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Got chili on my mind

It’s not as cold as it has been lately, still the temperature here in Southeast Texas has stayed less than the mid-50s all day. I suppose what I’m saying is I thought of, in those recent colder days when we faced temps which never got out of the 30s, whipping up a bowl of red. Yes, I am talking chili.

I learned long ago, when I was a young man who fought fires for a living, that there are all sorts of difference between real chili and the canned stuff. Actually, my Momma made a good pot of chili. I suppose that she might not like me bragging and perhaps would secretly feel a bit hurt, but I made chili better than Momma’s. My first bowl, when I used a prepared seasoning mix — produced by an old Nacogdoches football star in Chireno — was the best I ever tasted at the time. Then my friend Bruce, and sometimes even Waldo, would try to out-cook me. But they never did. Well, during those six or so years we had an actual cook-off, Bruce did manage to beat me a couple of times. I eventually grew out of a packaged mix. Besides Red, who made the mixture, went to that big chili parlor in the sky sometime back then.

If you have a need for canned chili — and I understand that sometimes it is necessary — you should buy Wolf Brand. In more recent years I would often buy Austex turkey chili. It was less fattening as well as cheaper. Wolf Brand always had the “brand” thing going. Back in the 60s and 70s this Texas Ranger looking fellow would come on TV and ask: “Neighbor, how long has it been since you had a big, thick, steaming bowl of Wolf Brand Chili? Ha. Well that’s too long.”

So, it’s not really cold, but I’ve been making chili and as soon as I look over and publish this, I’m going to eat a bowl. And you know what? It’s got beans. It has organic-damned chili beans in it. That’s why I didn’t give Bruce too much of a hard time the other day when he told the world on Facebook that he made some chili with beans. I once was a “no beans” chili cook/consumer. I figure a man like me needs to watch his diet at my age and condition, so I have some 90 percent lean and 10 percent fat ground beef. It’s cheaper than the turkey that the store carries and it actually has less cholesterol than that same turkey. Anyway, I recently had my blood work done and cholesterol isn’t a major problem with me.

Chili is a dish that doesn’t need meat. I can just imagine sitting around sipping tea with a bunch of vegetarian chili heads. But to each their own. A bowl of red, or two, has an amazing power surrounding it. I don’t know what it is other than being delicious. Though really, is there anything wrong with something that tastes good that you can make to your spec?

That’s a big thick, steaming bowl of homemade chili. How long has it been since you had a bowl?

 

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Complaints, I have few. I have almost none. Although, I probably ate too much today, the food being free and all.

Yes, I did take advantage of one of the several offers for a free meal from veterans. I just came back from the local Golden Corral. There was a large line as always for the chain’s traditional feed bag for Veterans Day, but these folks are pros and they run people in with military precision.

The food was good. It was plentiful. Above all it was free. So the fact that I might have chomped into a chicken foot … I am not sure it was a chicken foot. It was part of some Mongolian chicken. I didn’t say anything. And I am not taking the offending piece of whatever to an attorney. I didn’t break anything. Plus, I didn’t even know the family they sat me with even though they were nice. Thus, I was able to very ably sneak the fowl food from my mouth to the plate. But heavens to Besty, Come in Betsy, that’s a big 10-4 on that 10-10 aqui!!! I had catfish, hushpuppies, shrimp, a small chunk o’ watermelon. And not to mention, though I will, a small bowl of banana pudding.

One of my brothers was in town today for a short visit. His main purpose in driving three hours was to qualify at the gun range. He retired after 36 years as a police officer. Now he must periodically shoot to keep his special retired peace officers gun permit. He passed even though it was the first time that he had tried qualifying using his fairly new Glock semi-auto 9-mm. He packed a Smith & Wesson Model 19, which is a .357 magnum revolver, for most of his years as a cop. Old school. I would have liked to try out his new Glock, but I don’t know whether the range master would let me and I didn’t ask. I am just curious how my shooting would go some several years after developing a type of palsy. Of course, if you stand at the 1-foot line a mover and shaker like me should have the ability to hit within the target area. Or get a shotgun.

But just as good, shoot, better than shooting, my brother bought lunch at Mazzio’s. I had a salad and a small pizza as he did. It was good food, free, good to see my bro too.

So on this day we honor our veterans I ate. My brother is also a Navy veteran who served in Vietnam. My brother and I had originally intended to visit another brother, who is also a Navy veteran. But he was supposedly working somewhere in Louisiana. That means he sits there and watches his crew paint and tell them what to do. It keeps him occupied.

On this day, what I am calling Fat Monday, I am full. Happy Veterans Days to all those veterans out there I missed.

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The Barbecue State. It’s not just Central Texas.

Okay. I don’t have much time. That’s because I am hungry and I have a wonderful chicken plate from Broussards Link and Ribs in the fridge. It’s ready for me to eat and my stomach says: “Ya better do it quick, Mr. Smarty Pants EFD.”

Well! I never thought I was a smarty pants. As a matter of fact, I only wear pants when I work for the gub’ment. Well, that doesn’t mean I run around without anything covering my lower torso like Porky Pig. I wish I could. Seriously. But I can’t.

Texas barbecue has been handed this stereotype. It is all beef. And it is not very good unless it comes from within a 100-mile radius of Austin. Hooey.

I did my time in Central Texas. There are some particularly great BBQ joints. Waco had several that were good both in atmosphere and meat: Uncle Dan’s, Michna’s, Mamma & Pappa B’s, Jasper’s. In Llano, Cooper’s has wonderful eats from beef to cabrito. And yes there are the shrines to barbecue in places such as Taylor and yes, Austin. But Texas is a big state. It’s got different styles of barbecue all over. Best ribs ever for my money can be found at the Country Tavern, between Tyler and Kilgore.

We have our own style of barbecue in Southeast Texas. It’s hard to describe. Just shut up and eat! Broussards in their little green shack off 11th and Washington in Beaumont is a great place for all sorts of barbecue meat. Just go at a time when there aren’t lines waiting. They also have a place off Fondren and Sam Houston Tollway in Houston. Just down Washington from Broussards is another barbecue institution. Patillo’s has long been a favorite of mine. They had a place on 11th and McFaddin that I probably visited more often than my weight required when I lived near there in Old Town. But they paved paradise at put up something there, a Jack in the Box, or whatever. And then there was one. Greatest links imaginable at Patillo’s.

I could go on. There is good ‘que everywhere in Texas. You just have to know where to look.

 

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From the VA Hospital: Maybe there’s no free lunch. But breakfast?

Today was a long day at the DeBakey Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Houston. I had a five-hour wait to see the doctor. There was nothing that could have been done with that for various personal circumstances.

My 45-minute or so visit with the neurologist went probably better than any visit in a great while. The doctor has agreed to take me off the side-effect-ridden Cymbalta and put me back on another drug I once took for the same conditions. What was even better was I got the neurologist to put me in a consultation with a neurosurgeon because of my back pain. This would be after undergoing another MRI on my back and an EMG. Now I had an EMG earlier this year or later last year. I can’t remember. That was to determine problems with my hands and fingers, which was then diagnosed as carpal tunnel. I was given two gigantic black braces for each hand, both bearing the U.S. Flag. When I don them both, I look like someone gearing up for bomb disposal, such as in the movie, “The Hurt Locker.” The braces aren’t very practical for my work as I disarm or detonate very few, if any, bombs in my daily comings and goings.

However long it takes after all the tests I will consult with the neurosurgeon as to whether I need back surgery and, if so, whether I will ask for it. I see that as a long way down the line. I have decided that I need to try and access a better physical shape and improve my health. Along with that, I also should start thinking long and hard about how to medically retire from my paying job and determine how to live on however meager the pittance might be. Time to be a vagabond, perhaps?

As ridiculously long as the day has left me, I did come away with one of those head-spinning acts of humanity.

I got some bacon and eggs, a sausage, and a biscuit along with a cup of coffee this morning at the Patriot Cafe. The cafe is the dining hall inside the huge DeBakey hospital. They have about four cashiers who have customers paying on either side of them. I went to one of those tellers and only a single customer was on the other side.

I hardly noticed the other customer on the other side except to note that she looked as if she was a VA employee and that she had a small item, a coffee perhaps. I thought I heard the cashier ask the young woman if she was paying for mine too. I was somewhat stunned but figured what I heard must have been in error. The other customer paid and walked off.

The cashier turned to me as I held my plastic in my hand. “She paid for yours,” she said. I was then truly dumb-founded. I quickly turned around and saw the generous woman as she was walking out the door. “Thank you very much,” I told her, though not very loudly as I was still wondering took place.

“Did you know her?” the cashier asked me, about the woman. “No,” I told her.

Thus ended a long day that left me wearisome and tired. The mysterious VA worker’s generosity might have been misplaced or mistaken. Or maybe she saw the tiredness in my eyes. Or maybe she was just messing with my head. Be it far from me to look good fortune in the mouth. Or anywhere else. Including in my local VA hospital

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There are good eats at the end. Trust me. You’ll gain a few pounds.

It’s the weekend. Time to cut a rug. Or cut a tree. Or cut a big ol’ piece of pe-can pie. That reminds me. A week or two ago I had an appointment with my neurologist at the VA hospital in Houston. I stayed the day before at a hotel near the Texas Medical Center, where my hospital is located.

During that trip I managed to meet up for lunch with my good friends from Missouri City. That is a suburb of Houston, I suppose you’d call it. It is right next door to Southwest Houston, in Fort Bend County.

It’s been quite awhile since I’ve seen my friends Tere and Marcy. We all went to college around the same time though not exactly together. Maybe my friend Tere will let me write about how we know each other someday. If she does, maybe I will let me write about it. It’s been a year or more since we’ve all seen each other though. And I really like their company. They are some enjoyable ladies whom I am proud to call friends.

With that said, we met up for lunch that day before my appointment. We had not exactly decided where we were going to eat. Actually, we had not decided at all as it turned out. It was more like let’s go to this place and we ended up going to a place next to that place. Ultimately we chose a Pappas Bar-B-Q near Reliant Stadium, also near where I was staying.

As we were going inside, or perhaps as we were choosing to eat at Pappas, I told my friends I had eaten there long ago. As it turns out, I was wrong. I may have eaten at Pappas somewhere. Hell, they’re all over Houston, not to mention the Pappas Bros. Steakhouse, Pappadeaux Seafood, Pappas Burger and more, under the umbrella Pappas Restaurants all originating from a Greek family. Some of the family ended up in Houston selling beer coolers. Now the company is comprised of 8 different restaurants in 80 different locations in the Southwest, South and Midwest.

I didn’t know all that when I thought I had been there before and wrongly told my friends. I have been to Pappadeaux, located just down the highway from me here in Beaumont. No, I was thinking about another family which run the Goode Company.

The Goode Company Barbeque on Kirby Drive in Houston was the place I was thinking about. I rode there in a limo one night with some friends, one of whom was to be married the next day. I think our party lasted longer than the wedding did. Nonetheless, we pulled up outside and had some barbecue that night back in the last century. The barbecue was good. It was all good.

I have since been to the same good Goode barbecue place as well as the nearby Armadillo Palace, another of the Goode label. A very spiffy little bar and grill it is. In 2011 I would be made to move my pickup within the establishment’s parking lot so a limo could pull up. Inside the limo was some member of the Baltimore Ravens, who had beaten the Texans that next day. I should have just waited until I was finished with my meal. Or, until security came.

Before I get too way off track, as Tere, Marcy and I were checking out of Pappas we happened to notice these almost-larger-than-life desserts for sale. One was a cheesecake. The other a Pe-can pie. I bet five people could have eaten that pie. About one-fifth of that thing looked scrumptious. My blood sugar levels spiked just looking at them. We did not eat the dessert. We probably put on three pounds just looking at it. Just so you know, a whole pe-can pie is $13.95. You could probably feed a whole North African village with one.

I wrote all of this, just for the ending. Happy weekend.