Don’t try this at home, kids — a chili contest sends two people to the hospital.
[Via Geek Press]
5 thoughts on “Thatsa Somea Spicy Meataballa”
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Don’t try this at home, kids — a chili contest sends two people to the hospital.
[Via Geek Press]
Comments are closed.
Wussies!! Wick Fowler’s in Austin (are they still in business?) served a very very hot bowl of red. Very few could finish one.
BTW…this reminded me of this old gem.
Recently Frank was honored to be selected as an outstanding Famous celebrity in Texas, to be a judge at a chili cook-off, mainly because no one else wanted to do it. Also the original person called in sick at the last moment, and Frank happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking directions to the beer wagon when the call came. He was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy, and besides they told him that he could have free beer during the tasting, so Frank accepted.
Here are the scorecards from the event:
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Chili # 1: Mike’s Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
FRANK: Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
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Chili # 2: Arthur’s Afterburner Chili
JUDGE ONE: Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.
JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
FRANK: Keep this out of reach of children! I’m not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to walkie-talkie in 3 extra beers when they saw the look on my face.
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Chili # 3: Fred’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.
JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
FRANK: Call the EPA, I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Barmaid pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting shit-faced.
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Chili # 4: Bubba’s Black Magic
JUDGE ONE: Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
FRANK: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally, the bar maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills; that 300 lb. bitch is starting to look HOT, just like this nuclear-waste I’m eating.
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Chili # 5: Linda’s Legal Lip Remover
JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
FRANK: My ears are ringing, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!
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Chili # 6: Vera’s Very Vegetarian Variety
JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.
JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
FRANK: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!
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Chili # 7: Susan’s Screaming Sensation Chili
JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge Number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
FRANK: You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing. I’ve lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit to match my damn shirt. At least during the autopsy they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing, it’s too painful. Screw it, I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
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Chili # 8: Helen’s Mount Saint Chili
JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good, balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge Number 3 passed out, fell and pulled the chili pot on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor Yankee.
FRANK: ————–(editor’s note: Judge #3 was unable To report)
These guys need to work for JPL.
To borrow a phrase, “If you knew beans about [Texas] chili, you’d no chili doesn’t have beans“. No self-respecting Texas chili judge would ever say, “needs more beans”. Rather they’d write down, “foreign object found”, give it a zero, and pass it to the next guy.
Somebody a couple of weeks ago hoped Rick Perry was wearing asbestos underwear now that he was running for president.
I pointed out that, as a Texan, he was probably used to dealing with flames down yonder.
I guy I worked with in Sonora Ca was a hot sauce collector. There was a lit shop that sold stuff that required a waiver be signed before they’d sell any of it to ya.
One day he brought this stuff to work in a little stoppered bottle that looked like tar which was supposed to be the second hottest of all. One drop per cauldron hot. I warned him not to open it, but he did. Silly rabbit didn’t get any work done that day. I was in the next office across a hall and my eyes watered.