The Hubby vs The Ketchup, A True Story

Mmm, Chili

So the hubby has some serious English Sensibilities instilled into him by his beloved mother (and a Scottish temper granted by his father). When it comes to certain things, one must do something in a certain way. Some things are simply “done” in one way or another. Consequently, he has *earned* the right to do the majority of the cooking. I simply got tired of the commentary of how something should, or should not be done.

Like, oh, committing the faux pas of using the vegetable spoon to scoop pasta out of a pot. The nerve! As if only he and I would witness such a thing. The cats only care about where the food goes, not how it gets there. Me too.

Despite all that, he really isn’t a bad cook. One of his specialties is chili. By scratch, he makes a mean and tasty chili.

Enough with the pre-story. haha

The LAST time he made chili, I was asked to taste and comment (I always am consulted for taste-testing) as it was still cooking. One of the secrets of the process, according to hubby, is how long said chili cooks before ya eat it. I figured the chili was too tomato-y (which I hate), tasted too much chili powder and needed a bit of sweetening. MY suggested fix was adding a bit of ketchup and so I did. Yep, we know why – those of us who cook a lot and need to fix seasoning. Ketchup is sweet and tart. Ironically, despite having tomatoes, it fixes that tomato-y taste. I’ve often used ketchup to fix the flavor of a chili dish.

Ketchup is my favorite vegetable

Well! My mistake for telling the hubby that I added KETCHUP to his glorious concoction. Oh no, that is simply NOT DONE. I had ruined his wondrous recipe so much that he would rather throw the whole thing out (several days worth of meals) than eat something I had desecrated with Ketchup (which is my favorite vegetable). The horror!

We fought bitterly that day and evening. *I* happily ate said chili, which of course was absolutely scrumptious, despite The Ketchup. When I didn’t expire or become struck by lightning because of my audacity, he forced himself to eat it too. He was not struck dead nor even graced with a mildly upset stomach.

So today as he concocts his usual by-hand yummy and infamous chili, I benignly comment, “I think it needs some Ketchup.” To which he replies, with passionate vehemence, “I will kill you AND eat all the chili. Then call the cops and go to jail. But not until every drop of this chili is eaten.”

Yes, I laughed.

Images: 1, 2

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