Things got a little steamy on Saturday night.
It all started innocently enough: Adam pronounced that morning that he wanted to make chili. When he said this, I shook my head a little bit and laughed.
“You? Make chili? Hah! I’ll make chili,” I said.
“You never let me cook for you!” He said. “I have good recipes, too!”
Things got silent for about four seconds.
Then, we both looked at each other at the same time and shouted,
….and so it began.
In true Adam and Jenna fashion, we decided to go big or go home for this little “contest”. First up was the grocery store.
Adam insisted we take separate carts and go separate routes.
I found him on the tomato aisle and tried to talk him out of buying the exact same chili powder and cumin that I was buying, but he insisted we couldn’t share.
I thought that was silly but I’ve learned to pick my battles.
Let it be known that my grocery bill was three times less than his grocery bill…..that’s a fact.
We both cooked at his house. I went first because in my experience, chili gets better the longer it sits. Our judges guests weren’t expected for another four hours and I wanted ample time for the flavors to settle.
Plus, it’s always best to go first in life. This I’ve learned.
In case you were wondering, I used my traditional homestyle turkey chili recipe. In my opinion, it’s fail-proof. It’s the chili my mom made all the time when I was growing up, and is chock-full of tomatoes, ground turkey and beans. Plus, it’s served over elbow macaroni!
I made my chili, cleaned my area and washed my dishes all in an hour, and then flounced on the couch to read for the next two.
Around four thirty, Adam was still glued to college football.
“Dear? Are you going to start your chili soon? Our friends are coming at six, you know,” I said as I flipped the page in my nine hundredth trashy Christian romance novel.
He just nodded. “Mmhmmm. I like to make things at the last minute. Don’t you worry about me!” He said.
I got back to my book.
Thirty minutes later and there’s cans everywhere, onions being chopped and three pounds of beef sizzling on the stove.
I tried not to judge.
The boys from Texas, after all.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but sniff the air enviously as I read.
Cayenne pepper…and lots of it.
But he was making RICE to go with his chili…..and I don’t know how I feel about that.
At exactly six o’five the doorbell rang. Naturally, we greeted our guests with homemade ballots, pens and sample bowls. The stakes were high.
And then…it was go-time.
On the side, we had Hatch Green Chili tortilla chips, saltines (??), and Nancy brought homemade cornbread. Bless her heart.
Finally, the group cast their votes….I forgot my number and Adam whispered it into my ear.
I don’t know where I went wrong and it’s hard enough to admit these failures on the internet like this for the whole world to see. I guess I should be thankful that I’m with someone who can make darn good chili, but seriously?
I’d like to thank Brian at this time for making the right choice.
I proceeded to sulk for the rest of the evening and dragged my chili-loser butt to a wine bar where I proceeded to stuff my face with ricotta beignets and flourless chocolate cake.
ps– we’ll be eating chili every night for the next four weeks.
pps–wanna come over for dinner?