OT - Chili Cook off

PhilsGrill

For those of you who have lived in New Mexico, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the Santa Fe Plaza. Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield , IL.

Frank: 'Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native New Mexicans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3.'

Here are the scorecard notes from the event:

CHILI #1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI

Judge #1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick

Judge #2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild..

Judge #3 (Frank) -- Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These New Mexicans are crazy.

CHILI #2 - EL RANCHO'S AFTERBURNER CHILI

Judge #1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeño tang.

Judge #2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

Judge #3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm suppose to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

CHILI # 3 - ALFREDO'S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI

Judge #1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.

Judge #2 -- A bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge #3 -- Call the EPA... I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting ****-faced from all of the beer.

CHILI # 4 - BUBBA'S BLACK MAGIC

Judge #1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge #2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge #3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. woman is starting to look HOT .. just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

CHILI # 5 - LISA'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Jalapeño peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chile using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the jalapeño peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them.

CHILI # 6 - VARGA'S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems too inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

CHILI # 7 - SUSAN'S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about judge number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing. It's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM'S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?

Judge # 3 -- No report

:laugh:

FlaPoolman

Hey Phil, here's another chili one

One Man's Good Fight

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented "You're definitely
going to $h!t yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful,
which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day
both of your a$$ cheeks WILL fall off.



Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No "Watson's
Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my
intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.



Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I
bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often
haunt in search of tasty tidbits.



Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and
began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was
at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm
referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always seems to hit us at the
wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.



The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines,
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one
step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it
happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.



There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a
noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was
afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly,
oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned
into it.



I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction
would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she
walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different
directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at
least will be able to relate.



I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked
into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible
that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward
off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me
laugh. Mistake.



Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down",
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth
from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the
store and firing off a shotgun.



Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through
the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying
that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.



Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable "Oh my God", floating above the toilet seat because my ass is
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle
of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He made a gagging sound, and
disgustedly said, "Sonofabitch!", then quickly left.



Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me
and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears
some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to
run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of
the problem."



That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!", then ran off
returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted
from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.



Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat
but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to
shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court
over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the
store..