Joe Martinez has finally found a hobby that pays off with his truck, Smokin’ Joe’s Pit BBQ, which features chile relleno sausage and chili with beans.
The family-owned San Antonio company produces the bulk, whole, and blended spices the state can’t cook without.
Polish off hearty chili and pickle-brined chicken with a latte at this Central Texas coffee shop turned barbecue joint.
A man now living in Fredericksburg wonders if his hometown really has anything to brag about.
Meat substitutes such as Beyond Meat keep growing in popularity, so we re-created a Texas bowl of red—no beef involved.
Hundreds of Whataburger meals, tons of tacos, and other staples to consider before this astronomically expensive meal.
Celebrate the start of football season and the last weeks of Hatch chile season with this easy-to-make crowd-pleaser.
Put that popular Christmas present to good use by making a comforting Bowl of Red. (By all means, ignore the Beans/Chili setting.)
A Sherman woman thinks the gravy-laden slab of breaded meat deserves its due.
Two Texan treasures come together in this magical dish, but it's not always easy to find. Here's where to start.
The perfect Frito pie awaits! Skip hours of cooking time by bringing home the brisket (and a few other key ingredients) from your favorite BBQ joint.
The official state dish reached its apotheosis in the era of San Antonio’s Chili Queens.
The original Tex-Mex staple dates back further than most historians realize.
It’s time someone had the courage to ask the most controversial question in the state: To bean or not to bean?
Preparing the perfect peppery pot.
Our estimable advice columnist on the origins of Hunt’s boot fence and how miffed we should get about pecan pronunciation, desecrated chili pots, and overenthusiastic, football-lovin’ grandfathers.
Lisa Fain, who just published her second cookbook, "The Homesick Texan's Family Table: Lone Star Cooking from My Kitchen to Yours," on her deep Texas roots, how easy it is to make delicious beans and homemade flour tortillas, and chile pepper injuries.
That barbecue is not Texas’s state dish is a travesty. Paul Burka first made the argument decades ago in his scathing article “I Still Hate Chili” claiming that “never has the legislature so abandoned its sworn duty to enhance the public welfare as when it certified chili as the
I was aghast when chili was first anointed our official state dish. More than 35 years later, my feelings about this greasy mush haven't changed.
World's biggest Frito pie? Check. Most consecutive back handsprings? Got it. Largest pecan pie? Indeed. But when it comes to some truly important Guinness records, Texas is playing second enchilada.
Frito-Lay and the State Fair of Texas set a record for World's Largest Frito Pie on Monday.
The Dish To stare into the glossy depths of a Texas bowl of red, with its heady currents of beef and blessed absence of beans, is to understand a truth about chili: It demands passion. In the history of our state, no other native dish has sparked such shameless boasts
No other dish provokes such depth of feeling.
A time-tested recipe that anyon who wants to learn how to make chili can use.
Food fight: The most ridiculous, overblown squabble this side of the legislature.
Chris “Whip” Layton’s Two-Tone Chili2 bottles dark beer (Dos Equis) or 2 cans (15 ounces each) chicken stock Juice of 4 limes 6 tablespoons Pickapeppa steak sauce 3 pounds venison stew meat 5 slices bacon 1 large white onion, coarsely chopped 2 garlic cloves, crushed 4 tablespoons chili powder 1
Yeah, that’s probably the right word for it. New York’s food blog, Grub Street, shows us nine of the city’s “most interesting Frito pies.”
Blogger Lisa Fain’s new cookbook.
Doesn’t anyone have anything to say about barbecue?
From chili to chiles, there’s a heaping helping of Texas food on the Internet, including cookoff schedules, mail-order info, recipes, and restaurant reviews. Dig in.
An aficionado of (gasp!) canned chili accepts an impossible mission.
Recipe from Cappyccino’s 5003 Broadway Alamo Heights
Fess up now. In your heart of hearts, don’t you hate it, too?
Out of the Texas melting pot comes a food hot enough to melt anything.