Today, me and my sister in law went off to do make our contribution to social justice, and attempt to spread some fits and giggles while we were at it, at the local DPBC (Democratic Party of Barrayar County, that is) annual chili cookoff.
It was sort of a contest among state legislature House districts in the area. But I wasn't exactly in it to win it. For one thing, a self-respecting Dendarii looks for fortune and glory by conquering the Universe, not by entering local chili cookoffs.
This diary is just a fun bit about how we had fun at one of the most local of local activities. It ain't no Netroots Nation Convention, but it's what we did today.
For another thing, only half of the judging was based on how good your goop was. The rest was based on getting people to make donations with expensive poker chips that they bought and dropped into jars with your entry's name on it, as a creative way of donating to the Democrats. In other words, to win, you had to be popular and have rich friends bribe the voting. If it was a Harry potter scenario, the Malfoys would have dumped a great gob of money into their own jar and proclaimed their black acidic Longbottom potion to be the fairest of them all.
In short: No chance to win. I have no friends in town to bribe my jar, because I am a filthy nerdy social retard and something of a worm, and what friends I do have are usually too busy to get out much. Anyhow, the point of this was to have fun. Here's some of the fun we had...
MY Entry: This started out as a Chef Paul Prudhomme recipe from the cookbook I have to use a paint scraper to pry the pages apart when I try to use it, from decades of spatters and fizzles as I peered into it over hot bubbly concoctions. I've also been tweaking it for decades, or at least I used to before marrying into a family that hates onions, peppers and hotsies. This is the first time I'd made this chili since around 1997.
I started out intending to cal it "Vorkosigan Red", but it turned out a mostly brownish color. Then I thought about giving it one of those smoking hot names like "Scorned Woman Hell Hath No Fury Nuclear Meltdown Better Alert Scandinavia Donkey with Red Hot Horseshoes Gonna Kick Yo Ass Think of the Hottest Thing You Ever Ate-This one is 3.14 Times As Hot Pass the Fire Extinguisher Super Hot Chili Double Dare You to Eat it You Wuss". You know, with little pictures of devils with pitchforks grinning evil grins and beckoning out at you. But really, it had some heat to it but it wasn't gonna-kill-you hot, and for all I knew the guys next to us would have made triple Habanero chili and there I'd be looking like a presumptuous laughing stock. And so I settled for:
Vorkosigan Mercenaray Rations:
Beef top round
Bacon
Onions
Peppers--Green/Yellow/red Bell
---Guajillo
---Arbol
---Ancho
---Cayenne
---Serrano
Celery
Toasted cornmeal
Corn
Garlic
Black Butte Porter
Chicken stock
Dark Chocolate
Tomatoes
Salt
Basil
Garlic powder
Onion powder
Black Pepper
Paprika
Cumin
Dry mustard
Thyme
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
I mean, check that out! Beer, Bacon and Chocolate! Does our chili have the Trifecta of Awesome or what?
And Here is what my Sister in Law brought!
Iron Chef Belgium Iowa Red:
Corn
Corn
MORE corn
Flood Sluicings
Waffles
Peruvian Death Peppers
Bell Peppers
Hot Peppers
Dr. Pepper
Pepperoni
Brimstone Essence
Gummy Bears (red)
Redhots
Big Red
Red Dye 40
Red crayons
Red Green's suspenders
Fury Deriviative of scorned Woman
Cumin
A drawing of a duck
Red Kryptonite
Lucky Bay Leaves (Bob for one!)
Walla Walla Walla Walla Onions
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Bees
Beats
Beets
Beans
Has Beens
Peanuts
Lobster
Wheat
Arsenic (now legal in 13 states!)
Artificial Imitation Cheese Food Product Spread
Organic chilis
Dihydrogen Monoxide
Monosodium Glutemate
Sulfuric Acid
Our sincerest Apologies
Bacon
...and one gym sock!
Her ingredient sign included a picture of people trying the stuff (Twitch! Convulse!), wondering what kind of God would allow such an abomination of chili to be made, and Lucifer Prince of Darkness opining that it needs more salt. I told her we really needed to save the sign afterwards and mail it to a particular friend who really appreciates that kind of humor. Instead, she intends to scan it and post the thing on her LiveJournal page. You've been warned.
Too bad the Board of Health came along and told us that, in order to serve that one, we'd have to wear haz-mat suits and make everybody sign a waiver before eating it. So we left it at home. The Redhead and Two-Foot can have it for dinner. But we really did list it on our ingredient sign, and comic mayhem ensued.
So we showed up.
Next step: The mercenaries find a banner under which to sail. Out own house district already had representation, so we thought about doing a different house district. Then a friend who was leader of the "Community Action" division asked us to sally forth under the "Community Action" banner. Well, hey! Who doesn't support community action? So I proudly drew up a Community Action sign over our ingredient lists, and there we were. The mighty Community Action team. Me and SIL.
I had spent all my theoretical energy trying to make a decent chili, and didn't have much left over for preparation. Little details like bringing along chairs, a watch, drinks. The party Ferengis were selling drinks at inflated prices. Even selling the water. Note: Seems to me that's a tad greedy and a turnoff to people who volunteer and vote; charging money for water in July at what's supposed to be a fun event. Just give out the friggin' water and charge the people who want beer.
Then, I looked around at the other entries. Right. We're Democrats. They gave us a list of rules, and we considered them carefully before going off and ignoring them and doing everything our own way. With me, I treated it as an unwelcome suggestion that they wanted us to show up early in the morning and make the food on site, in a friggin' park. I showed up on time for the event, but otherwise at the time I felt like it, with a crock pot to simmer and a long extension cord to the single outlet on the planet next door.
The rest of the entries, they ignored the rule that it was supposed to be chili! They showed up with pulled pork sandwiches, salads, pie, cornbread and "chilly", a cold berry sort of moosh. Good stuff, all of it, but there was only one other entry that was actual chili. Two if you counted the white chicken "chili" thing which was sorta like chili Alfredo.
Democrats love rules. We love the SPROINGGGG!!! sound that they make when you bend them as far as you can and then let go.
People paid money at the gate to get a spoon and a bowl, and then went to our booths to sample. The first person showed up at our booth and looked over our ingredient signs. He looked at mine, and then at SIL's. He went through the Kubler-Ross stages of Vorkosigan menu inspection:
- Consideration
- Suspicion
- Slowly Dawning Horror
- Involuntary Step Backward
- Eager "May I Haz Samplez Pleez?"
We high fived each other. Our work was done. Almost.
More people came and had bowls. SIL went and sampled what the other people had. Then she staffed the booth and I sampled what other people had. I liked mine. i looked at the poker chips. Oh God, it was pitiful. We were tied for second, because we were one of three entries with any chips at all, and the leading entry had two. So we went back and started talking up all the entries and telling people to vote.
Someone came along and marveled that we had corn in our chili: "Oh boy, corn! I love things with corn!" I said, "Me too; that's why I pay attention to campaign speeches."
The crockpot got low. I refilled it from the back up pot. I'd made a lot of it. A little dribble of chili got on our ingredient sign, and several people later commented on that, saying it looked down home.
They had a band. The band played "Walk Right In" I wanted to go over and mosh to it. I was getting in the kind of mood where I want to fool around, like playing "Candidate and Handler". That's a fun one. The candidate goes and shakes everyone's hand, saying things like, "I feel the need to dominat, please vote for me in November. The Handler follows the candidate around, with his head in his hands, making low moaning noises.
The mayor, my state senator, a candidate for county commish, and the state Labor Commissioner came by. They all praised the chili.
Actually, a lot of people were praising the chili.
Some guy came along and asked if I made it commercially. I was like, Whoah.
Several other people came along, assuming SIL had made the chili. That's a good sign. When they think the woman made it, that means it was done right. And in fact, she's the real cook of the household, but they didn't know that.
A granny came along and oohed and ahhed over it. I said to SIL, "See? This chili is a babe magnet!"
And then we won the cookoff. I was like, HUH?
Actually, we came in second, after the chili Alfredo booth, which had a staff of dozens and had stuffed the ballot jar. Or maybe they didn't--their entry was a good one. But they had a lot of buddies rooting for them, and every vote we got was earned. SIL says the chili was really that good, I shouldn't be surprised. Well, maybe, but I wasn't even trying I just got an overload of bonus points, and they're making me feel really warm and fuzzy.
But I got a goody basket worthy of taking to Grandma's house, and the mayor and the state senator congratulated me, and SIL and I had our Sally Field moment, and the Community Action chair was happy because I'd made her some money and done some good for local activism and social justice. As all good netroots activists should do.
And the Dendarii mercenaries sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day, back to our very own home, where I found The Redhead waiting for me.
And she was still hot.