It Will Be A Chili Day In Hillmomba When The Pony Is My Sous Chef Again

I warned informed The Pony that I might ask for his assistance in making the pot of chili on Saturday.  Such a dirty trick, huh, to choose a helper who doesn't even like chili! It's not like I was forcing him to TASTE it. I only needed him for mechanical purposes.

I tasked The Pony with opening five cans. We have a can opener that was given to me last Christmas by my sister the ex-mayor's wife. You just put it on top of the can, push a button, and it spins itself around, cutting just below the rim, so you can pull off the top and not have those sharp edges. WHEN it works! I think we must be doing something wrong. The one Sis used to demonstrate for me worked great!

Anyhoo... there were two cans of chili beans, one can (larger) of baked beans, one can of black-eyed peas (I always put them in my chili), and one can of diced tomatoes with oregano and garlic. The Pony opted to us the hand-held can opener from the silverware drawer. That would have had my hands crippled-up for a week. But he's young and spry.

I had to tell him step by step what was planned.

"Get out the big silver pot. Put it on the back burner."

 

"Get out the packet of chili seasoning from the small pantry. I think I have some. Or I might have too many taco seasonings. I'm low on one, and always forget and buy the other."

 

"Um. The date on this one is 2015."

 

"It's POWDER! I'm sure it will be okay. If you don't find any more."

 

Thus The Pony embarked on a quest to read the date on every packet of seasoning. Most were of the 2015 era. I suppose there'd been a major clean-out back then. He DID find a current packet of chili seasoning. 

 

"Oh, Mom. This one is half-full. It's probably recent. The package looks like the good one. Not the kind that looks like it's from the 80s."

 

"Okay. We'll use a pack and a half."

 

The Pony briefly admired his pile of expired seasoning packets. Then threw them away.

 

"Now that you're done with that, maybe we can get this chili show on the road. The hamburger is done, and I don't have anywhere to put it so I can start the onions."

 

"I was HELPING YOU clean out your seasonings!"

 

"I know. Now, dump a can of the chili beans in. WITH the liquid. Then the can of baked beans and also its liquid."

 

"Um. The baked beans won't come out."

 

"Sure they will. Dig in with a spoon. That'll get 'em started. They plop out." [They did.] "See? They'd been stored upside down. But I just bought them yesterday!"

 

"I didn't do it! I just opened them."

 

"I know. Not blaming you. Just explaining why they were stuck. Now, put in the diced tomatoes, liquid too."

 

"Mmm. Those smell good."

 

"I always get the seasoned ones. Okay. We're ready for the black-eyed peas. Give them to me, so I can pour out the liquid in the sink. Wait a minute. I need their lid."

 

"I threw all the lids away."

 

"WHAT? You're supposed to put the lid in the can when it's empty. So nobody cuts themself on loose lids in the trash. What if I'm digging for something? Like the PINWHEELS that I was going to give the dogs?"

 

"Sorry. Do you want me to get them out? The lids. Not the pinwheels. The dogs don't need moldy pinwheels."

 

"They're DOGS! They eat carrion. I don't think a moldy tomato on a pinwheel is going to hurt a dog."

 

"Here's one. Use this lid."

 

"Huh. It's smaller than the can. A couple of black-eyed peas got out. But okay. I'll dig them out of the drain. Pour these in. Then the last can of chili beans, with the liquid."

 

"They're in."

 

"NOW get me all the liquids. I'll need ketchup. Worcestershire sauce. Steak sauce. Heinz 57. Frank's Original Hot Sauce. And a little yellow mustard."

 

"Um. I think this is too old. Look at it."

 

"Okay. Throw it out, and hand me the new Heinz 57."

 

"The Franks needs to go, too."

 

"Fine. Give me the new one."

 

And so it went, until I had all the liquids squirted in. Then I shook in the powdered chili seasoning, and told The Pony to bring it to a boil, while stirring to keep it from sticking to the bottom. He accomplished this with specific directions to stir every 30 seconds. Once boiling had ended, in went the browned hamburger, and I was on to the onions.

 

I offered The Pony the first taste of the simmered chili. He declined. I tried it, and it was JUST RIGHT. That's the best case scenario. It's when more liquids need to be added that it goes off the rails.

 

 

That's an EXTREME close-up of the chili. With The Pony's help, I had that pot of chili done in 90 minutes. Without him, it takes 60.