RECTUM? Damn near killed 'em! |
When he threw in enough of whatever he wanted to throw in, he'd set it to simmer for a couple hours. Then we'd have a bowl. No cheese. No sour cream. He felt those things were for the weak. He would always serve a loaf of garlic bread on the side. The chili had heat and flavor. It was wonderful. "It's better the next day," he would tell us. He was right. A night in the fridge would take it to another level entirely. We'd eat on that pot of chili for days on end without getting tired of it. He never had a solid recipe for chili. He just had that base and sort of winged it. It was a little different each time, but it never varied too far from the base flavor. Certain things were off limits in chili for my dad. Cinnamon and chocolate were two things he would never put in chili. If it was served over anything, it was elbow macaroni.
If you don't love chili, you're probably a Communist. |
I love making chili. Over the years my recipe has drifted away from my father's. I add chorizo, take out the pepper, use cumin and liquid smoke. I play with a lot more seasoning than my father did. I make it hotter or more mild depending on my audience. I've made it so hot it's caused migraines and one unconfirmed death. I make it because it is a comfort food. Mostly I make it because it reminds me of my dad.
Good times!
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