Over the weekend, we spontaneously decided to go to the Chili Cook Off. I mean, we were right across the street having breakfast and one of our table mates mentioned it. Tony and I looked at each other, shrugged and said, “You wanna go?” The reply was, “Sure, why not?” It’s something we’ve talked about attending the past few years but we never seem to be in town when it’s going on.
We meandered around at first, distracted by the old cars. William kept saying “Hey, that’s Sheriff! That’s Sheriff!” (From the Cars movie?) Yeah, except for the paint job, it IS Sheriff.
And then there was the “car that looks like Flo!” Yes, yes, it did. Something tells me this kid likes cars.
Then we got down to business and sampled several cups of chili that looked like this.
We all really liked the one made by the police department. It was spicy but went down smooth. If they sold that stuff in jars, I would definitely buy some.
William has a thing about Weinerschnitzel… THANKS MOM! He now requests to go get “ice cream” every time we drive by it, which is a lot, since it’s on the way to the grocery store, Walmart, Target, the gas station, the gym, and uh, the freeway. Meaning, it’s on the way to everywhere we go. So it was a no-brainer that he asked to have his picture taken with their Wagon that was at the cook off.
We were looking for somewhere to sit and there were some tables set up. We meandered over and sat on the concrete wall around the sign, turns out the restaurant owner had set up the tables and were inviting people to sit there, whether they were patrons or not. The owner was even sitting there and pointed at the sign above William, told us the pictures on there were of his parents. Personally, I liked the way the guy organized his chili. He said, with a wink, that he’s been doing this for a few years now.