She is Not-So Risen After All

How was your weekend? We had two events on our Sunday itinerary, which is rare for us. The second was a chili cook-off organized by the Riverwest Co-Op, where my future bro-in-law dazzles local palates on a daily basis with his culinary creations. Six chilis were up for review, including two submitted by him: a guava jelly concoction and a roasted beet chili artfully named "She is Risen."

She is? Maybe not...

When I asked about the origin of the name "She is Risen," my sister smiled, looked a little embarrassed, and said, "Well, it's the beet chili. You know, beets are really red...it has to do with menstruation."

Yum-O! Anyway, it WAS delicious, despite the moniker, and ultimately won the cook-off. Now, bro-in-law gets to make ten gallons of the stuff for the larger city-wide competition in two weeks.

Yeah, I'm cute. With my dog hat on. Wanna make something of it?

Guests were not only treated to a buffet of delightful chilis for the eatin' and the votin', they were also treated to live music and adorable toddlers on the loose...including my 18 month-old nephew, who made not one, not two, but THREE new girlfriends in the course of an hour. Unfortunately for him, his new babes were all a bit older than him, and much faster...so he could do little but stagger after them, arms outstretched, so hopped up on the thrill of the chase that he could only articulate excited grunts a la Frankenstein: "Ruuuuhhhhhh....FRIEND??!!!!!"

And this is where it gets interesting. Around 8 pm, guess whose ovaries decided not to play well with others? Yes! Mine! Again! By the time we got home, the only comfortable position for me was on hands and knees, head tucked down. We also arrived home to a shivering dog and broken furnace.

It was in the teens Sunday night, and our house was around 50 degrees. It was so cold our bananas were developing a gray sheen and you could almost see your breath. To stay warm, we huddled under layers of quilts and comforters. So. To recap: we'd eaten lots of chili with BEANS. The only position in which I could find ovarian comfort was a FETAL TUCK. And we were huddled under piles of HEAVY QUILTS.

Can you say "DUTCH OVEN FUN?"

The furnace is now fixed, but I am not...ovaries, I shake my fist at you in anger! I know I'll be feeling better again by the end of the week, but I hope this doesn't become a monthly thing with those little bastards. I'm trying hard to visualize healing white light and all that jazz, but I really just want to take a melon-baller to them.

All in all, I have to say I'm digging the whole cook-off challenge concept. There should be more of this! Featuring diverse dishes. Baked goods. (Oh god, I'm already salivating at the prospect of a brownie competition.) Appetizers. Lasagnas. Soups. Heirloom tomato taste-offs. You could rotate themes with the seasons. Iron Chef without the on-the-spot cooking or time limits. Talk about a win-win fundraiser!