I’m opening the confession box again. Don’t tell Wendy’s, but I do not like the classic red, greasy, beef or pork and beans-laiden bowl of chili. It’s probably a crime, but there it is.
What I do like is a gut-soothing bowl of white bean chili that spreads warmth throughout your body like butter on a hot roll. Thick, creamy, full of savory promise.
This chili doubledowns on the comfort and decadence with a pound of silky, food coma-inducing cheese. (Out of habit, I almost wrote that it was “a pinch“ of cheese, but I think a pound is just a bit more than a pinch. However, my Southern roots have taught me that “a pinch” of anything gives you a whole lot of liberty.)
It’s a whole lotta spoon-delivered goodness that has the power to wash away those gray days and reveal the bright, beaming hope on the horizon. It just makes ya happy.
Tracing the edges of a pot with a wooden spoon takes me back to standing at my mama’s stove, gazing at the gold and amber dipped trees through a frost-framed window.
The world looks alright as seen through the wispy streams of haze on a steamy bowl of soup.