The Only Damn Crockpot Chili Recipe You’ll Ever Need

There are exactly two types of people in this world: those who think they make good chili, and those who actually do. I’ve spent twenty years bouncing between these two categories like a ping-pong ball in a tornado.

It took a divorce, one burnt-down kitchen, and one particularly humbling chili cook-off to finally figure out what separates the pretenders from the real deal. And here’s the secret: Great chili, like great art or a decent marriage, requires both structure and chaos.

But here’s the thing about chili – and maybe about life in general. You can follow every rule, measure every spice down to the microogram, and still end up with something that’s just… fine. Or you can learn the basics, trust your gut, and create something that makes people forget their manners and lick their bowls clean.

This recipe is your roadmap, but the journey? That’s all yours. Make it on a Sunday when the world feels too big, too fast, too much. Let it remind you that sometimes the best things in life just need time, basic ingredients, and the courage to let them be what they are.

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WHAT YOU'RE GONNA NEED:

• The Foundation:

• 1 pound ground beef (80/20, because life’s too short for lean meat)

• salt (to taste)

• ¼ teaspoon black pepper

• The Not-Optional Vegetables:

• 1 green bell pepper (diced like you mean it)

• 1 medium yellow onion (if your eyes aren’t watering, you’re doing it wrong)

• 2 cloves garlic (or 4 if you’re not planning on kissing anyone)

• Spice Cabinet Raid:

• 2 tablespoons chili powder (the real stuff)

• 1 tablespoon cumin (fresh ground if you’re showing off)

• ½ teaspoon ground chipotle (because we’re not animals)

• ½ teaspoon cayenne (double it if you’re not a coward)

• ¾ teaspoon smoked paprika (the secret weapon)

• Liquid Assets:

• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (yes, you need it)

• ½ cup dark beer (drink the rest while cooking) – alternative: ½ beef broth

• The Canned Stuff (Don’t Judge):

• 14 oz kidney beans (drained, rinsed, respected)

• 28 oz diced tomatoes (fire-roasted if you’re not dead inside – but optional)

• 15 oz tomato sauce (plain, let’s not get fancy here)

• Optional Upgrades (For Overachievers):

• 1 cup fresh corn (if you’re feeling wholesome)

• Brown sugar (1-2 teaspoons, for balance)

• Cocoa powder (1-2 teaspoons, trust me on this)

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THE ACTUAL COOKING PART:

• First things first, brown that meat. Get your biggest, heaviest skillet hot over medium heat. Cast iron if you’ve got it, whatever’s clean if you don’t. Break it up like it owes you money, you want pieces about the size of your thumbnail. Season with salt and pepper. Give it about 5 minutes.
• While the meat’s doing its thing, get your chopping done: Dice that pepper into roughly ¼-inch pieces. Perfect uniformity is for people with too much time on their hands. Onion goes next. Yes, you’ll cry. Accept it as part of the process. Mince that garlic. If you own a garlic press, I’m not judging. Once the meat’s mostly brown, toss in your pepper, onion, and garlic. Cook until the onions soften (about 5 minutes). Your kitchen should smell like the best kind of life decisions.
• Dump everything into your crockpot. Every little bit. See those brown bits stuck to the bottom of your skillet? That’s flavor concentrate right there. Pour a splash of your beer/broth in the hot pan, scrape it all up, and add it to the pot.
• Now add all your spices. The measurements are guidelines, not laws. Trust your instincts. Pour in your beer (or broth, your choice) and Worcestershire. Add all the canned stuff. Don’t overthink it. Stir it until everything’s mixed. No need for a workout, just make sure there aren’t any spice clusters.
• Set your crockpot to low. 8 hours is ideal. Put the lid on and walk away. Go do literally anything else. If you’re working from home, this is the part where you torture yourself with the smell for several hours. Go live your life, do your laundry, contemplate your existence.
• About an hour before it’s done, taste it. This is where you can add any of those optional upgrades. The cocoa powder thing sounds weird, I know, but it adds depth. It’s like therapy for your chili.
  
  If it needs a little something:
  – Too acidic? Add a bit of brown sugar.
  – Not deep enough? That’s where the cocoa powder comes in.
  – Too thick? Splash of beer.
  – Too thin? Leave the lid off for the last hour
• Serve it hot, and top with whatever makes you happy. Cheese, sour cream, crushed tortilla chips – this is your moment. Chili is like life – it gets better with time, and there’s no one right way to do it. Except for adding corn. That’s controversial and you’ll have to live with that choice.

PRO TIPS FROM A SEMI-PRO:

• If it’s too liquid, mix a tablespoon of masa harina with water and stir it in.
• Leftover chili is better than fresh chili. That’s not an opinion, that’s science.
• Keep some cheap beer around for cooking. Save the good stuff for drinking.

FAQ (Because People Ask):

Q: Can I make this vegetarian?
A: You can do anything you want. I’m not your dad.

Q: How long does it keep?
A: About a week in the fridge, six months in the freezer, forever in your memory.

PAIRS WELL WITH:

• Cold beer
• Cornbread (the real kind)
• A deep sense of satisfaction
• More beer

PARTING THOUGHTS:

I could tell you this is the best chili you’ll ever make. I could spout off about depth of flavor and balanced heat and all that food writer nonsense.

But here’s what I actually want to tell you: This recipe is sturdy enough to handle your mistakes and forgiving enough to make you look good. It’s the kind of food that makes people feel taken care of, even if you’re just taking care of yourself.

And in a world where everything seems to require a hot take or a hot minute, there’s something profoundly satisfying about food that demands neither. Just time, basic ingredients, and maybe a little faith that anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.

Now go make some chili. The world will still be crazy tomorrow, but at least you’ll have something good to eat while you deal with it.

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The Only Crockpot Chili Recipe You’ll Ever Need

Course: Comfort Food, Slow Cooker RecipesCuisine: Mexican

Servings

6

servings

Prep time

15

minutes

Cooking time

8

hours 

Calories

350

kcal

This is my no-BS depth-for-days crockpot chili that’ll make you question why you ever bothered with other recipes. It gets better with time and pairs perfectly with both beer and regret. It’s simple enough for weeknight cooking but complex enough to win over food snob friends. Just don’t tell them about the cocoa powder – let them wonder why it tastes so damn good.

Ingredients

• 1lb ground beef

• salt (to taste)

• ¼ tsp black pepper

• 1 green bell pepper

• 1 medium onion

• 2-4 garlic cloves

• 2 tbsp chili powder

• 1 tbsp cumin

• ½ tsp ground chipotle

• ½ tsp cayenne

• ¾ tsp smoked paprika

• 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

• ½ cup dark beer (or beef broth)

• 14 oz kidney beans

• 28 oz diced tomatoes

• 15 oz tomato sauce

• 1 cup fresh corn

• 1 tsp brown sugar

• 1-2 tsp cocoa powder

Directions

• Brown that meat, medium heat, big skillet. Season with salt and pepper.
• Thrown in your diced peppers, onions, and garlic. Cook for around 5 minutes – until the onions soften.
• Scrape up the brown bits for flavor, use a splash of your beer/broth to help. Put it all in the crockpot.
• Add your spices, beer, Worcestshire sauce, and canned stuff. Stir until mixed.
• Set your crockpot to low. Cook for around 8 hours.
• An hour before, taste it. If it needs a little something, follow this guide:
  
  Too acidic = Add a bit of brown sugar.
  Not deep enough = That’s where the cocoa powder comes in.
  Too thick = Splash of beer.
  Too thin = Leave the lid off for the last hour.
  
  

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