As my graceful fingers are dancing on the keyboard creating this story, I have a batch of my famous "Hotsy Totsy Chili" simmering on the range in a big stainless steel pot (aluminum pots become pitted after a few batches of my chili.) I always make this when the weather turns cold, such as it has now. Since I have some time to kill while it is simmering, I thought I would write about my experiences over the years with chili.

 

My chili is not for the faint of heart or for anyone who has any respect for their stomach. The recipe is uniquely mine and has evolved over years of trial and error. One of my secret ingredients is homegrown habanero peppers, which are the hottest peppers in the world. I have to keep my chili recipe secret because if it leaked out, there would be a vast increase in illegal Mexican immigrants who would attempt to get to Ohio and try to get my recipe. If they made it here, I would let them taste a sample. After sampling it, I think my chili would even be too hot for them! Say, that could be the answer to the illegal Mexican immigration problem. One taste of my chili and they will run all the way back down back over the Mexican border with their mouths smoking all the way! Over the years, I've entertained thoughts of entering my chili in a "Chili Cook-off Contest". However, I thought it best not to due to the fact that after the judges tasted it, the EM Squad would have to take them to the nearest hospital for an emergency mouth, esophagus, and stomach skin graft. The reason I am safe is because after years of eating my chili, my mouth, esophagus, and stomach are all coated with tough scar tissue and the nerve tissue has completely dissolved away. However, it does tend dissolve all of the fillings from my teeth. Whenever I go to my dentist to get all the fillings replaced, she always states, "I see you've made another batch of your chili again." J As this latest batch is simmering and taking the enamel coating off the top of the range, I took a little trip down memory lane on the subject of my experiences with chili.  

 

My first noteworthy chili experience was in our school cafeteria. Chili was always offered in case some kid didn't care for the main menu and/or desired just chili. Oddly enough, when we were in grade school, we had to bring a note from home with permission to get just chili instead of the main menu. If any guy would get just chili, he was considered lucky and "cool" and was popular and held in awe by the rest of us grade school boys. When my craving for wanting to be popular grew too overpowering (which was constant), I would con my mother into giving me a note so I could get just chili that day for lunch under the guise of stating I wasn't fond of the menu that day. She usually offered to pack my lunch if I said I didn't care for the lunch menu that day. A boy carrying a lunchbox to school was definitely not cool anytime after the third grade so I had to use my smoothest eloquence to finally convince my mother to write me the coveted "Chili Permission Note". When I had it in my pocket, I just couldn't wait for lunch to start so I could be "cool" and lucky and popular, at least until lunch was over. The school chili was very good and whenever I could con my mother for a coveted "Chili Permission Note", I was very excited, since I would be popular for at least 15 minutes during lunch; or longer if I stretched my temporary popularity by flaunting my "Chili Permission Note" all morning before lunch.

 

By the time I got to high school, it was definitely not cool for any guy that had any masculine aspirations to eat lunch in the school cafeteria. Besides, they didn't offer chili as an alternative after the new cafeteria was built. Moreover, carrying your lunch and eating it in the cafeteria was only done by "sissy" guys and would have been unthinkable for any of us regular guys. In high school, we didn't need a note to go to town during lunch hour as we did in grade school. I guess by the time we were in high school, the school officials assumed we were old enough to be responsible. How wrong and misguided they were! Quite often, I went to Bar 61 for lunch to get a bowl of Chuck Nottke's famous chili. That was and is absolutely the best chili I have ever eaten. I wished I had gotten his chili recipe before he passed away several years ago. Since then I have never had chili anywhere that was as good as his was. Bar food seems to be the best for some reason. In my old High School days, I would venture into various local bars to sample their chili, but none was even close to being as good as Chuck's! Since I have not been in a bar for the last 42 years, I will never know if there is any bar chili equivalent to Chuck Nottke's. I would like to think there is not. Many times during the last 42 years, I have been tempted to go into a bar to checkout bar chili, but have not, since it is so "Not me" and would violate the high social and moral standards I have set for myself. On the other hand, there are times I have violated my high standards in other areas. Maybe just once I could check out some bar and try their chili. Of course, it would be in another state and I would disguise myself. Say, another brilliant idea has just occurred to me. I could call local bars and see if they deliver their chili! Then I could use an assumed name and have the delivery guy meet me somewhere outside of Berlin Heights and pay cash so they won't discover my real name and address from a check or credit card! In the event bars do not deliver their chili, another idea that occurred to me is to hang around outside bars and give the money to some guy who is going into the bar and get me a take out bowl of chili and then meet me in a dark alley just outside of the bar where I would get it from him. I, of course, would let him keep the change for his kindness and time. I could make up some excuse such as that I have been banned from that particular bar because I started too many fights or something.

 

When I was in New Mexico several years ago, I had some authentic Mexican chili from an authentic Mexican restaurant made by authentic Mexican cooks in Los Cruces. Even that wasn't as good as Chuck's. I was always amazed by the irony that a "Gringo" could make better chili than a Mexican could! Life sure throws some paradoxical things at you now and then.

 

Well, I can now see bare metal where the white enamel coating was on my range top and the paint has peeled off the wall behind the range, so my latest batch of "HOTSY TOTSY CHILI" is finally ready! I am once again going to abuse my digestive system.

Bon Appétit!