We've all encountered those cooks who operate on the maxim "if a little is good, a lot will be better," who never seem to know when to leave well-enough alone and quit while they're ahead.
If we're honest, most of us have been that cook at one time or another, taking a dish one step, one minute, one ingredient (or two or half-a-dozen) too far. But if we're paying attention, these moments of going too far can inform us and make us better cooks in the long-run.
But then there's the other extreme, the cooks who never go far enough, who've gotten fixed on a number. You know (and may also have at times been) that type as well: the cook taken with doing as little as possible, who is preoccupied by the clock and a fixed, minimal number of ingredients. In many ways, this extreme is far worse, because they never seem to learn.
On the surface it sounds sensible: simpler usually is better. And what's not to like, after a long day, about a dinner that takes a minimum of ingredients and fuss? Unfortunately, the reason not to like it can be twice as long as its minimal ingredient list. There is no virtue in a fixed number of ingredients that go together in a hurry if the finished dish isn't good.
Part of knowing when to quit includes knowing when it's not finished.
What brought all this to mind is our parish's regular participation in a program at our local interfaith shelter that provides hot meals for our neighbors with economic challenges. Our coordinator is very thoughtful about finding recipes that are interesting as well as nourishing, while at the same time not being too taxing for a team of volunteers with varying levels of kitchen skills and interest in cooking.
The recipe she had selected for this month seemed to check all the boxes: it had a catchy name (black and white chili), was simple (supposedly containing just five ingredients), and required minimal preparation (chopping an onion and trimming and dicing a pound of raw boneless chicken breast). Everything was dumped into a slow-cooker and left to cook for four hours.
Since not every member of the team has a slow-cooker—or, at least, not one large enough to make a double-batch—it fell to me to adapt the recipe for conventional stove-top cooking, adding liquid and a sautéing step to help the onion soften.
Right away my instincts told me that something was off. Not only did the yield (six servings) seem optimistic given the pre-cooked volume of the ingredients, there just wasn't enough flavor in any single one of those ingredients to carry all of them together.
It soon became apparent that, even with every member of the team doubling the recipe, we were going to run short on servings. And the finished chili wasn't bad, but it wasn't nearly what it might've been with just a couple of simple additions and a little more thoughtfulness from the author about her ingredients.
The author had led herself astray with two preoccupations: a fixation with the name "black and white," and that numbers game of limiting the ingredients to five. First of all, there weren't five, but six, since it called for two different kinds of beans. And though it was made with "white" chicken and black and white beans, the finished product was not remotely "black and white." Thanks to a fifteen-ounce can of tomatoes and hefty two-tablespoon dose of chili powder, it was, in fact, red. Very.
Chicken breast meat (especially on commercially raised birds) is not long on flavor to begin with: take away its skin and bones and, without adding a lot of seasonings and broth, it's going to be bland. Likewise, white beans can be delicious, but they're going to need more help than white chicken meat, a chopped onion, and a spoonful of chili powder (with which they're only marginally compatible) to make them sparkle.
The thing is, there was nothing wrong with the author's concept: a budget-friendly, healthfully lean chicken and two-bean chili was a very good idea and just the thing for a frosty January day. But she was far too preoccupied with names and numbers and not occupied enough with the most important part of any recipe: taste.
It didn't need much—just a more deeply-flavored bean than the Great Northerns called for, a little oregano and fresh garlic to bring out the chilis and deepen the chicken and bean flavors, and a few spoonfuls of chili sauce, which adds a slightly sweet element that really makes the chili flavor pop. We're having it for supper tonight.
Chicken and Two-Bean Chili
You can of course make this in a slow cooker as was the original recipe: Refer to the notes at the end of the recipe, below.
Serves about 6
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion, trimmed, split lengthwise, peeled, and diced small
2 large or 3 medium cloves garlic, lightly crushed, peeled, and minced
1½-pounds skinned, boneless chicken breast (about 2 large), or boned and skinned thighs, trimmed and cut into ¾-inch dice
About 2-3 tablespoons chili powder (to taste)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh or 2 teaspoons crumbled dried oregano
1 15-ounce can crushed fire-roasted tomatoes
About ¼ cup chili sauce (or tomato ketchup), to taste
About 2 cups chicken broth
2 14-ounce cans black beans, drained
2 14-ounce cans pinto beans, drained
Kosher salt
1. Put the oil and onion in a 4-5 quart heavy-bottomed Dutch oven set over medium heat. Sauté, stirring occasionally, until it's softened and just beginning to color a pale gold, about 5-6 minutes. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, about half a minute. Add the chicken, raise the heat to medium high, and toss until it's just opaque and has lost its raw pink color.
2. Sprinkle in the chili powder and oregano. Toss until the chicken is evenly coated, then add the tomatoes, chili sauce, and 1 cup of the broth. Loosely cover and bring it to a simmer, stirring occasionally.
3. Stir in the beans and bring it back to a simmer, then loosely cover and adjust the heat to a slow, steady simmer. Let it simmer gently, stirring occasionally, until the chicken is very tender and both it and the beans have thoroughly absorbed the other flavors, about 2-to-2½-hours longer, adding more broth as needed up to 2 cups, but if it needs more liquid after that, add water. After about 45 minutes, taste and adjust the chili powder, chili sauce, and, if needed, salt.
Slow cooker method: I still like to give the onions and chicken a brief sauté before they go into the slow cooker. Do step one in a large skillet set over medium heat, then transfer the onion, garlic, and chicken to the slow cooker and add the remaining ingredients, adding just 1 scant cup of broth (the slow cooker will need a lot less liquid). Cook on high for 1 hour, then low for 5-6 hours, or on high for about 4-4½ hours.