Every month for over more than 20 years, a group of four friends have been visiting Springfield restaurants and taverns to sample chili. They've all become good friends of mine, and we've shared hundreds of rounds of golf together. So, I was very pleased when they decided to add me and another friend as probationary members of the chili tour group around five years ago. It was like getting asked to sit at the cool kids table in the grade-school cafeteria.
With fall upon us, it seems appropriate to explore Springfield's chili scene and our chili tour group seemed like the best vehicle to do so. Thankfully, the group's scribe has kept detailed tasting notes on a spreadsheet, which makes this an easier task.
I grew up eating pretty bland chili that was based on a Betty Crocker recipe. And when I lived in Texas, almost everyone served Texas red chili, which never comes with beans. But I was not familiar with Springfield's version, known as tavern chili (or chilli to be more precise, thanks to the legislature crowning us as the Chilli Capitol of the Civilized World). With tavern chili, the meat and beans are prepared separately. As a result, the amount of heat can be fine-tuned since the spice is in the meat. Also, a nice sheen of oil is required, usually coming from rendered suet (cow fat from around the kidneys). Tavern chili is usually thinner and soupier than most other chilis. But not every place in Springfield serves tavern chili.
Within the group, there are diverse views on what makes good chili. Some prefer a more tomatoey chili. (Thanks to these guys I learned that a blast or two of ketchup can salvage an otherwise unappealing bowl of chili.) Some maintain that all chili needs a hit of suet oil. And we all squabble about beans – their presence and quantity as well as whether canned beans should be rinsed or not. However, none of us like bland chili – which seems to be our most common critique.
When I am asked about my favorite chili, I usually respond that it's The Chili Parlor. It's good chili and you get your name on the wall if you can eat a bowl of the super spicy firebrand version. More importantly, it's also because it was my first bowl of Springfield tavern chili, which occurred in 1992 when I was completing a one-year clerkship after law school. Don't forget though, as one of our members says, "There's no such thing as bad chili."
Here is a smattering of tasting notes (anonymized, of course) over the last few years:
Brickhouse Grill & Pub, 3136 W. Iles Aves.
• Very hearty chili. I like it. "Everything that Tommy said."
• Really good mouth feel, got some fat to it.
• Very hearty, lots of meat, lots of beans.
• This is good chili. I like the consistency and the flavor a lot.
Cousin Eddie's, 1951 W. Monroe Ave.
• Good spice, good beans, maybe more meat. Overall, great flavor, ... it's a little thinner but I think it's because of the bean juice. Top four or five.
• Spicy. I like the bean-to-meat ratio. Starting to sweat a little bit.
• I think that is bean juice that you are tasting. I think it's pretty good.
• The red onions sweeten it up. I like the way the spice doesn't burn your lip and hits at the back of the throat.
Charlie Parker's Diner, 700 W. North St.
• Too many beans, crackers help, good size, good diner chili.
• I like beans. I like the consistency. I think it's good. ... It's like my mom makes.
• A generous portion of Tabasco sauce helps.
• I agree it's like diner chili. I also don't like the beans, too big and too many.
Route 66 Motorheads Bar & Grill, 600 Toronto Road
Main Gate Bar and Grill, 2143 N. 11th St.
Bistro To Go, Lincoln Land Community College