By Valentine's Day is a holiday designed for people whose hearts are in one piece. Mine is not. I'm not bitter about it — I'm twenty-one and single and my best friend is dead, and romance is approximately forty-seventh on my list of priorities, somewhere below "pass Assessment and Evaluation" and above "figure out why the dorm shower makes a screaming noise on Tuesdays." Priya got flowers from a boy in her organic chemistry lab. They were carnations from the campus bookstore, dyed an unnatural pink. She put them on her desk and smiled at them all evening. I was happy for her. I was. I also went to bed at nine because there's only so much secondhand Valentine's energy a grieving person can absorb before it starts to feel like sunburn.
Curriculum Methods is becoming my favorite class. Professor Adeyemi has us designing lesson plans for hypothetical students — she gives us a profile, a disability, a set of goals, and we have to build a week of instruction around it. This week's student was a nine-year-old with dyslexia and attention issues who loves dinosaurs. I spent three hours on that lesson plan. I used dinosaurs in every example. I made a reading comprehension worksheet about the Triceratops. It was the most engaged I've felt in months — that locked-in feeling where time disappears and you look up and it's dark outside and you forgot to eat dinner. I forgot to eat dinner. I ate cereal at ten PM standing over the sink. Babcia Rose would have opinions about that. She has opinions about everything.
Nar-Anon on Wednesday. A new person came — a man, maybe forty, who sat in the back and didn't say anything for the whole meeting. At the end Pat offered him a cookie and he took it and his hand was shaking. I know that shake. I had that shake in October. You don't say anything to the new person. You just let them be there. Being there is the whole first step.
I made a baked potato bar for Sunday dinner — just me and Priya and two massive russet potatoes, baked in the oven for an hour because the communal kitchen has an oven that works if you believe in it hard enough. Toppings: canned chili, shredded cheese from a bag, sour cream, frozen broccoli I microwaved into submission. Total cost for two loaded potatoes: maybe three dollars. Priya said, "You should have a cooking show." I said, "My cooking show would be called 'What's In The Clearance Bin' and every episode would end with me falling asleep on the couch." She laughed. I laughed. We ate our potatoes. It was a good night. Good nights are still surprising. I'm trying to let them not be.
The canned chili that night was just a topping, but it made the whole meal feel like something—warm and filling and a little like home, which is exactly what I needed after sitting in that room watching someone’s hands shake the way mine used to. My mom’s chili is what I reach for when a good night surprises me and I want to hold onto it. It’s cheap, it’s easy, and it makes enough to share—here’s how I make it.
My Mom’s Classic Chili
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4 (enough for a baked potato bar with leftovers)
Ingredients
- 1 lb ground beef (85/15) or ground turkey
- 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
- 1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
- 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 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
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional, for heat)
- 1/2 cup water or beef broth
For the Baked Potato Bar
- 2–4 large russet potatoes, scrubbed
- Olive oil and kosher salt (for the potato skins)
- Shredded cheddar cheese
- Sour cream
- Steamed or microwaved broccoli florets
- Sliced scallions (optional)
Instructions
- Bake the potatoes. Heat oven to 400°F. Rub potatoes with olive oil and a generous pinch of salt, then pierce each one several times with a fork. Place directly on the oven rack and bake 50–60 minutes, until a knife slides in without resistance. If you’re working with a temperamental communal oven, believe in it. It will come through.
- Sauté the aromatics. About 30 minutes before potatoes are done, heat olive oil in a medium saucepan or skillet over medium heat. Add diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened — about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Brown the meat. Add ground beef (or turkey) to the pan. Break it up with a spoon and cook until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat if needed.
- Build the chili. Stir in chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, pepper, and cayenne (if using). Cook the spices for 1 minute so they bloom. Add diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, beans, and water or broth. Stir to combine.
- Simmer. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 20–25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chili thickens to a scoopable consistency. Taste and adjust salt.
- Set up the bar. Split baked potatoes open and fluff the insides with a fork. Set out the chili alongside cheese, sour cream, broccoli, and any other toppings you have on hand. Let everyone build their own. That’s the whole point.
Nutrition (per serving, chili only — toppings vary)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 620mg