The Red-Hot Chili Pepper

Less Artsy, More Fartsy

I love chili. I love making it, eating it. I love smelling it in the dutch oven as it simmers. There is some sort of joke in there about chili and dutch ovens, but I will let that one pass. It's too easy. My all-time favorite episode of The Simpsons is entitled "El viaje misterioso de nuestra Jomer", which roughly translated means "The Mysterious Voyage of Homer." This episode is full of inside gags and I love it for its outright Simpsons-ness.

Briefly, Homer wants to make his annual trip to the chili cook-off but Marge is trying to avoid it because Homer always gets drunk and becomes, well, Homer. She even goes so far as to cut out from the newspaper all references to the chili cook-off and takes up smoking in the house in order to throw off Homer's sense of smell.

It doesn't work. They go. Homer is immediately put-off by Marge's desire to enjoy the craft show- hence the line above "less artsy, more fartsy..." At the event, the townspeople marvel at Homer and his cast-iron constitution. The police chief is bent on getting Homer, well, bent and ads some wicked peppers. They are in fact "The merciless peppers of quetzlzacatenango, grown deep in the jungle primeval by the inmates of a Guatemalan insane asylum." Homer eats the peppers triumphantly with the aid of some candle wax to coat his mouth and goes on a long acid trip and meeting his spirit guide (voiced by Johnny Cash). The trippy animation is amazing.

There is a chili cook-off my church is having on Sunday and I am going to enter mine. This is a big step for me as I know what I like in food tasting, but I am just mentally ill enough to assume that my taste buds are different from all the other people on earth. I am also, therefore certain that the universal acceptance of my chili by my family and friends is a vast conspiracy. They really hate it and they talk about me behind my back. The multiple yearly requests they make for batches are but a sham. They throw it away as soon as I am not looking.

So this is a big step for me, to put my name out there on something that people I hardly know or don't know at all will taste and judge. Furthermore, there is a monetary component involved. If I win, the proceeds from the "box office" go to the group whom my chili represents, in this case, my beloved youth of the church. There are literally tens-of dollars at stake here. I may have to start biting my nails again.

I am fraught with concern. There are a lot of people over 1000 years old in my church, will my chili kill them? We are Methodists and so not predisposed to liking a lot of fancy seasoning- a good salty tuna casserole being about as wacko as we get. Are the 20 cloves of garlic and 25 peppers I add too much for the waspy decacentenarian palate? Should I dumb it down in hopes I appeal to a broader audience and thus take home the glory and the money? Or should I simply go with what I know and create my normal fire-breathing, ass-puckering chili that I am so well-known for?

These are all good questions. I guess it will all be decided when I go into the kitchen on Friday to create my monster. Will it be toothless or will it melt your teeth? Stay tuned to find out.

Speaking of Cooking

Emily roped me into helping with a cooking class this Saturday for the Cool Cats, the group of hearing impaired students she volunteers with and who are sponsored by the group of which Emily is currently President. I am looking forward to it and terrified all at once.

I am not a good teacher. I am impatient and move too fast. I expect people to know what I know and don't effectively communicate the tools that people need in order to learn. And I'm talking about fully capable people without discernible disability. What of these impaired youngsters?

I am sure it will go well and I look forward to helping. I just hope for wisdom, guidance and patience for the sake of the kids. The last thing I need is to learn the ASL for "I hate you, you make me cry" from a kid who was just trying to have fun on a Saturday.