The regional table / Wyoming
Bison Chili
In Wyoming, bison is livestock by statute. Cook it as what it is: a lean red meat that will not supply the fat a chili needs.
Start with the law, because it is unambiguous and most writing about bison is not. Wyoming's statutes define livestock in several places, and the bison clause is the same each time. Under W.S. 11-22-101, governing livestock markets, "livestock" means horses, mules, cattle, swine, sheep and goats, and then: "Bison are considered livestock unless otherwise designated by the board and the Wyoming game and fish commission." The brand-inspection chapter puts the exception the other way round, at W.S. 11-20-101: the livestock board "acting in conjunction with the game and fish commission may designate individual bison or identifiable herds of bison as wildlife." Wild is the special case that has to be declared. Everything else with a brand on it is stock, and the animal behind the package in a Wyoming grocery is a ranched one.
That matters at the stove because of what the Department of Agriculture's own numbers say. In FoodData Central, bison chuck shoulder clod, separable lean only and raw, carries 3.15 grams of fat per 100 grams, with 1.34 grams of that saturated and 119 calories. Ground beef at 85 per cent lean carries 15.0 grams of fat and 215 calories over the same weight. That is not a small difference, and it is large enough to have legal consequences: under 9 CFR 317.362, the federal rule governing what a meat label may claim, "lean" requires less than 10 g of fat, 4.5 g or less of saturated fat, and less than 95 mg of cholesterol per 100 g, and "extra lean" requires less than 5 g of fat and less than 2 g of saturated fat. Whole-muscle bison clears the harder of those two bars. Ground bison is where it gets interesting, because USDA's own two entries disagree: the older Standard Reference record for ground bison reads 15.9 grams of fat per 100 grams, while a sample acquired in 2024 and published in 2025 reads 8.88 grams. Both are honest; they are different grinds. So read the label on the package in front of you, cook for the lean case, and add the fat the chile needs yourself.
Why this version works
Brown short, simmer long. Lean ground meat browns in about four minutes and then starts drying out. Get colour on it fast over high heat, in two batches so the pan never floods, and then get it into liquid. The hour and a half after that is not there to tenderise the meat — ground meat has nothing to tenderise — it is there to let the chile, the tomato and the beans stop tasting like three separate things.
Masa for body, not flour. Without rendered fat the chili stays watery no matter how long it reduces. Two tablespoons of masa harina slaked in water and stirred in for the last fifteen minutes thicken it and add the toasted-corn note that belongs in the pot anyway. Cornstarch thickens and tastes of nothing; flour tastes raw unless cooked far longer than this.
Whole chiles, toasted and blended. Four anchos and two chipotles, toasted for a minute a side, soaked and blended with their liquid, give a purée with body and a dark sweetness that no jar of chili powder reaches. It also means you control the heat: anchos are mild and bring the colour, the chipotles bring the smoke and the sting, and you can move the ratio without changing anything else.
The chile needs fat, and the meat has none to give. Capsaicin and the red carotenoid pigments that give a chile its colour and most of its flavour are fat-soluble; water barely touches them. In a beef chili the rendered fat does that job unasked. With ground bison at eight or nine grams of fat per hundred, nothing pools in the pan, the chile purée goes in dry, and the pot tastes thin and faintly dusty. Two tablespoons of oil or bacon fat, heated before the chile paste goes in, is not a liberty. It is the recipe working at all.