Okay, so about that “5th spot.” Sounds a bit like I almost made it, right? And yeah, that’s pretty much the story. Fifth place. In the grand scheme of things, not exactly front-page news, but let me tell you, getting there was a whole adventure.
It all started, like many of my brilliant ideas, pretty casually. I was just scrolling through the local community page, you know, the one where people mostly complain about parking or lost cats. Then I saw it: “Annual Town Chili Cook-Off!” And I thought, why not? I make a decent chili, or so my family tells me. They might just be polite, though.
So, I signed up. That was the easy part. Then came the actual work. First, the recipe. I didn’t want to use my everyday, quick weeknight chili. No, this was for a competition. I pulled out all my old cookbooks, scoured a bunch of websites – trying to find that secret something. I ended up with a Frankenstein monster of a recipe, a bit from here, a bit from there. I wrote it all down on a stained piece of paper, feeling like some mad scientist.
Then the ingredient hunt. Oh boy. My recipe called for three different kinds of chili peppers I’d never even heard of. I went to three different grocery stores. One fancy deli. Even considered growing them myself for a hot second before realizing the cook-off was next week. I finally found them at this little specialty shop tucked away downtown. The owner looked at me like I was planning something serious. I guess I was.
The Kitchen Battlefield
The day before the cook-off, my kitchen looked like a disaster zone. I chopped, I diced, I sautéed. I had two massive pots bubbling away on the stove. One was the main batch, the other was my “experimental” batch where I tried adding a tiny bit of dark chocolate. Yeah, chocolate. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Or maybe do, because I’m still not sure about that one.
I tasted. I adjusted. More cumin? A bit more paprika? My family were my guinea pigs, of course. My son made a face at one point, said it was “too pointy.” Whatever that means. I stirred that chili for what felt like days. I even talked to it a little. Don’t judge.
Then came the transport. Getting two heavy pots of chili to the community center without spilling them in my car was an Olympic sport in itself. I drove about 10 miles per hour, clenching everything every time I hit a bump.
When I arrived, the place was buzzing. Seriously, people take their chili very seriously. There were folks with custom aprons, elaborate crock-pot setups, even little flags for their chili names. My setup was, let’s say, more… rustic. Just me, my two pots, and a ladle. I felt a bit out of my league, to be honest. I saw some of the other chilis. They looked professional. One guy even had dry ice for a smoky effect! Seriously.
The Moment of Truth
The judging started. People walked around, tasted little cups of chili, made notes on clipboards. It was nerve-wracking. I just stood there, trying to look casual, but inside, my stomach was doing flips. I offered samples, smiled a lot. I kept thinking, “Did I add enough salt? Is the chocolate too weird?”
Then they started announcing the winners, from honorable mentions upwards. Third place was announced. Then second. Then the grand champion, who, surprise surprise, was the guy with the dry ice. His chili was probably fantastic, but the theatrics didn’t hurt, I bet.
And then, they got to the “other notable entries” or something like that. And they called my name. “And in fifth spot, with a very interesting smoky chipotle blend…” My chili! I actually grinned. Fifth place. It wasn’t the trophy, but hey, it was something!
You know, for all the stress and the almost-disaster with nearly burning the onions (a story for another day), that 5th spot felt pretty good. It wasn’t about winning, not really. It was about trying something new, putting myself out there, and honestly, making a darn tasty pot of chili, even if it was only the fifth tastiest according to some judges with clipboards.
Would I do it again? Maybe. I’d probably need a few months to recover from the pepper fumes and the anxiety. But yeah, that 5th spot. It’s got a nice ring to it, in its own way. It’s a reminder that sometimes, just showing up and giving it your best shot is a win in itself. Plus, I had a lot of leftover chili, so that was a win too.
