato have said their piece. A sweetness that is not sugar, a smokiness that never went near a fire.

It brings heat too, but gently, about a 4 out of 10. That is deliberate. On Bonfire Night you are cooking for grandparents, children and the neighbour who says they cannot take spice, all at once. Build the pot warm, and let the people who want fire find it at the table.

Tips from my kitchen

Make it the day before. Chilli is better on day two and it is not close. The spices settle into the meat overnight and the whole thing tastes rounder. If you are feeding a crowd on the fifth, cook it on the fourth, cool it fast, and reheat it gently with a splash of water.

Double it without doubling the liquid. If you scale up to 1.6kg of mince, do not use four tins of tomatoes and 800ml of stock. Use three and a half tins and 600ml. A bigger pot loses less to evaporation, and a watery chilli is a sad thing.

Skip the dark chocolate. People ask me about this every time. With the BBQ Sauce doing the work, you do not need it.

Salt at the end, not the start. Stock and tinned tomatoes both carry salt, and the pot reduces by a third. Season properly only once it has finished cooking.

Keep the scotch bonnet visible. Push it to the side of the pot where you can see it, or tie kitchen string round the stalk and hang it over the edge. Losing it in a dark red pot is how accidents happen.

What to serve it with

On the fifth of November there is only one right answer, and that is a jacket potato. Big floury ones, rubbed with oil and salt, an hour and a half in a hot oven until the skin crackles, split open and loaded with chilli. People can hold them, they stay hot in cold hands, and nobody needs to sit down. That is the whole trick of Bonfire Night food.

The rest of the year I serve this with rice and peas, or plain rice with a squeeze of lime through it. Soured cream and grated cheese go on top if you want them, though that takes it out of dairy free territory.

For the table, put out sliced avocado, pickled red onion and tortilla chips for scooping, and let people build their own plate. And put the sauces out. Anyone who wants proper fire can add a few drops of Caribbean Hot Sauce, and the ones who want smoke with real heat behind it can reach for Flaming BBQ Sauce. One pot for everyone, and each person makes it their own. That is how we eat at home.

FAQ

Can I make chilli con carne in a slow cooker?

Yes. Do steps one to five on the hob first, because browning the mince and toasting the spices is where most of the flavour is made and a slow cooker cannot do it. Then move everything across, add the tomatoes, BBQ Sauce and only 200ml of stock (slow cookers lose almost no liquid), and cook on low for 6 hours. Beans in for the last 30 minutes, lime at the end as normal.

What is the best mince for chilli con carne?

Beef mince with around 15 percent fat. Lean 5 percent mince browns badly and turns dry and grainy over an hour of simmering. Better still, ask your butcher for coarse-ground chuck: the bigger pieces hold their texture and you get real bites of beef rather than a paste.

Why does my chilli taste flat?

Three usual reasons, and I have been guilty of all of them. You browned the mince in one crowded batch so it steamed instead of catching. You added the spices to liquid rather than to hot oil, so they never opened up. Or you left out the acid. A squeeze of lime into a finished pot is the fastest fix in cooking, so try that first.

Is this chilli very spicy?

Not as written. My BBQ Sauce sits around 4 out of 10, warm rather than punishing, and a whole uncut scotch bonnet gives you its perfume without its fire. Children eat this in my house. If you want it hotter, finely chop half the scotch bonnet into the pot at step six, or leave the pot alone and put the hot sauces on the table so everybody chooses for themselves. I prefer the second way.

How long does it keep, and can I freeze it?

It keeps 3 days in the fridge in a sealed container and it genuinely improves on day two. It freezes well for up to 3 months, so I make a double batch and put half away in portions. Defrost overnight in the fridge and reheat gently with a splash of water, stirring so the bottom does not catch. Add the lime and herbs after reheating, never before freezing.

Final word from me

A pot of chilli is not a clever dish and it is not trying to be. It lets you stand outside in the cold with people you like and hand them something hot. That is all. I came to Bonfire Night as a stranger and the pot is what made it mine.

So make this one on the fourth, let it sit overnight, and bake a tray of potatoes while the fireworks are going up. Put the sauces on the table and let everybody argue about how hot they like it. And if you make it, tell me how it went. I always want to know.

JP