With temperatures down in the 40s Saturday morning, I started a pot of chili. Sorry I didn't get you a picture of it. But I DID grab a pic of the end stage preparation. If you don't like onions, don't come cryin' to me! It's only a picture. Not like it's going to jump out of your device and into your mouth!
Yes, that's a big pan of onions, fried in the few droplets of hamburger flavor grease that I didn't soak up with stale bread for the dogs. Farmer H and I LIKE onions! It's 3 onions, to be exact. That's 1.5 onions for each of us, if we split the pot of chili 50/50. The Pony does not partake of chili. He says it's a texture thing. I'm still waiting for him to GROW UP. Maybe he should just eat baby food with a tiny spoon, since it's all the same texture. I'd even grind up the onions for him, so he could have a new flavor. He eats onions on burgers. But not in chili.
Anyhoo... these onions are from a bag labeled Sweet Onions. I think they're meant to be like Vidalia onions, but only onions actually grown in a certain region of Georgia can bear the name Vidalia. These are not quite as sweet as Vidalias, but they'll do. Not that it matters in chili, anyway, since they're fried. These Sweet Onions are a bit hotter than a Vidalia on a sandwich.
Funny thing about onions. They don't make me cry. Which reminds me of that song by Sammy Kershaw, "Vidalia." Which is neither here nor there. I don't know what it is about my body chemistry that keeps the spraying onion juices from forming sulfuric acid with my eye juices. Even if I'm not wearing my glasses, cutting onions does not make me cry.
In other news, my cell phone doesn't want to respond to my touch. Nor does the ATM at the bank. And some slot machines. I complained to The Pony that my phone won't recognize me as a person.
"Oh, it recognizes you as a person, Mom. It just doesn't recognize you as a LIVING person."
Not sure what he meant by that! Maybe my cold, cold heart lowers the temperature of my fingertips. Sometimes I can get the devices to respond if I rub my fingertips until friction warms them a bit. And sometimes my phone will respond if I lick a fingertip. But that is very unsanitary, if I do it more than once! Phones are filthy, and we never wash them!
Anyhoo... here are those onions again, when they're nice and ready for the chili cauldron.
They're sweated-out, mostly translucent, with a few caramelized. Mmm. Onions for the chili pot. They were a tasty addition. Not that The Pony could verify it. I'm pretty sure most NORMAL people put onions in their chili. Right?
4 comments:
I have never made chili so can't verify the onion contents of various recipes, but I do LOVE onions. One of my favourite lunches now and when pregnant with child #2 (son #1) was a fried onion sandwich, with fresh bread, but sometimes lightly toasted bread. Needless to say that particular son also loves onion sandwiches. All of my family loves onions.
I can't peel and chop without bucketsful of stinging tears though, even wearing goggles doesn't help. The stinging does lessen as soon as the eyes are watering so freely I can barely see to keep chopping.
River,
My sympathy for your chopping tears. A fried onion sandwich sounds delicious! On toast, with yellow mustard!
I love onions. I put onions is just about everything but unfortunately, my digestive system has rebelled against me. When I eat something with lots of onions in it, my body reacts in... um, an explosive manner.
I blame it on age.
Sioux,
That is terrible, Madam! No more onions in your chocolate, or in your vanilla chai tea. The world does not need to deal with you being... um... INDISPOSED!
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