It is going to snow so let’s make some chili!

At least once a year I get a wild hare and decide when I know I will be restricted from outdoors to cook in the kitchen. Seems like a good idea until…

So the predictions are in and the cold white stuff is on the way. Will it be a dusting or a layer of winter no one can tell so I wander to the Tummy Temple on a mission to get the ingredients for a big pot of chili?

The idea is to make a slo-cooker of stuff that I can consume while watching the flakes come down but I don’t cook much so the simple recipe that is not followed becomes folly.

Still the day is sunny and I was able to leave the abode before the sunset to accumulate the ingredients that I thought might be good in a big pot of chili. Beans and beef.

I did make a big pot of goodness back in the early 80’s and will try to remember what to put in the cart to replicate that memorable taste. I do remember there was a lot of beer used so that will be the first stop. I stop to talk to Allen (my wine guy) and gather up a couple bottles of mead and some ale but can’t figure what would be good to soak the dead animal parts in. Black and Tan? Heineken? Settle on Sam Adams.

Two cans of dark red kidney beans, 2- onions, celery, 2-cans of tomatoes and some peppers fill the basket.

Onto the slaughterhouse that seems very popular.

Here is a package of chunks of dead cow and another package of grounded up cow. Is that enough? Or too much?

I don’t have to wait in line long because Chris hops behind the register and I’m #1 on the hit list. He tells me the Temple is OUT OF MILK. We have a good chuckle as I swipe my card for a total not often seen.

Some ingenious packing and a welcomed visit from my previous lunch date with Joel’s main squeeze and wait for the traffic to thin. Hope I get home because I’m carrying a lot of weight.

My dependable pony gets the load home and I change into my casual attire to plan the evening’s meal. Junk mail and someone’s left over egg carton before closing off the southern view of the world. Open the buffets for the critters and wander into Who-Land.

Recycle the boxes and wrappers for the new vac and spray washer then wander in before the snow arrives.

Do I wait until tomorrow or start tonight? Patience is a virtue and I don’t have many of those so lets get started.

Dust off the slo-cooker and pour in the tomatoes and beans and put the meat chunks in the other big pot never used. Add the peppers and onions and brown before transferring to the slo-cooker. Looks like it is going to be a tight squeeze. “It will cook down” I tell myself.

With two pots cooking, add the hamburger that looks like more than I thought at the store but drown that in some beer and look here, a bottle of ‘What’s this here?’ sauce so empty that in there.

As all good meals (and wine) must combine and ferment and settle so they are left alone to do what they do. Smells good.

Back to wandering the web and having some more sauce that didn’t make the pot when the question is asked…. “What about the celery?”

Back into the kitchen to unfridge the green stalks and chop them into eatable size for a bit of crunch and give both pots a stir. Take the top off that one so the liquid can reduce. Doesn’t that sound like I know what I’m doing?

Put the cans into the recycle bag that is a new technique to make me feel better about taking care of the earth and give another stir. It has only been an hour since I started but it sure looks good. Can I resist digging in before all the flavors have melted into the chili I anticipate?

I’m not a fan of garlic but I look in the cabinet and there is parsley. I read somewhere that parsley (like pepper) has no calories so dump a bottle of that stuff in there. Looks greener now. There is this other jar of some sort of rubbing ingredients for grill cooking dead animal. What the heck, toss that in there too?

Back to the music of the ’56 Desoto’s garage bands and wait some more for the snow to arrive. My plan is to shut everything off at the midnight hour and let all the ingredients absorb the juices.

If it doesn’t taste good for breakfast, then heat it back up, scrap off the grease scrum and give another stir. Whatever this turns out to be, I’ll eat it. I paid for it so I’ll eat it. Add a dash of salt and pepper and some more hot sauce and blame the cook with another toast of wine.