March Madness

I think about food and cooking all the time.  Most of the time when I am cooking, I am already thinking about the next meal, a deranged swirling mental mise en place.  Last weekend. I told Michael he could have anything he wanted for dinner, code for anything that he wanted, he would also have to cook.  He's very good in the kitchen and actually enjoys it, especially if I stay out of way.

He chose Cincinnati Chili, which I love. A very good decision. We have two schools of thought when it comes to Cincinnati chili:  Package mix or spice blend.  We had the spices in the pantry, cinnamon, cloves, allspice, chili powder, cumin, and cocoa, so I whizzed them up in the spice grinder and off I went to the couch for some private basketball time and off he went to the kitchen to play.

Once the chili started simmering away, the house smelled amazing.  I could almost taste the aroma of the greek inspired spices wafting through the house.  I took comfort in that sweet clovey cinnamon beefy tomato aroma.

He takes his chiil three way, with sauce and cheese.  I take mine four way, with sauce, cheese, and pungent onions.  We both pile on the oyster crackers.

Very basic.  No adornment.  No shower of parsely.  It was just angel hair pasta, insanely spiced chili sauce, cheese, and onions.

Here was the kicker.  He also made a butterscotch pie!  When and how, I still don't know.  He was down there for a long time. He was in the kitchen for an entire basketball game.  The pie alone would have been fabulous, but in a mad stroke of genius, he crumbled Buttefinger candy bars over the top and bruleed it!!!!!   Brilliant!  The smokey sweet charred bits and pieces of sugar and Butterfinger crumbs crackled when cut, making an otherwise cloyingly sweet pie crunchy and bold. It was crazy good.

March Madness in the house.