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Black Bean — Pumpkin Chili — The Pot That Welcomes Fall Home

The first cool front came through Thursday and I nearly wept with relief. Eighty-one degrees instead of ninety-five. A breeze that had actual movement instead of just warm stillness. The marsh smelled different — cleaner, crisper, like the season had changed its clothes. I opened every window in the house and the air came through and Earl said, "It's fall," and I said, "Amen."

I started a pot of soup the minute the temperature dropped. Bean soup — navy beans soaked overnight, cooked with a ham hock and onion and garlic and a bay leaf and thyme. The kind of soup that takes all day and fills the house with a smell so good it's basically a hug. I do this every year — the first cool day, I make bean soup. It's my way of welcoming fall, the way some people put out wreaths or buy pumpkins. I welcome the season with a pot on the stove and steam on the windows.

Darnell called from Jacksonville. Patricia's boy. He's twenty-two now, working in IT, and he's been dating a young woman named Keisha for about a year. He called to tell me he's thinking about proposing. I said, "Darnell, you called your grandmother before your mother?" He said, "Granny Dot, Mama will tell me to wait. You'll tell me the truth." I said, "Baby, the truth is this: do you love her?" He said yes. I said, "Can you provide for her?" He said yes. I said, "Does she eat?" He said, "What?" I said, "Does she eat well? Does she enjoy food? Is she the kind of woman who appreciates a table?" He went quiet. Then he said, "She makes this jollof rice that's incredible." I said, "Marry her." A woman who makes jollof rice is a woman who knows how to feed a family. That's all the qualification I need.

At school, we're in the good stretch — October approaching, the children settled into routine, the kitchen running smooth. LaVerne and Tammy and Big Mike and I are a machine. We can serve four hundred and thirty-eight lunches in eighty-five minutes, which is not a record anyone tracks but which I track, because efficiency is a form of love. Every minute faster means one more minute the children have to eat, and children who rush through lunch don't eat well.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Now, my pot that Thursday was navy beans and a ham hock — that’s my personal tradition and I’m not changing it. But I know not everybody has a ham hock in the refrigerator when the temperature finally drops, and I know some of you are cooking for folks who don’t eat meat, and I know pumpkin is everywhere this time of year for good reason. So here is what I want you to make if you don’t have my exact pantry: this Black Bean and Pumpkin Chili, which is thick and earthy and smells like October, and which will do exactly what a pot of beans on the stove is supposed to do — make your house feel like a home that’s ready for the season.

Black Bean & Pumpkin Chili

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1 green bell pepper, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
  • 2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (15 oz) pure pumpkin puree (not pie filling)
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
  • 2 cups low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
  • 2 teaspoons chili powder
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • Sour cream, shredded cheddar, cilantro, and lime wedges for serving

Instructions

  1. Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to turn golden, about 6 to 8 minutes.
  2. Add garlic and jalapeño. Stir in the garlic and jalapeño and cook another 1 to 2 minutes, until fragrant. Do not let the garlic brown.
  3. Bloom the spices. Add the chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, and cayenne directly to the pot. Stir to coat the vegetables and cook for 1 minute. This step deepens the flavor — do not skip it.
  4. Build the chili. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices, then add the pumpkin puree and broth. Stir everything together until the pumpkin is fully incorporated and the base is smooth and uniform in color.
  5. Add the beans. Stir in the black beans. Bring the pot to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 25 to 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chili has thickened to your liking.
  6. Taste and adjust. Season with salt and black pepper. Taste again. If you want more heat, add a pinch more cayenne. If it tastes flat, a squeeze of lime juice will brighten everything right up.
  7. Serve warm. Ladle into bowls and top with sour cream, shredded cheddar, fresh cilantro, and a lime wedge. Cornbread alongside is never a wrong decision.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 218 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 37g | Fiber: 12g | Sodium: 520mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 79 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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