I’ve never been a huge chili fan. As an adult, I’ll be polite and eat it if someone invites me to dinner and serves chili. I’ll eat, but I wouldn’t ask for seconds. In fact, I’ll probably feign fullness about 3/4 of the way through the bowl. If there’s anything else on the menu, I’ll order that. My poor mom, though. Oh, the torment. As a child, I hated chili. The world record for the longest time taken to eat a teaspoon of chili was most certainly set by yours truly in 1973. If there was a way to consume that teaspoon of chili without ever allowing said chili to touch my teeth, lips, or tongue, I mastered it. There weren’t enough Saltine Crackers in a box to make a bowl of chili palatable to my budding taste buds.
And my mom was a good cook!
So how I became…
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