W. C. Jameson is the award-winning author of 45 books and over 1500 articles and essays. When he is not working on a book, he travels the country speaking at writers conferences and conducting seminars in writing and poetry.
In addition to having earned his living as a ranch hand, disc jockey, dock worker, lifeguard, boxer, musician, college professor, and writer, Jameson is a songwriter who performs regularly at folk festivals, colleges and universities, roadhouses, and concert halls, playing the music from his four successful CDs.
When he is not on the road, Jameson relaxes at his Woodland Park, Colorado, home cooking and preparing new recipes.
ONE
the story of chili
Wish I had time for one more bowl of chili.
Alleged last words of Kit Carson
Researching the history of chili con carne can be a rewarding yet in many ways a troublesome and difficult undertaking. The researcher encounters a multitude of earlier efforts, most of which yield a number of contradictory claims. As with most histories, the difficulties arise in trying to separate fact from fiction and, in some cases, fact from legend. As a result, the serious chili researcher winds up being confronted with a multitude of theories relating to the origin of the precious brew. Strong claims for any one of the theories can result in disagreements ranging from relatively quiet intellectual discussions to loud brawls. Each combatant remains steadfastly loyal to a particular theory and cannot be swayed by the opinions of others. Nor do the debaters seem to be in the least bit influenced by historical facts.
Ultimately, regardless of the specific theory of origin, who prepared the very first pot of chili will likely never be discovered. Chili, as fans know it and love it today, evolved over time and involved the contribution of a number of different cultures and individuals.
During the early settlement of Texas and the Southwest, a number of literate and observant explorers, soldiers, and others passed through the region: the French explorer Pages in 1767; Zebulon Pike in 1807; German scientist Roemer in 1846; the intrepid Frederick Law Olmstead in 1854; and Benjamin Lundy in 1883. Although E. DeGolyer, the millionaire and scholarly chilisto, once wrote that this unique dish was likely started during the 1840s, not a single one of the observant and curious individuals who traveled through Texas and the Southwest and who wrote about the environment, geology, people, wildlife, plants, resources, and food ever mentioned chili in his journals and reports. If chili had existed in the region, it surely would have been noted by these chroniclers.
In 1862, Confederate soldiers assigned to San Antonio reportedly grew boisterous in the citys plaza and wrecked a number of food stands. Although several different kinds of foods were mentioned as having been ruined, such as tamales and stews, there was not a single mention of chili. Around this same time, a visitor to San Antonio named Sidney Lanier wrote in detail of the wonders and delights of the city, but there was no mention of chili in his pages.
In 1874, Scribners magazine published an article about San Antonio by Edward King. He wrote about a number of things including the great variety of food he encountered there, but chili was not among them. Joe Cooper once wrote about a painting by Thomas Allen, an artist who spent some time in San Antonio in 1879. Cooper notes that in one of Allens paintings of the plaza, something that looks suspiciously like a chili stand is represented. During a journey through Texas in the early 1880s, two authors named Knox and Sweet wrote rather critically about Mexican, Texan, and Southwestern food, yet there was no mention of chili.
In 1882, however, Goulds Guide to San Antonio mentions chili con carne and its availability at various locations around the plaza. This, as far as I can determine, is the first official mention of chili in print. Many years later, somebody named Frank H. Buschick wrote a book that included an entire chapter on San Antonios chili queens, the cooks and purveyors of freshly made chili. According to Buschick, the chili queens were in full operation in 1895.
In 1896, William Gebhardt began mixing the spices used in the making of chili and selling packets of them in San Antonio and throughout the surrounding area. Demand soon grew for his now famous chili powder, and by 1899, a full-fledged manufacturing and sales operation in the Alamo City existed.
In 1897, chili was mentioned again in print, this time in a novel titled Wolfville and authored by a man named Alfred Henry Lewis. In 1899, according to Cooper, a Mexican food restaurant opened in San Antonio that served, among other items, chili. The principal clientele were Americans. According to San Antonio lore, this is supposed to be the first Mexican food restaurant in the United States, though other cities and towns have had similar claims made for them.
The chronology pins down the origins of chili, more or less, to sometime between 1879 and 1882. Prevailing theories relative to the origins of chili have their supporters and detractors.
the new world theory
Peppers, such as those employed in the preparation of chili, are native to that geographic region called Meso-America, a vast region consisting of Mexico, Central America, and most of northern South America. This area was home to Aztecs, Incas, Mayans, Quechuans, and other Indian tribes.
Archeological and anthropological records note that the natives of this region regularly dined on chile peppers mixed with meat and herbs, and they apparently did so for centuries prior to the arrival of the Spanish explorers. This dish, which clearly resembled chili as it is known today, was a staple food of the Meso-Americans, who, in turn, introduced it to the visiting Spaniards. The Spaniards, unfamiliar with the capsaiscin vegetables we call chiles today, confused them with the more familiar bell peppers. Mistakenly, they named the chiles peppers, a name that has stuck over the ages.
Regardless of what the Europeans called the chiles, they certainly took a liking to this somewhat new and spicy food. As they continued their explorations and invasions throughout Meso-America and into what is now the United States, they carried along the ingredients and cooking techniques, probably adding a few of their own contributions to the pot now and again.
the lady in blue theory
One claim for the early existence of what seems to be chili or something closely resembling it does, in fact, come from a provocative legend, which the Roman Catholic church labels an old American Indian tale, that extends back to before the time of Spanish invasion and settlement in the western United States. A number of Southwestern Indian tribes told of being visited by a mysterious woman dressed entirely in blue. On these visits, according to the tale, she introduced the indigenes to the rudiments of Christianity and instructed them to prepare a glorious welcome for the eventual arrival of the Spanish missionaries. When the Spaniards finally came, they were mystified by all the stories about the lady in blue, whom they called La Dama de Azul . Missionary priest Alonso de Benarifes and the Spanish king Philip IV believed the lady in blue to be the spirit of Sister Mary of Agreda, who lived in a convent in Castile, Spain.
The story goes that Sister Mary entered the convent in 1618 when she was sixteen years of age. Not long afterward, she fell into a series of trances, some of which lasted for several days. When she finally recovered, she told of visiting a distant land where she walked among the natives and spoke to them about Christianity. With amazing accuracy, Sister Mary of Agreda described the landscape and inhabitants of the American Southwest and provided information about their language and foods. One particular dish she recorded consisted of venison, onions, tomatoes, and chile peppers, the earliest known recipe for what easily could be taken for, or mistaken for, chili.