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The Best Chili in the World

Writer's picture: M.P. KiddM.P. Kidd

I’ve been thinking about my chili recently. I love my chili. To be fair, it’s really my dad’s Uncle Ed’s chili. He used to make it every year for a New Year's Party when he and Aunt Marcy had the entire extended family over. Everyone loved it.


He kept the recipe to himself for the most part - except for one person: my mom. His niece-in-law, of all people. I’m unsure why she was especially worthy, but I’m glad she was. After a while, she knighted me with the recipe - a piece of paper with the ingredients written in Uncle Ed’s chicken scratch. It had measurements like ‘a can of tomato paste’ and ‘green peppers.’ What size can of paste? How many green peppers? I guess that was up to me.


I made it my own over the years. I decided that 6oz of tomato paste was sufficient. I use red AND pinto beans. I skip the carrots and double up on the ground beef. For fun, I drizzle some Taco Bell Fire Sauce on top. After years and years, and batches and batches, it is exactly my favorite chili in the world. The right amount of heat. The right thickness. I don’t like it soupy. You have to be able to eat it with a fork.


I do it once or twice a year for special occasions like my brother’s bachelor party. Whenever I whip up a batch, I make enough to put into Tupperware containers and give it to the people who mean the most to me. And they always say thank you.


Twice, I entered into contests. And, wouldn’t you know it, it didn’t win either time. Not even in the top 3. At one of the contests, not a single person voted for it. Can you believe that? It's the best chili in the world, and no one voted for it.


Recently, someone told me that they read They’re Not Here to Save Us and they really enjoyed it, but they wished I had spent more time with the romantic storyline. They said it felt rushed. I thanked them for their feedback and told them I appreciated it. And I did. All criticism is good criticism (right?)


I thought about that a lot. How might I have done that differently? I realized that I could have taken my time with that storyline. But the truth is I didn’t want to. This story isn’t a romantic one. And that storyline didn’t interest me as much as battles and superpowers did. Right now I’m reading a story with an obvious enemies-to-lovers plot. The female protagonist meets the 6ft tall a-hole with a devilish smile, and she hates him, but there is something about him, but he’s the worst, but he has a troubled past, but. . . sigh. Just get to the fun part already.


My point is that if you want romance, eat someone else’s chili. Mine has double the meat and monsters.


Are you ready for that short story I promised? Let’s make it next week. Stay tuned.


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