The three amigoes

I won't embarrass myself with any attempt at posting recipes like my idol, the Pioneer Woman. As if. I know my limitations, and photography and witty prose are not part of my fortes. I'll leave the amazing pictures and recipes in her very capable hands. But, I do have to say one thing.

I love these guys


I do. I love them. It might be bordering on an unhealthy love affair. Please don't tell my husband. No man can compete with the tongue tingling, mouth watering, throat searing beauty of a good hot sauce. We won't even go there.

I could write an ode to these tongue tinglers. Well, i could if I could write poetry, and as I have no desire to be laughed at on the internet, I won't. We'll leave my bad poetry back in grade 10 where it belongs, m'kay?

I got out the three amigoes today since it's a chili making day. When it's so cold outside that the snot inside your nose freezers, it's a chili day. Mmm chili.
So I made chili. I'm nothing if not predictable.


Mmm, chili.

Of course, chili is not one of those dishes you can eat and run with. oh hell no. When you eat my chili, you condemn yourself to an evening of tums and colgate. Between the three amigoes, and my other sidekick, garlic, chili is not a social food in this house.

I'm not lying


I already have the restraining orders all drawn up for a distance of 10 feet for this evening. Which, come to think of it, shouldn't be a problem since my husband is usually asleep on the couch minutes after our 2 year old (almost three, but we're not going there yet) son goes to bed. We're lively 'round these parts.