It seemed to take forever, before Marty finally called me into the kitchen. He offered me a bowl and a big spoon. I could tell, after my first close up sniff, that this chilli was going to be...hot, spicy, hot. I took a hearty bowl full, buttered some saltines (my favorite thing to eat chilli with) and waited for Marty to take the first ceremonious taste. He grinned a huge, proud, grin. "This is it, this is Marty's chilli," was written all over his face as he swallowed. I watched in awe as he downed the entire bowl in record time, sweat pouring down his face. Ofcorse the chilli was too hot. There was no way he could possibly be comfortably enjoying that spicy beef as much as he was trying to make me believe.
I ate a few bites, smiled politely, filled the bowl with crushed crackers and finished it, because I love him. And because I love him, I told him it was too hot and that his signature brand could NOT have celery in it. Who does that? Who puts celery in chilli? YUCK??? Okay, I guess lots of people do, but I don't like it. I also think it's weird that he put bacon and beer in his concoction (I know this because he was too proud to keep the ingredients secret,) but those actually added a unique flavor, the celery...not so much.
I started to make a quick skillet chilli for supper tonight when Marty waltzed into the kitchen, and totally hijacked my meal! He weaseled his way in by offering to stir the beef, while I made biscuits and before I knew it, he was chopping up celery and dumping Frank's Red Hot into the pan!!! I guess Marty is the official Chilli cook in our house now.
Wow, I just walked into the kitchen to set down my computer and go to bed. I walked in on Marty defrosting a chocolate bar in the microwave. Weird! So weird, I had to reopen this blog and share the weirdness...Marty is defrosting a Snickers in the microwave...I can only imagine the mess...