Dallas–Fort Worth, TXChili

Texas Monthly traces this chili parlor to Frank X. Tolbert, the Dallas Morning News journalist whose 1966 book A Bowl of Red was promoted with the first Terlingua cookoff in 1967. The magazine reports that his daughter Kathleen Ryan joined her brother and father in opening the family's chili parlors, and that a single restaurant remains, on Main Street in Grapevine. Ryan told Texas Monthly they serve north of the border chili there, adding the beans at the end of the cooking rather than simmering them in. Order that bowl of red.

The Dallas Morning News reports that little has changed at this Deep Ellum burger joint since it opened around August 1990, and that the Commerce Street Chili is mostly beef with a lot of powdered spices, cumin and pepper among them, plus jalapenos. Owner John Little told the paper it is not particularly exotic, and that you can now get a bag of Fritos with the bowl. A chicken fried steak buried under the chili, first asked for by a customer, is still on the menu. Order the bowl with Fritos.

The Dallas Morning News traces the chili at this Main Street cafe back well before Mike Snider opened the room in 2000, and reports that Snider says the recipe has been given the Terlingua seal of approval. The paper describes a meaty, hot peppery and salty bowl, and advises against piling on toppings, since it warms you down to the marrow without cheddar or the extra salt of Fritos. Order the Texas chili straight, in the small size or the large.

The Dallas Morning News writes that the sign in the entryway of this Design District barbecue joint tells you what you need to know, because there is deeply peppery brisket chili every day. The bowl arrives free of frills and condiments under a rim of bronze-red sheen from the brisket oil, and the paper suggests the soft hush puppies as the utensil. The Dallas Observer adds that the brisket earns its keep here. Order the chili with hush puppies, or add Fritos and make it a Frito pie.

The Dallas Morning News counts two beers in the chestnut-hued chili at this Routh Street ice house, Miller Lite and Shiner Bock, though it is the tender venison you taste first. Ancho and pasilla chiles push the flavor dark and smoky across a low simmer of several hours, until the venison crumbles apart and nearly melts away. The bowl comes in two sizes. Order the dark beer venison chili in one of the two sizes the paper lists.