By The canning began in earnest this week. The tomatoes hit their peak all at once, the way they do — three days of nothing and then suddenly forty pounds sitting in the kitchen demanding attention. I put up twenty-two quarts of crushed tomatoes and twelve jars of sauce over Wednesday and Thursday, which is two days of continuous heat and noise and the specific satisfaction of doing something useful that will matter in February.
Patrick joined me in the kitchen on Thursday. He can't lift the heavy pots, and the tremor makes the ladle tricky, but he ran the jar lifter and kept count and told me when the lids sealed — that hollow pop that means you've done it right. We worked in companionable silence for most of it, with the radio on, and at one point I looked over and he was watching the jars come out of the water bath with an expression I recognized from when I was very young: the way he used to watch things he'd built or fixed or planted, that particular satisfaction of a person who finds meaning in made things.
I've been writing the August chapter in the evenings after canning — about preservation, about the conversation between summer and winter that happens in kitchens every August, about why it matters to put the harvest away even when you could just buy tomatoes in January. I keep returning to the same idea: that canning is a form of faith. You are doing work in August that is premised on the existence of February. You are behaving as though the future is real.
Tom called to say his second library reading — in Billings, at the public library — drew sixty people and a standing ovation. He sounded like a man slightly alarmed by his own success. I told him he should write the third book fast while people remembered the second. He said "you sound like a publisher." I said "I sound like Tom Whelan circa 1997."
Twenty-two quarts of crushed tomatoes on the shelf. February is going to be fine.
After two days of canning — the heat, the noise, the counting of lids and quarts — I wanted something that came together fast and tasted like a reward. There’s a logic to it: you spend all week putting food away for February, and then you want to sit down with something warm and immediate and a little indulgent, something that doesn’t require a water bath or a canning funnel. This Cincinnati-style chili cheese dip is exactly that kind of celebration. Patrick and I ate it at the kitchen table with crackers while the last of the jars cooled on the counter, and it felt like the right ending to the week.
Cincinnati-Style Chili Cheese Dip (Skyline Dip)
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 10
Ingredients
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened to room temperature
- 1 can (15 oz) Cincinnati-style chili (or your preferred canned chili)
- 2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
- 1/4 cup finely diced white onion
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Crackers, tortilla chips, or oyster crackers for serving
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9-inch pie dish or a small cast-iron skillet.
- Prepare the cream cheese base. In a medium bowl, stir together the softened cream cheese, garlic powder, cinnamon, and cumin until smooth and well combined. Season lightly with salt and black pepper.
- Layer the dip. Spread the seasoned cream cheese evenly across the bottom of your prepared dish. Spoon the chili over the cream cheese layer in an even layer, spreading gently to the edges. Scatter the diced onion over the chili, then top with 1 and 1/2 cups of the shredded cheddar.
- Bake. Place the dish in the preheated oven and bake for 18—22 minutes, until the chili is bubbling at the edges and the cheese is fully melted and beginning to turn golden in spots.
- Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and immediately top with the remaining 1/2 cup of shredded cheddar, letting it melt from the residual heat. Serve hot directly from the dish with crackers, tortilla chips, or oyster crackers alongside.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 430mg