Chili Ghetti — The Meal That Waits for You When the Woods Finally Let You Go

Deer season. Took Rémy to the stand for the first time — not to hunt, same deal as dove: he watches, he learns. The deer stand in West Feliciana is forty feet up a water oak, and climbing a ladder at dawn with a seven-year-old strapped to a safety harness is exactly as terrifying as it sounds. But we made it. We sat in the stand, wrapped in blankets, and watched the woods wake up.

Rémy was quieter than I've ever heard him. The forest does that — it quiets you, absorbs the noise you carry, gives you back the silence you didn't know you needed. We saw does and fawns. A fox. A barred owl that stared at us from a branch twenty feet away with the judgmental expression of a creature who can't believe we're in its tree. Rémy whispered, "Papa, the owl is looking at me." I whispered, "He's deciding if you're food." Rémy's eyes went wide. I immediately regretted the joke. (He was fine. He ate the jerky I brought and made friends with the owl in his imagination, naming it Pierre because "it doesn't talk much.")

I didn't shoot anything. Didn't see a buck worth taking. But Rémy said, on the drive home, "That was the best morning of my life," and he was asleep before we hit the interstate, and I drove with the radio off and the windows cracked and the smell of the woods still in our clothes and thought: this. This is what Joey gave me and I'm giving him. Not the killing. The sitting. The quiet. The being in a place so old and so patient that your problems shrink to the size they actually are, which is smaller than you thought. Always smaller than you thought.

I always pack the jerky for the stand, but the meal I think about on the drive home is something hot and waiting — the kind of thing that’s been simmering while the woods were doing their work on us. Rémy fell asleep before we hit the interstate, Pierre the owl still fresh in his imagination, and I knew exactly what I was making when we got back: Chili Ghetti, the same pot Joey used to have ready after long mornings in the field, because after you’ve sat somewhere that old and that quiet, you want a meal that feels like a reward. It’s not fancy — it’s just right.

Chili Ghetti

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 lb ground beef (or ground venison)
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes
• 1 can (15 oz) tomato sauce
• 1 cup beef broth
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 8 oz spaghetti, broken in half
• Shredded cheddar cheese, for serving
• Sour cream and sliced green onions, optional for topping

Instructions

1. Brown the meat. In a large deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat, cook the ground beef (or venison) until no longer pink, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
2. Soften the aromatics. Add the diced onion to the pan and cook 3–4 minutes until softened. Stir in the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
3. Build the chili base. Add the kidney beans, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, and beef broth. Stir in the chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Bring to a simmer.
4. Add the pasta. Stir in the broken spaghetti, pressing it down into the liquid. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook 12–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until pasta is tender and has absorbed most of the sauce.
5. Adjust and serve. Taste and adjust seasoning. Ladle into bowls and top with shredded cheddar, a dollop of sour cream, and sliced green onions if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 680mg