Dr. Bachelor Says Ciao to Chow for Now!

About author / Josh Gunn

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

I don't care what "they"---the proverbial "they," the one's who supposedly know, those know-it-alls---I don't care what they say, writing is not "a lot like cooking." No ma'am. Writing is nothing like cooking. With cookery, you can make the same thing over and over, with subtle variations (check out my last recipe, yo!). With writing, you are not allowed to say the same thing over and over, especially with subtle variations (Okay, there are exceptions; in my line of work, some scholars can publish the same, social scientific study with subtle variations over and over and call it a career. I refuse to do this, however).

With cooking, you can make something interesting with the barest of ingredients. With writing, if you are out of ideas you're hosed. You're up a creek of bad, American chocolate without a candy-coated paddle. You're ready to be turned over. You're out of the frying pan and into a full-blown fire. In short, cooking is easier than writing. Take this column, for example: Dr. Bachelor is plumb out of ideas.

That's right, loyal readers (all three of you): I have run out of things to say. This is my 83rd column, and it's taken me a year and a half to get here. I'm shocked I had 83 things to say to begin with. But now, I must confess—in the key of Air Supply: I'm all out of stuff/ I'm so lost, not a clue/ I ran out of recipes to share/Thanks for reading so loooonnnnnnnnggggggg . . . . And so long!

I do have a lot of advice for bachelor cooking and housekeeping, but it really only took about fifty columns to dish it out. Then, I started writing about the recipes and suggestions of friends and family. When I ran through those ideas, however, I came up—as my namesake goes—shooting blanks.

So, it's the end of the line for me and our months-long study of bachelorology. It's entirely possible with a little hiatus, my store of single-guy advice will be replenished and popular demand will drive my drivel back to your precious computer screens. Until that moment, however, I bid you adieu!

Okay, not just yet. Remember what I said about variations on recipes? Well, by request I developed a vegetarian version of my Superchili recipe; there's always some meat-hater lurking about in my kitchens. And I tend to date these people. Go figure.

Serves/Makes: 6

• 8 ancho chiles
• 8 chiles various types owing to preference (pasilla, guajillos, etc.)
• 1 packet imitation ham flavoring (check the Kosher food aisle)
• 3 pounds vegetarian imitation ground beef crumbles
• 2 cups olive oil
• 1/2 quart tomato or vegetable juice (hot and spicy)
• 1 pint Shiner Bock beer
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 medium green bell pepper, chopped
• 8 cloves garlic, minced
• 4 tablespoons Mexican oregano (or more, to taste)
• 5 tablespoons cumin
• 5 tablespoons quality chili powder (or more, to taste)
• salt (to taste)
• 4 jalapeno or Serrano peppers, chopped (or more, to taste)
• 1/4 Mexican hot chocolate tablet, grated

***Optional***

• 2 tablespoons masa harina, dissolved in
• 2 tablespoons water

***Toppings***

• shredded cheddar cheese
• green onions, chopped
• pico de gallo
• cubed avocado