Wednesday, May 29, 2019

A word about Texas, Lyndon Johnson, and chili


Big Texan Steak Ranch - the attached gift shop (photo by Brian Bennett Flickr: bk1bennett)
For having spent much of his adult life in Washington, DC, Lyndon Johnson did not much like the place.  The rough-and-tumble of politics was fine, but the place was the problem.  Johnson was a Texas man, and he pined for his home state - and his home food - every day he was away.  He often said that the chili of Texas is unparalleled and incapable of being duplicated elsewhere.  In his words: “Chili concocted outside of Texas is usually a weak, apologetic imitation of the real thing. One of the first things I do when I get home to Texas is to have a 'bowl of red'. There is simply nothing better.”

I had been aware of this quote for several decades when I found myself driving across Texas with Ben and the Ensigns headed for their training in California.  Texas is big.  Really, really big.  In our travels we drove from Southeast to Northwest and it took us several days to do it.  Amid the wide open prairies and tired little towns in the East we started seeing billboards for Big Texan Steak Ranch, Amarillo.  Home of the free 72 oz. steak.

I suppose most people look upon billboards such as these and just ignore them.  We, predisposed as we are toward ridiculous things, could not.  Amarillo was six hours away at that point and we knew that it was imperative that we stop there.  Along the way we saw our first oil wells and windmills of the trip.  Ben got pulled over doing 60 in a 30 (it was a sneaky 30) in a town named Quannah.  Quannah, and all of the other small East-Texas towns do not appear to have much going on.  They all seem to have an abandoned Main Street running perpendicular to the thru road.  These Main Streets are empty!  I did not see any tumbleweeds blowing there, but they would have been right at home.

Six hours west, Amarillo is a city somewhat resembling the State Route 1 portion of Rehoboth, Delaware, if Rehoboth were in the middle of the desert.  This is the big town in the area with shopping malls, car dealerships (all Ford.  All the car dealerships in Texas seem to be Ford), and restaurants.  Big Texan Steak Ranch is right in the middle of the action.

Dining Room, Big Texan Steak Ranch (photo by Chris Barsam)
The dining room is a large saloon-style open room with wagon-wheel chandeliers and deer heads hanging on the walls.  A raised balcony with additional seating surrounds the room on three sides.  There is a raised platform at the front with a six-top and above the table six large LED stopwatches.  The waitresses wear cowboy hats.
 
Big Texan Steak Ranch 72 oz steak challenge stage with one in progress (photo by Chris Barsam)
Our table ordered a wide variety of steak and chicken.  I ordered ribs and smoked beef with a side of chili.  The steak was pretty good, as you would expect at a place called Big Texan Steak Ranch.  But the chili!

Big Texan Steak Ranch Smoked Beef and Ribs (photo by Chris Barsam)

At home I brown ground beef or turkey with some onion, and then add diced tomato, tomato sauce and sometimes beans.  I use one of those spice packets or conjure up my own spice mix.  It turns out pretty good.  The kids like it.

Big Texan Steak Ranch - Steak Challenge celebration chair (photo by Chris Barsam)
This chili was not like that.  Once I tasted it, I wanted to ignore all the other food and order a vat of this chili.  The meat was plentiful, and consisted of small morsels that were pot roast-like in mouth feel but brisket-like in flavor and quality.  The gravy was thick and brown and complex.  The overall impression was of a hint of sweetness, reminiscent of the lingering notes of a sour beef and dumplings.  Beans?  I think so.  Covered in cheese?  I think so.  The best I have ever had?  I thnk so.

I have no idea how Big Texan Steak Ranch chili stacks up against others in Texas.  It may very well be average.  It turned out to have been the only chili I had an opportunity to try in Texas.  I hope to try more.  But one thing is for sure.  Lyndon Johnson was right.