Fact: I've only cheated once.
It was junior year of high school, final exams. The subject: physics. To keep things short, we had a series of teachers that kept quitting or getting fired (one of whom was later discovered to be a felon!), and we never actually learned physics. For the final exam, a few friends and I formed a group chat and texted each other answers. Is it me, or is there a siren in the distance getting louder?
Fact: I've also only helped someone else cheat once.
My now father-in-law is always involved in wildly creative events that somehow relate to his job as a vice president of sales for a commercial furniture company. One of these events involved a cooking competition where the theme was slow-cooker dishes. I have no idea what this has to do with commercial furniture. They even got a local restaurateur to judge the competition. Since my father-in-law's company was hosting the event, someone from the company was expected to participate (re: sacrificial lamb), and he eagerly volunteered. The irony is that my father-in-law has no time to cook in a slow cooker. He doesn't even own one!
I'd been making slow-cooker turkey chili for some time now, but there were stakes at hand, and I took my mission seriously.
I measured. Like, with teaspoons.
When it came to my own day-to-day meals, I disregarded measuring spoons. Now, I was carefully tasting the flavors of this blue collar dish as it slowly simmered, noting that it needed more cumin for smokiness, and that the extra teaspoon of chipotle I had reserved was not needed otherwise it would destroy the palate with its heat.
Having been hardly a year off college graduation, the overachiever inside me went the extra mile and discovered I had all the ingredients to make a basic internet-approved corn bread. Once that was in the oven, I got into arts and crafts mode and made a sign with the recipe printed on it. This wasn't a requirement for the competition. This is just who I am.
By the time 4:00pm rolled around, I had everything packed and sealed in an easy-to-transport method with strict directions for my father-in-law on how to present the dish with the poster, making sure everyone gets some sweet corn bread with their spicy turkey chili, and stressing that the ramekins and miniature forks are for clean access to the toppings.
That evening, I did everything I could to not think about the fact that I was helping my father-in-law cheat.
The next day, the verdict came in from my father-in-law.
We had won. Almost.
As I'm told, the story goes something like this. Once the dozen or so booths were filled with competitors and their slow-cooker concoctions, the local celebrity judge was introduced to be Gigio Longo from the Toscana Group here in Philly. (You mean, one of the masterminds behind Gran Caffe L'Aquila, where you get a pad of savory gelato resting on a tangled nest of house-made spaghetti carbonara as you sit delicately surrounded by remnants of the original restaurant in Italy that crumbled during a 2009 earthquake, and Alice, where both whimsical and quotidian pizza creations are sold by weight, and a display case showcasing cascading swoops of gelato taunts you upon entrance? Yeah, I had heard of him.)
Mr. Longo began making his rounds while other event spectators were invited to indulge in the variety of offerings. After a while, it was time for the announcement.
"Before we announce the winner, I have to give special recognition to one of our competitors. This dish was superbly made. It had complexity and depth of flavor, and I kept wanting to go back for more. It was smoky and rich and spicy and well seasoned. And the presentation of everything with the toppings and showcasing the recipe in a display. It was just truly excellent."
*squeak!*
"However, myself and the other judges decided it was unfair for one of the hosts to win this competition. But we still wanted to give an honorable mention to the chipotle turkey chili."
Oh.
I was supposed to win, but was disqualified for reasons beyond the fact that we cheated. I took hearing the compliments second-hand as my own Miss Congeniality sash, along with the knowledge that an established restaurateur ate, liked, and preferred my dish. Thank god I wrote down everything I did that day.
Hilariously, I don't think there's anything particularly special about this recipe. I commit several cardinal chili sins, such as opting for chili powder instead of dried-then-rehydrated chilis, I don't sauté the sofrito and have never tried it out of sheer laziness, and the bulk of the ingredients are canned. Perhaps the unpretentious accessibility of the recipe and its ingredients is what appealed to Mr. Longo. At least, that's what I tell myself.
So, no, there's no blue ribbon this time. But I will always treasure the story of the man who unknowingly gave me one of the best culinary compliments I would ever receive. I may not have won an award, but I did end up officially writing my first recipe that day.
Moral: Though not advised, cheaters can prosper.
With sour cream and a clean conscience,
~c.j.
ALMOST AWARD WINNING SLOW COOKER TURKEY CHILI Recipe by C.J. Celeiro, hihungry-imdad.com Yield: 4 bowls of chili, or 8 servings over starch, such as rice, pasta, fries, etc. Cook Time: 5 minutes prep, 10 minutes active cooking, 3-8 hours inactive cooking
Ingredients:
1 tbsp olive oil
1 lb ground turkey
2 medium onions, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
4 garlic cloves, smashed
28 oz canned tomato sauce
6 oz canned tomato paste
15 oz canned light red kidney beans*
15 oz canned dark red kidney beans*
2 tsp chipotle powder
1 tsp ground cumin
salt and pepper to taste
for serving: rice, pasta, fries (optional)
for topping: shredded cheddar cheese, oyster crackers, cilantro, sour cream (optional)
*You can drain and rinse the beans, but it isn't a necessary step, especially since most commercial beans nowadays are canned with less sodium. I tend to drain and rinse only one of the cans, and dump the entire contents of the other, so some of the residual salt enters the dish, but I still maintain control. Additionally, you can use all light or all dark, or you can switch it up and use different beans entirely!
Directions:
In a medium skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat. Once hot, add ground turkey and season with salt and pepper. Cook until opaque, breaking up with a wooden spoon, 8-10 minutes.
Meanwhile, place onions, red bell pepper, garlic, tomato sauce, tomato paste, kidney beans, chipotle powder, and cumin in a slow cooker and stir to combine. Once turkey is finished, add turkey to slow cooker. Salt and pepper to taste. (Note: You could also sauté the onions, bell pepper, garlic, and tomato paste in the reserved olive oil from the turkey for about 10 minutes before adding to the slow cooker, but I have honestly never done this as I have only ever made this recipe early in the morning and not wanted the fuss.)
With slow cooker lid on, cook on low for 6-8 hours, or high for 3-4 hours. If choosing to cook on high, stir every hour to prevent the chili from sticking to the bottom and sides.
Serve in bowls, or over rice, pasta, or fries. Top with shredded cheddar cheese, oyster crackers, cilantro, and/or sour cream. Refrigerate leftovers for up to 3 days, or freeze up to a month.
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