Chili for a Chilly Night

Allow me to tell you a story. My dad grew up in New Mexico, a state some people still think you need passport to visit (yes, I have actually been asked that before... goes along with the misconception that we live in teepees and hunt buffalo still here in Oklahoma, but that's another story). Anyway, being from the land of enchantment, my dad has eaten almost as much Mexican food as those living south of the border and has become immune to spicy food.

For as long as I can remember, my dad has made the world's hottest chili. This is the stuff legends are made of. Pregnant ladies eat it to induce labor. Sick people eat it to clear their sinuses (works better than nasal spray and vapor rub). Normal people eat it to lose their taste buds. I think you get my point here. Dad's chili is spicy, and it only gets spicier the longer it sits in the fridge (it becomes nuclear if you heat it in the microwave the next day).

Being the total flake that I've apparently become since starting this blog last year, I forgot all about posting my dad's chili today. I forgot my camera and didn't remember it until we had already gotten to my parents' house. Add on top of that, I forgot to get the recipe when we left. Insult to injury right there. Le sigh...

I can tell you every single ingredient that's in Daddy's chili. The problem is I can never remember the exact measurements. What I can do is list the ingredients without the measurements and update it later after I get him to email me the recipe, or I can leave you thankful your taste buds are still intact while I go drink a gallon of milk. The choice is yours, dear reader (kind of like those choose your own adventure books only scarier).