Butter Chicken Chili
Six full months of chili every single day and there is a pervasive feeling that something is lacking. Mind you, it is nothing superfluous in nature- not an exotic concubine, a red hot sports car, nor an *even* tighter pair of lederhosen. As it happens with all of the artists who stroke boldly from a palette of tomato-based sauce, I have forgotten my love affair with butter. This 180 day fixation on chili has wrenched me from the tender arms of mon premier amour. The hour is upon me, it is time to make things right.
1 stick of butter
1 T chili
½ t garlic pepper seasoning
½ t paprika
½ t onion powder
¾ pound boneless, skinless chicken breast, cubed
1 ½ C cooked pinto beans
Cooked rice or cooked noodles
- To a pan over medium heat, add butter and seasonings.
- Cook until butter is melted and bubbly.
- Add chicken and simmer until chicken is cooked through.
- Add beans and simmer for 5 minutes.
- Serve over rice or noodles.
One of the grand tragedies in life is the woeful reality that man is hopelessly unable to identify that which is truly important. To the point- while preparing today’s chili, I burnt the living hell out of my lower abdomen with molten butter. I really could have used those lederhosen to shield that area just north of my groin. Short of securing the lederhosen, I could have used a fast car to deliver me to the clinic. At the very least I’d have appreciated a courtesan to nurse me back to health, as all Mrs. Chili365 seemed willing to do was snicker.
The ITP enjoyed their meal far before I was able to eat mine. The ratings came back favorable, as the ITP is quite fanatical about butter. The feedback indicated that the chicken/bean chimera was more butter than spice but it was quite nice. (That’s what this little chili is made of.)
Once the burning sensation subsided to a near-comfortable smoldering, I tried the chili. It was good and buttery. It was noticeably buttery. Go figure, it had an entire stick of butter which, at one point at least, was almost certainly hot enough to smelt iron. I added sriracha to my bowl of butter chili- a good bit of sriracha in fact. Subconsciously, I think I was trying to singe my tongue in order to take my mind off the fact that I very nearly scalded my manhood with scorching hot butter. Looks like mon premier amour has a bit of a vengeful streak. Hell hath no fury like a dairy spread scorned.