Chili recipe once drew football fame

Those who didn’t make it to this year’s chili cook-off missed some fine tasting. My only regret is in not knowing how Mother Podolak’s would have fared. Hy-Vee, which once made Mrs. Podolak their “Chili Queen,” paying good money for her recipe, entered this contest with a dish that did not resemble hers.  It would have been revealing to see how the judges rated her old-time chili when compared to the modern chicken variety.

I gave serious thought to trying to find a sponsor and entering Mother Podolak’s. I decided against it, mostly because doing so ran the risk of getting thumped.          

While the chicken chili was good, and the United Group’s oyster entry memorable, they brought to mind a contentious cook-off we attended in Texas a few years ago.  Entrants were not armed, which was fortunate.  One of them brought a chili made with artichoke hearts and chicken breast.  A competitor lodged a heated protest. He was not upset that chicken/artichoke placed high—it did not—he was miffed that it was even allowed.  

He made an interesting argument. Chili, as he sees it, is the creation of chuck-wagon cooks of the mid-1800s.  Their ingredients were beef, enough hot chili peppers to keep it from going rancid—or covering the taste if it did—garlic, onions, perhaps a few wild tomatoes found along the trail and assorted seasonings.  Beans were served separately for a purpose; if the meat was over the hill there was something else. A dish made with ingredients entirely different might be tasty, the old-timer insisted, but should not be called chili.  

Tequila, he pointed out, is made with agave, clam chowder with clams, apple pie with apples. Chicken soup, in his view, is chicken soup. To call it chili makes no more sense than claiming a beef brisket is a leg of lamb, entering a bicycle in a horse race, or showing up at a poultry show with a rabbit. While he’d no doubt have been pleased that Fareway—with a traditional beef variety—took the top prize, I expect he’d have scowled at some of the other entries.       

For those who might not have heard the Mother Podolak story, a southwest Iowa school teacher, Dorothy Pont, married a farmhand named Joe Podolak shortly after he returned from World War ll. They had three children. 

One of them became a pretty good football player.  While Ed played at the University of Iowa, the family tailgated with a chili recipe Dorothy had refined. Later, when Ed Podolak joined Jim Zabel in the WHO broadcast booth, the chili became a revered tradition. Zabel, Ed Podolak, former players and friends, all gathered at Joe and Dorothy’s camper for their ritual bowl of good-luck charm.  

In 1985 Iowa, ranked No. 1 in the nation, played Michigan, which was then ranked second. When Iowa won on a last second field goal Zabel, as he often did, erupted with exuberance.  Thousands of listeners, of which I was one, heard Zabel shout over the airways that the Hawks couldn’t have done it without Mother Podolak’s chili. People who had never heard of Dorothy wanted her chili, and Hy-Vee representatives made a visit to the family farm.  

While we think her recipe, which I acquired from her daughter, is top drawer, consumers may have been less impressed.  The product sold for only a couple of years, then was discontinued.    

If you failed to get to the cook-off this year, make it a point to do so next. The cause is good, the tasting an adventure, and I may find a sponsor.  

Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.