Chili’s great because you can fix it up based on just about anything you got in your cupboard. Sure they’re some people that say chili specifically should be this or absolutely has to be that but I can’t really agree. It’s just a loose term, chili is what you want it to be, and I believe in you. I believe in you. We’re friends. It’s okay.
I just scrounged up what I had that fit the vague criteria of “chili”.
Let’s see, here, got some hot peppers I bought I think back in july hope they’re not molded. Got mustard both dry and moist.
Normally I would use a chili seasoning packet since they’re only like 50 cents and make it chili but I didn’t feel like running out the store so I’m hoping this hodge and podge of seasonings I have will do.
Big can of tomoatoes has been perched atop my pantry for eons like a savage crow cawing at the essence of my being like mount everest like everything i should have but didn’t do in my life because it hought i wasn’t great enough
Oh yeah, two meats. Gotta have two meats.
~ Dr. Robotnik
Fix up a general chili seasoning packet of your own in a bowl, or just get a packet, fuck. Chili powder and cumin are mainly responsible for making chili taste like chili so you should use them with a heavy hand. Other than that add whatever you thin makes sense.
Now I guess as long as we’re prepping like good cheffs and cheffettes we should get our beans ready, our tomatoes ready, our -wait
oh
Oh no
The can opener has failed, that which we place so much of our physical and psychological security into. The mental levies that defend us from the floods of darkness have not just failed, but burst. They have exploded in a fantastic display of failure, the can opener has failed
The dark prince tomato can continues to laugh upon my soul, even after I sentenced it to death – sentenced it to death – it is still alive as it breaks the implements designed solely to defeat it. It has shredded our most noble of offenses.
But I have something, something up my sleeve, something they call my beta carotene
I draw the knife from its holy scabbard and attack the tomato can in a desperate yet calculated strike, more brutal than calculated, black amps tear the skies. The tomato can attempts to disguise its pain as it resists my barrage of attacks, but I grant it no palaver, no quarter, for in my righteous pursuit of the greater good I know I have the cosmic ballet of time on my side, yes, and so I drive the blade into the tomato cans perimeter.
It tries to haunt me again, with edges of sharpened point, with tomato juice flying about!
But I do not yield, for my fight is good.
And after many half a moon I have slayed the beast, but at what cost?
I
I came here to share a chili recipe, but what have I done?
I originally intended to only use one half, one third of the giant tomato can in my pot of chili, but in my barbarian rage I poured all of the contents into the simmering pot.
I wash my hands. I shed a tear. I pray.
I am overtaken by a fear of the demon can possessing some innocent post-consumer recycled aluminum product, so I do not recycle it. Straight into the trash it goes, and I wash my hands, I spray it with bleach, I wash my hands.
Keep on Chooglin.