Nourishing the stomach for combat

Everybody knows what a baguette is, along with the beret, an iconic symbol of French culture. Ten billion of the long bread batons are consumed annually in France and nearly everyone there knows the proper way to carry one and the proper way to eat one. But they may not know why the baguette is shaped the way it is.

One prominent view has it that the baguette was configured, per Napoleon's orders, so that French soldiers could carry it in their trouser legs. If so, that just underscores the truth of the Little Corporal's reputed maxim, "An army marches on its stomach." Well-fed soldiers are more likely to be victorious than ill-fed ones and bad food only compounds the problems a soldier might inevitably experience.

When we observe Veterans Day next week, that's worth keeping in mind. So besides paying homage to all who served our country in uniform, I'll remember in particular not only my late father, who fought in the Pacific, but also my late Uncle Don, who was an Army first-cook in Korea.

Uncle Don never claimed to be a gourmet cook, but he tried his best and occasionally achieved, given the circumstances, culinary triumphs, like the time one evening when he scrounged up some flour and lard and surprised his men with doughnuts. They gratefully gobbled them up right out of the fryer — so quickly the six gallons of icing meant to glaze them went unused.

My uncle never cooked a day in his life before joining the army, but he quickly learned how to fry eggs five dozen at a time while opening 50 cans of bacon with a hatchet. Understandably, upon returning home it took him a while to adjust to a civilian kitchen. One of the first things he fixed when back was a pot of chili to serve four, but which out of force of habit he salted for 250.

He probably would not recognize how military food looks and tastes these days. Granted, it's not quite haute cuisine, but it's a long way from the rations of previous eras. For example, the mainstay of the diet of Civil War soldiers was a hardtack biscuit, which lived up to its name. It had to be broken up with a rifle butt, soaked in water, and fried in bacon grease before it became soft enough to chew.

By contrast today's rations or MREs (Meals Ready-to-Eat) seem positively epicurean. Instead of the infamous chipped beef on toast, they may contain foods like pizza, spaghetti and burritos. (Napoleon would be proud that French soldiers have it even better. They customarily get cassoulet with duck confit in their packets.)

Not all dishes are winners, of course. Soldiers call the veggie omelet in a pouch a vomlet. But when it comes to "the eat of battle," American forces are better equipped than ever to develop the stomach for combat.

Updated GI Chili

The Army first published a recipe for chili in 1896, and it did not call for hot sauce. Nowadays, with Tabasco sauce the Army's favorite condiment (an 1/8 ounce bottle is in every MRE), it makes sense to include it. I don't know how closely this recipe, adapted from The Sriracha Cookbook, resembles the one followed by Uncle Don while an Army cook in Korea, but he would surely endorse the amount of seasoning called for.

• 1-1/2 pounds ground beef
• 1 tablespoon oil
• 2 chopped red onions
• 2 seeded and chopped green peppers
• 3 minced garlic cloves
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• 2 teaspoons chili powder
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 3 bay leaves
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon hot sauce
• 12 ounces dark beer
• 1 can (14-1/2 ounce) stewed tomatoes
• 3 cans (15 oz each) red kidney beans, drained

Season beef with salt and pepper and brown over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally to break up clumps. Add onions and peppers, reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring, until onions are golden. Add garlic, spices, bay leaves, tomato paste and hot sauce. Cook another minute and deglaze pan with half the beer. Add remainder of beer and tomatoes and beans and simmer, covered, for about two hours, stirring occasionally. Discard bay leaves and serve.