Bold Bean and Pork Chili

August in Southern California is nothing like August in Virginia. Virginia August is humid, thick, oppressive — the kind of heat that wraps around you like a wet blanket. California August is dry, bright, and somehow tolerable even at 95 degrees because there's no humidity to make you feel like you're breathing underwater. Caleb loves California. At eight months, he's pulling himself up on furniture and making pre-walking attempts that involve a lot of falling and very little walking but maximum effort. The California weather means we're outside more — walks along the base perimeter where you can see the ocean, mornings at the base playground where Caleb sits in the baby swing and screams with joy, afternoons on the patio where the potted tomatoes are growing (slowly, but growing). I've been cooking California food. Not deliberately — it's just that the ingredients are different here. The produce is insane: avocados, citrus, fresh peppers, tomatoes year-round. I've started adding avocado to everything — sandwiches, tacos, salads. Mom finds this concerning. 'Avocado is not a food group, Rachel.' It IS a food group. It's the California food group. Soo-Jin and I cook together twice a week. She's teaching me Korean food; I'm teaching her Southern food. She made my mom's biscuits last week and they were GOOD — she has natural dough instincts that come from years of making Korean rice cakes. 'Dough is dough,' she said. 'It tells you when it's ready.' I made her kimchi jjigae (kimchi stew) and it was... acceptable. Not Soo-Jin's level. But acceptable. 'More gochugaru,' she said. 'And let the kimchi get older. Young kimchi makes weak stew.' Old kimchi, strong stew. I'm adding this to the journal of cooking wisdom, alongside Mom's 'the coating should whisper' and Sandra's 'cook until it smells right.' Ryan is settling into the new unit. He comes home at 6 — later than Lejeune but still in time for dinner. Caleb lights up when Ryan walks through the door, which makes every minute of every day worth it. The social media recipe posts are growing. I posted the short ribs recipe and got 200 comments. TWO HUNDRED. Military wives, civilian women, people I've never met, all asking: 'How do you make these?' 'What's the marinade?' 'Can I use regular ribs?' Two hundred people want to cook what I cook. The blog. It's time. It's past time. I need to start writing for real.

Soo-Jin’s verdict on my kimchi jjigae — “more gochugaru, and let the kimchi get older” — stuck with me all week, rattling around while I pushed Caleb in his stroller past the base perimeter fence with the ocean glinting in the distance. I couldn’t get her words out of my head: bold stew demands bold seasoning, no apologies. So on the night Ryan came home at six and Caleb shrieked from across the room at the sound of the door, I made this — a pork and bean chili I’ve been tweaking since Lejeune, finally dialed up to the heat level it always deserved. Two hundred people asked what I cook. This is what I cook.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless pork shoulder, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or more, to taste)
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 can (14.5 oz) diced fire-roasted tomatoes, undrained
1 can (15 oz) dark red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Sour cream, shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions for serving (optional)

Instructions

Brown the pork. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add pork in a single layer (work in batches if needed) and cook without stirring for 3–4 minutes until a deep brown crust forms. Flip and brown the other side, about 2 minutes more. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion and bell pepper to the same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Bloom the spices. Add chili powder, smoked paprika, cumin, cayenne, and oregano to the pot. Stir constantly for 60 seconds, coating the vegetables, until the spices are fragrant and slightly darkened. This step is non-negotiable — it’s where the bold comes from.
Add tomatoes and paste. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 1 minute. Pour in the fire-roasted tomatoes with their juices, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
Simmer the stew. Return the browned pork to the pot. Add both cans of beans and the chicken broth. Season with salt and black pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover partially, and simmer for 30–35 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the pork is tender and the chili has thickened.
Taste and adjust. Taste for salt, heat, and depth. Add more cayenne if it needs bolder heat, a pinch more salt if it needs lift. The stew should taste full and forward — not shy.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with sour cream, shredded cheddar, and green onions if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bold Bean and Pork Chili — Soo-Jin Said More Gochugaru, and She Was Right