Name: Best Beef Chili
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 1 h
Total time: 1 h 20 min
Yield: 6 servings
Cuisine: American
Ingredients: 2 lbs ground beef; 1 large onion, diced; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 2 cans (14.5 oz each) diced tomatoes; 2 cans (15 oz each) kidney beans, drained and rinsed; 2 tablespoons chili powder; 1 tablespoon ground cumin; 1 teaspoon smoked paprika; 1 teaspoon salt; 1/2 teaspoon black pepper; 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional); 2 cups beef broth

This Chili Is My Cold Weather Blanket

Alright, let me just say up top—I don’t trust people who don’t love a big bowl of chili. Seriously! There’s something about the smell of beef, garlic, and spices bubbling away that makes my house feel like a home. I always make this Best Beef Chili when there’s a chill in the air (or when I’ve totally forgotten I invited people over and need something that looks like I planned ahead). I remember my uncle trying to add cocoa powder one Thanksgiving, claiming it was the “secret,” but honestly? That batch tasted a bit too much like dessert for us. We still bring it up every year. Anyway, on to real-deal chili.

Why I Always Circle Back to This Chili

I make this when I’ve got leftover ground beef crowding the fridge, or when I know we’ll be eating off the leftovers for a couple days (chili keeps its manners in the fridge; some meals, not so much). My family goes crazy for this because I don’t skimp on the toppings, and, honestly, it’s one of those dishes that tastes even better after a night in the fridge—if it survives that long. Sometimes I get a bit heavy-handed with the chili powder and regret it, but isn’t that what sour cream is for?

Gather Your Ingredients (No Judgment Here)

500g (about 1 lb-ish) ground beef—you can use turkey if that’s what’s in the freezer. I do when beef’s sold out.
1 large onion, chopped (red or yellow; my grandmother always used yellow, but honestly tomato, tomahto)
3 cloves garlic, minced—you can use that jarred kind if you’re feeling lazy (me, last Tuesday)
2 peppers—bell or poblano, totally up to you
1 large can (400g/14 oz) chopped tomatoes
2 tbsp tomato paste (I’ll skip if I’m out, but it does make it richer)
2 tins (400g/14 oz each) beans—kidney, black, haricot, whatever you like (I once used baked beans and nobody noticed… until they did)
2 tsp chili powder (sometimes I just dump, but probably not recommended first time around)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp smoked paprika (optional, unless you like a little sass)
1/2 tsp cayenne (skip if you’re feeding kids; or my spice-phobic friend)
1 cup beef stock (but chicken or veggie has saved the day more than once)
Salt and pepper, plus a pinch of sugar if the tomatoes taste sharp
Olive oil, tablespoon-ish, for cooking

Let’s Cook This Thing

Start by heating the olive oil in your biggest, heaviest pot (mine’s seen better days). Toss in the onion and cook for 3-ish minutes until it’s a bit see-through, but don’t stress if it starts browning; it’ll just add flavor.
Add garlic and peppers. Stir until everything smells amazing (and maybe make sure you’ve got a window open—my smoke alarm is… enthusiastic).
Now is when you throw in the beef. Break it apart with a wooden spoon (or a potato masher; honestly, whatever’s handy). Cook till it’s lost that pink, raw look. This is where I usually sneak a taste—blame it on the chef’s privilege.
Spoon in the tomato paste, then tip in the chopped tomatoes, stock, and all the riotous spices. Stir. Don’t worry if it looks a bit soupy—magic happens soon. Here’s where I always remember to add a pinch of sugar—cuts the acidity, promise.
Time for the beans. Drain and rinse (unless you’re living dangerously, in which case, just tip ‘em in). Stir everything together. Then bring to a gentle simmer, not a wild boil—a lesson learned the splashy way.
Let it bubble, uncovered, for 35-ish minutes. Stir every so often so nothing sticks, and scrape up the good bits on the bottom. If it looks too thick, splash in some water. Too thin? Let it cook a bit longer.
Taste, check the seasoning, and pretend you’re not about to eat half the pot “just to check.”

Notes from My Not-So-Perfect Kitchen

If you use super-lean beef, the whole thing might taste a bit flat. I tend to add a spoonful of butter near the end; makes it feel fancy.
Sometimes I chuck in a square of 80% dark chocolate. Actually, no—on second thought, only if you’re feeling adventurous (and don’t blame me if it turns out weird!)
If your chili “tightens up” after sitting (my mum’s phrase), just add a splash of stock or hot water.

Weird and Wonderful Variations

Once I made this with lentils instead of beef. Interesting, but—bit too earnest for me! Chicken thighs totally work though. And if you like it smokier, toss in a diced chipotle chili (out of a tin, not the dried ones unless you really love chewing forever).

Do You Really Need Fancy Equipment?

It’s nice to have a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, but I’ve made this in my biggest frying pan when all else failed. Just be ready for a little more splatter—wear an apron or live dangerously, you pick. If you lack a proper can opener, those new pop-tops are a blessing and a curse… ever pinched your finger on one? I have.

How Long Will This Last? (Hint: Not Long)

Technically, you could keep it in the fridge for 3–4 days in a sealed container. But honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! Reheats beautifully in the microwave or on the stove. Oh, and it freezes well, too, but again—it’s rare we have leftovers. I think it tastes better the next day, though.

This Is How I Serve It (When I’m Not Rushing)

I love plonking a scoop over rice or with a warm chunk of crusty bread (or hunks of cornbread if I feel American that day). My kids pile on way too much grated cheese, and someone always sneaks chips in as an edible spoon. Please, please try a squeeze of lime and a handful of fresh coriander, if you like both. We once did a “chili bar” with every topping we could dream up, and it felt like a party, not just dinner.

Oops, Real-Life Lessons (aka Pro Tips)

I once tried shortcutting the simmer by cranking the heat; ended up with scorching on the bottom—and a bitter taste. Don’t be me!
Add the beans near the middle of cooking, not at the start. Or they’ll go mushy and blend into the sauce—unless that’s your thing?
Chop those onions pretty small if you want them to disappear; otherwise they’ll wave at you from the pot.

Wait, You Asked (FAQs Straight from My Inbox)

Can I make this in a slow cooker? Yep! Brown your beef and onions first (I think it tastes better if you do), then chuck everything in and cook on low 5-6 hours (or high 3 if you’re really impatient).
Is it better with fresh or canned tomatoes? Honestly, canned is just fine—especially when fresh ones taste a bit sad. But if you’ve got fancy ripe ones, go wild.
How spicy is this? That’s the million-pound question! Start small, taste as you go (learned that one the hard way after a double chili powder incident…)
Can I skip the beans? Of course! Texans would probably demand you do. I just like the texture. Swap them for extra beef or a root veg if you fancy.
Where’d you get your favorite chili powder? Usually just the supermarket kind, but if you really want to nerd out, check Serious Eats’ chili powder review. Oh, and for interesting beans, Rancho Gordo is a fun rabbit hole!

(If you read this far, you deserve a bowl. Or, if you want a fun chili history rabbit hole, I recommend this article from Texas Monthly.)