Try a Tex-Mex Chili Dawg!

About author / Josh Gunn

Bachelor chef; southern cooking; mixologist; university professor. Josh's recipes will delight (and sometimes terrify) you.

Last week I discussed the "to bean or not to bean?" debate regarding Texas chili. I came down on the side of "no-beans," and debuted my own Texas chili recipe. My recipe makes a lot of chili, and as a single dude I ended up eating it for a solid week for at least one meal a day.

As a seasoned bachelor, I tried to do many things with it: I made a chili cheese omelet one morning (it was good); I gave some to the dog (he loved it); and one night, I made what I am calling a "chili dawg." I was so impressed with my new dawg invention I decided I'd share it ("Dog" is spelled "dawg" in keeping with the conventions of my home state of Georgia).

I cannot share the recipe before, of course, 500 words of chatter to earn my keep. To go off on a slight tangent: I thought I might tell y'all about the lovely bridesmaid I met a wedding recently with a foreign accent---but no worries, my bachelordom is secure: she lives 5,000 miles away. So, I reckon that's the end of story. Maybe I'll meet another beautiful lady in a terrible dress at this weekend's wedding?

But, back from the random TMI disclosure: I'd like to report that I surfed the InterTubes in search of other Texas chili dog recipes, but I didn't come up with much—certainly nothing as tasty as the recipe I made up. I did discover that "Texas chili dog" is urban slang for something altogether distasteful---that is, not the least bit appetizing---so let me assure readers by "Texas chili dog" I mean a hot dog or sausage in a bread bun covered in Texas chili, and absolutely nothing else!

As I perused the InterTubes, I also learned a bit about the history of the hot dog, which apparently we can trace back to Germany. Of course, there are many dubious claims by various Americans to have been the first to invent the hot dog; do we give a flip? No. What matters is that chili was invented in Texas, and chili significantly improves any hot dog. We Texans trump your Polish immigrant hot dog story. With pickles on top—or rather, dill relish.

Now, I also learned a little something about hot dogs. Did you know most hot dogs you find at your grocer are made out of--get this delightful name--"meat slurry," otherwise known as mechanically separated meat (MSM). That's like six letters away from MSG, so you know that can't be good.

When you're eating a hot dog, you're basically eating the kind of meat that meat packers couldn't get off the bones. They take these bones with meat on 'em and shove 'em through a sieve that separates the bone from the meat. In other words, hot dogs are not typically made of the finest cuts of pork or beef; they're basically meat factory leftovers ("Hey, Agnes, would you like some ketchup on your tube steak of cow lips and pig tail?"). This is why I prefer sausage or bratwurst, which is not typically made from leftover meat scraps. Of course, here in Austin we can get primo smoked sausage from Elgin, and this stuff—when cooked in beer—is simply divine. Once you score some decent meat and make you some delicious Texas chili, try this one:

Serves/Makes: 4

• beer
• 4 quality hot dog buns
• 4 quality hot dogs, brats, or sausages
• 4 cups real Texas chili
• 4 tablespoons spicy brown mustard
• 4 tablespoons dill pickle relish
• 1 avocado, peeled, pitted, cubed
• 2 cups Cheddar cheese, shredded
• 2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped
• 1 jalapeno, thinly sliced
• 1 medium tomato, cubed
• 1 small yellow or white onion, chopped finely
• 1 handful fresh cilantro, washed and chopped
• salt and pepper, to taste