My Dad’s Moose Chili (AKA the Only Reason I Ever Learned to Cook)

My dad not only fixed cars or that pesky squeak in the bathroom door, he also fixed dinner—and if you grew up anywhere north of anywhere, chances are you’ve had a freezer full of wild meat, wrapped and cut in all sorts of ways. At our house, that meant moose. And no one—and I mean no one—could turn ground moose meat into something magic quite like my dad.

This chili recipe is straight from his stained notebook, the one with duct tape on the spine and a splash of every meal he’s ever made. It’s simple, hearty, and packed with that no-nonsense dad energy: minimal fuss, maximum flavour, and always made in one pot because “why dirty more dishes than you have to?”

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🦌 Dad’s Ground Moose Chili

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: 45 minutes

Serves: 4–6 (or just Dad on Day 1, and Dad again with toast on Day 2)

Ingredients:

• 1.5 lbs ground moose meat (lean and wild, just like Dad)

• 1 tbsp olive oil (or “whatever’s not solid in the cupboard” – direct quote)

• 1 large onion, chopped

• 3 cloves garlic, minced

• 1 bell pepper, chopped (colour didn’t matter to him—whatever was cheapest)

• 1 can (28 oz) diced tomatoes

• 1 small can tomato paste (he called it “flavour glue”)

• 1 can kidney beans, drained and rinsed

• 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

• 1.5 cups beef broth (or a bouillon cube in hot water, “because it’s cheaper and works just as good”)

• 2 tsp chili powder

• 1 tsp cumin

• 1 tsp smoked paprika

• ½ tsp cayenne (optional, but my dad never skipped it)

• Salt and pepper to taste

• Dash of hot sauce if you’re feeling bold (he always was)

• Toppings: cheddar, green onions, sour cream, tortilla chips, or “just bread if you’re being humble”

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🔥 Directions (Dad-Style):

1. Start strong.In a big pot, heat oil and brown the ground moose. Break it up as it cooks—Dad always said, “Don’t be lazy with the spoon. This is where the love goes in.”

2. Build the base.Toss in the onions, garlic, and bell pepper. Let it soften while the house starts to smell like fall and comfort.

3. Time to dump.Add tomatoes, tomato paste, beans, broth, and all the spices. Stir it like you mean it. Dad never measured salt—he just knew—but I’d say start small and taste as you go.

4. Let it ride.Turn the heat down and let it simmer for 30–40 minutes. Stir now and then, but otherwise, just let it do its thing. Dad would go outside and split wood during this part. I watch Netflix. Balance.

5. Serve it up right.Big bowls. Extra cheese. Maybe a hunk of bannock if it’s your lucky day. Or just toast with too much butter, like Dad preferred.

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🧡 A Final Note:

This chili tastes like home, plain and simple. It tastes like weekends at the cabin, like the radio playing too loud in the kitchen, like someone checking on you without saying much. It’s not fancy, but it never had to be. It’s reliable, bold, and a little wild—just like my dad.

And yes, it freezes beautifully. But good luck having leftovers.

~smy