Happy Fourth of July.
America has had some ups and downs along the way to 250 Independence Days. And the lesson is that we always bounce back.
We were going to write a snarky, Rumpolian critique of the Declaration of Independence. But then we decided to shelve that brilliant piece of commentary for the moment and reveal something more compelling on the Fourth: OUR WORLD-FAMOUS CHILI RECIPE.
Yes, after decades of blogging and fending off bribes of all sorts, we decided to share with you blog readers the chili recipe guaranteed to make your guests ask for second and third chili-dogs.
The first part is the secret. Shhhsh.
Lightly oil a cast-iron skillet and once hot pout in one cup of all-purpose flour. Reduce heat until the flour turns brown and there's a nutty flavor to it. Pour into a bowl and set aside.
Use one to two pounds of chop meat (or more depending on the size of your crowd.) (Today, with bounce-back wagers on England, USA, and Portugal, we are using wagyu beef.)
Sweat some chopped onions and shallots and add the beef and brown. Add a few tablespoons of tomato paste until the beef has a red hue. There should be a decent amount of fatty juice- pour into a bowl and reserve. Once the beef is almost done begin adding scoops of the browned flour. The mixture will immediately thicken. Begin adding back the beef juices and continue to add the flour. Once the beef juices are fully incorporated, add a quarter cup of chicken broth. Continue adding flour and chicken broth on a low heat until the chili forms a smooth pudding-like appearance. (Pictures to follow shortly)
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| This is a classic Texas Chili- no beans. But feel free to add beans; cooking should be about creativity and what makes you happy, the best rules to follow are ....none. Enjoy! |
Season as you wish. We use ancho-chili powder, tomatillo sauce from a jar (fresh tomatillos are also delicious and we use them when we remember to buy them) and various canned chili peppers, pouring in the juice with the chilis. Want to be radical? Add a half a can of beer, or more!
Cover on lowest heat and let sit a few hours. Turn heat all the way off after about 45 minutes.
Cook your dogs and burgers and generously ladle on the chili, along with cheddar cheese, raw onions, and enjoy with a cold beer. Lately (since January 1 actually) we have been enjoying the Athletic brand of non-alcoholic beers.
In our gym the other day we sparked a heated debate over the use of ketchup on hot dogs. Rumpole does a line of ketchup, a line of mustard, and a thin sliced pickle on a seeded bun.
Happy Fourth of July.
8 comments:
No relish or sauerkraut?
There's only so much a bun can hold. I eat a lot of sauerkraut for the probiotics, but don't love it on a hot dog. Usually I have sauerkraut with some meat and /or potatoes with a dash of mustard. Sometimes for special dietary issues I don't want to get into now, I'll just have a few forkfuls.
Thanks for the post today Rump. I was hoping you posted something. You're truly a talented writer. Keep it up please.
Rump my GF and I are on my boat at the Coconut Grove marina sipping Chardonnay, eating cold lobster and watching Paraguay v France. And we can’t stop saying Mbappe. Over and over. Laughing more and more end I’m sure the wine is causing some of this. What do you think about us adopting a dog from the Shelter snd calling it Mbappe? We think it’s a no brainer. And Bop for short right ?
TIME CAPSULE PRACTICE
America turned 250.
We responded by filing something.
Naturally.
America250 has buried — or, in government-speak, “dedicated” — a 900-pound stainless-steel time capsule in Philadelphia, to be opened in 2276, assuming Philadelphia is still above water, Independence Hall still has jurisdiction, and some future clerk can find the key. The capsule is meant to preserve what America looked like in 2026: letters, artifacts, civic optimism, state submissions, federal submissions, and the usual proof that committees, when given enough time, will eventually seal something in metal.
We submitted a transcript.
Not a flag.
Not a commemorative coin.
Not a QR code to a podcast.
A transcript.
From one of our best closing arguments.
Because when future Americans crack open the great steel cylinder in 2276, they should know something important about us:
We argued.
We stood up.
We said “May it please the Court” even when it did not.
We explained reasonable doubt to people who did not want a lecture but needed one.
We objected.
We were overruled.
We preserved the record anyway.
There are worse things to leave behind.
The archaeologists of 2276 will find many clues about our time. They will see that Arizona nano-etched the Declaration and Constitution onto a coin. Maine sent a whale bone. Arkansas sent a diamond. California, because of course California, submitted an AI-generated prediction of its future.
And somewhere, we hope, there will be our transcript.
A lawyer on his feet.
A jury listening.
A client waiting.
The State asking for punishment.
The defense asking for doubt.
The whole messy miracle of the American courtroom reduced to paper, ink, and cadence.
Future America, take note: this is how we did it before holograms, neural briefs, and appellate drones.
We had six to twelve citizens.
We had a judge.
We had lawyers.
We had facts.
And then we had the most dangerous thing in any courthouse:
A closing argument that worked.
No batteries required.
No subscription fee.
No “terms and conditions updated.”
Just words.
Which, in the right hands, remain undefeated.
We are told the capsule is to be opened on July 4, 2276. A bold assumption. By then, Miami may be Venice, Broward may be a constitutional monarchy, and the Eleventh Judicial Circuit may still be trying to upgrade CJIS.
But if some future American pulls out our transcript and reads it aloud, here is our request:
Read it slowly.
Do not skim the burden of proof.
Do not rush the pause before the theme.
And for God’s sake, do not let the prosecutor interrupt.
This is not merely nostalgia. It is evidence.
Evidence that trial law was still alive in 2026.
Evidence that liberty was still defended one courtroom at a time.
Evidence that when the government accused, someone answered.
Not with slogans.
Not with tweets.
With a closing.
We approve this submission.
to be continued...
Now, about the weekend.
Your humble correspondent is holidaying in the Hamptons, because nothing says “America 250” like traffic on the LIE, linen pants, and paying Manhattan prices while pretending one has escaped Manhattan.
We conducted a full evidentiary hearing on the question of the best restaurant.
The Court considered Vogue, local custom, reservation scarcity, social meaning, East Hampton precedent, and whether the restaurant could survive cross-examination.
The ruling:
Nick & Toni’s.
East Hampton.
The institution.
The mothership.
The place where a reservation is not dinner so much as standing. Vogue says you cannot miss it. Social Life calls it the Hamptons’ living room and the institution that never stopped being right. Nick & Toni’s itself confirms the essential jurisdictional facts: 136 North Main Street, East Hampton, dinner nightly, online reservations.
The State may argue 1770 House.
Denied.
The defense may suggest Le Bilboquet.
Lovely. French. Sustained in part.
But for the full Hamptons experience — social X-ray, branzino, whispered recognitions, and a table that says more than your pleadings — Nick & Toni’s is the verdict.
So this weekend we commemorate the Republic in the proper manner:
By sending a closing argument to 2276.
Then having dinner in East Hampton.
Future Americans, when you read our transcript, know this:
We were not perfect.
We were not always wise.
We were frequently late.
But we knew how to stand between a person and the power of the State.
And occasionally, after doing so, we knew where to eat.
See you in 2276.
Rumpole did you read the letter signed by a bunch of lawyers about the call to impeach Judge De La O.....how many judges these days would have the guts to NGI a defendant who killed a baby....I think only Thomas, Milian, Hersch, Hirsch, Venzer, Sayfie, Cueto....the rest are cowards and the attorney general is making them more cowardly
Hot seat someone is on the hot seat.
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