Chilifest Recap Plus Bonus Recipe

And now for the post-chilifest post. Last year I brought a veggie chili that brought the partygoers to their knees.

In front of a toilet. This year, my (vegan) Jamaican Jerk chili was definitely better received. But since I forgot to pre-cook the damn thing and had to wait 4 hours for my crock pot to soften the potatoes, most people were pretty drunk and/or had burned tongues from the other six chilis by the time they got to mine. Here's what happened while my chili cooked:

I don’t know what purple shirt’s name is, but let’s call him Mike. Here’s a shot of Mike gazing upon the wreckage of the once-bounteous antipasto platter. Perhaps Mike is wishing for more of the feta squares. Perhaps he is reflecting on how much he hates carrots, mostly because his father was a carrot farmer and endlessly browbeat Mike about entering the family business. But Mike was more of a cauliflower man and ran away from home at eighteen to join a caravan of food stylists passing through town. Mike and his father have since reconciled and swap recipes daily.



After the boys had ascertained that their caves were indeed, bat-free, they relaxed and let their hair down. Steve especially.

Here I am writing a pre-emptive apology for my entry in chilifest, plus detailed directions to every bathroom in the house and some of my favorite home remedies for intestinal duress. (Not really. It’s actually a “kick me” sign I slapped on someone’s back.)

Did you put this tiny, but very wet “kick me” sign on my back?

The band went all the way to China to find their four year-old drummer, whose slam-dance moves to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” would have made Johnny Rotten jealous.

An hour after this picture was taken I lost my voice. One second I was pipsqueaky me, the next I was a lumberjack named Biff. It still doesn’t make any sense to me.

Smile, blurry people!

A moment of beatific thanks to the Tequila Gods before the Channeling Ethel Merman / ABBA sing-along portion of the evening.

These dogs will be great for breakfast! Also, no party is complete until the mysterious, dreadlocked Green Ghost shows up.

Tequila is such a cruel master. But also kind of funny, Bob's smirk implies.

Ethel, there is indeed no business like show business. But somehow, I suspect this one is “Anything You Can Do.” Other hits from the night included: “I Got Rhythm,” “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” and “I Get a Kick Out of You.”

And the final shot in the InebriaCam series. As you can see, I had a bad case of Tequila hand. All the better to convey the queasiness of the night to you, my lovelies. Because guess what happened next? That's right. My chili was so delicious it made an encore appearance! Which means I missed the hot tubbing, but not the wonder and amazement that is Driving Five Hours While Hungover the next morning. So now that I've set your taste buds ablaze, here's my recipe for Jamaican Jerk Chili:

One 14.5 oz can of diced tomatoes; Two 14.5 oz cans kidney beans, rinsed & drained; one 14.5 oz can tomato sauce (can substitute spaghetti sauce); 1 pound red potatoes, diced; 1 large onion, diced; 8 oz. tofu, diced; 1 Tbs brown sugar; 1 Tbs Jamaican Jerk seasoning; 2 Tbs red wine vinegar; 1/2 cup water. Combine all ingredients in a crock pot and cook on "high" for about 4 hours, or until you've drunk much more than you should and have begun to accost a fellow partygoer because he looks like David Cross. Later, continue to express your amazement that he doesn't know who David Cross is. Call it a crime. Fail to realize that you're being completely annoying. Wander around, interrupting random conversations. Tell some people about your book (or children; this is an acceptable substitute). Make yourself another drink and rescue the little dogs placed high on a desk by children you don't know. Watch a cute adopted child learn to do the rock n' roll devil's horns with his hands for the very first time. Laugh at this and say, "Aawww!" Finish your drink and pour yourself some red wine. Check on friend who is vomiting on the gnomes from the front porch. Now, you're done! Time for some chili.