Beef Chuck Chili — Packet Seasoning and Small Victories

Christmas is two weeks away and Mama is in full production mode. She has been baking for three days: pound cake, sweet potato pie, cookies (sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies, and the snickerdoodles that Marc loves and requests every year even though he is twenty-one and should be able to buy his own cookies). The duplex smells like butter and vanilla and the oven has not been off since Monday. Mama bakes the way she does everything: with intensity, precision, and a total refusal to accept anything less than perfection. She called me on Wednesday and asked me to come over Saturday to help her with the tree. Dad's diabetes has gotten worse — his feet swell, his energy is low, and climbing a step stool to hang ornaments is no longer in his physical vocabulary. So I came, and Darius came, and we put up the same artificial tree that has been in that living room since 1995, and Mama directed us with the authority of a field general. "The angel goes on top. Not that angel — the GOOD angel. And straighten that branch. DeShawn, that is not straight. Darius, hold the ladder. Steady. Steady!" We did as we were told. We have always done as we were told. Dad watched from his recliner. He looked smaller this year, which scared me. Ronald Carter has never been a big man — five-ten, maybe 170 at his heaviest — but he carried himself with a density that made him feel larger. Now he is losing weight, and the recliner seems to swallow him. His glasses are thicker. His hands shake when he reaches for his coffee. He is sixty years old and he looks seventy. Diabetes is eating him from the inside, and the medications slow it but do not stop it, and I am watching my father become old and there is nothing I can do about it except show up and put up the tree and pretend I do not notice that the man in the recliner is not the man who grilled burgers at my birthday party six months ago. Aiden gave Dad a hug on Saturday. Unprompted. He walked over to the recliner, put his arms around Dad's legs, and said "Papa" — his name for Ronald. Dad's face — I will carry that face with me forever. The hardness melted. The stoicism dissolved. He picked Aiden up and held him and closed his eyes, and for a moment he looked young again, or at least he looked like a man who had a reason to be here. That is what grandchildren are: reasons. Brianna and I are doing okay. Not great, but okay. The holiday season has a way of smoothing over the rough edges — there are distractions, events, things to do together that do not involve arguing about money or the future. We went to the Christmas market at Eastern Market on Sunday. Brianna bought handmade soap. I bought Aiden a wooden toy truck from a vendor who carved it himself. We drank hot cider and walked through the market like a family in a holiday movie, and I chose to live in that moment and not in the moments that would follow. Dinner was chili. Mine, technically — Brianna was out, and I made it from a recipe I found on the back of a McCormick chili seasoning packet. Brown the beef. Add the packet. Add tomatoes. Add beans. Simmer. I did this, and it worked, and Aiden ate it, and I felt a small, unexpected pride. I made food. It was not good food. It was packet-seasoning food. But it was mine.

That packet-seasoning chili turned out to be exactly what the week called for—something simple enough that I couldn’t mess it up, but still mine to claim. Since then I’ve made it a few more times and worked it up a little: real beef chuck instead of ground beef, same trusty McCormick packet, same tomatoes and beans, just cut and browned and simmered with a little more intention. It’s still not complicated—that’s the point—but it tastes like I meant to make it.

Beef Chuck Chili

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 lb beef chuck, cut into small cubes (or substitute ground beef)
• 1 packet McCormick Chili Seasoning Mix (1.25 oz)
• 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans or pinto beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Optional toppings: shredded cheddar, sour cream, sliced green onions, crackers

Instructions

1. Brown the beef. Heat oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Season beef lightly with salt and pepper. Add to the pot and cook, breaking up any clumps, until browned on all sides, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
2. Add the seasoning. Sprinkle the McCormick chili seasoning packet over the browned beef and stir to coat evenly. Cook for 1 minute until fragrant.
3. Add tomatoes and sauce. Pour in the diced tomatoes (with their juices) and tomato sauce. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
4. Add beans and water. Stir in the drained beans and water. Bring the mixture to a boil.
5. Simmer. Reduce heat to low, cover loosely, and simmer for 20–25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chili thickens and the flavors meld.
6. Taste and serve. Adjust seasoning if needed. Ladle into bowls and top with shredded cheese, sour cream, or whatever you have on hand.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 370 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 890mg