I’d like to tell a story about the annual(ish) @KGWNews chili cook-off. It’s happening today, and I came prepared. Sort of.

Hence the story.

A few years ago, still a nervous cub reporter here, I vowed to participate in the newsroom chili-bowl, scheduled for a Wednesday. Late Tuesday night, I realized I’d completely forgotten said vow, prompting a panicked sprint to Trader Joe’s.

Vital to know: I‘m not a good cook. I have a few impressive dishes in my arsenal, but that’s it. Blue Apron was a big deal for me, but I even quit that because Netflix.

So what did I do that nervous night? I bought 6 cans of pre-made chili, dumped them into a (borrowed) crock pot & lied to my coworkers about how it came to be. Awesome plan. All was going great. I was in the clear.

Enter... this monster (who declined to comment for this thread)

In a weak moment, I confided in @jtierney6 & a few others that my “homemade” contribution was anything but. They laughed but didn’t make a big deal of it... until ppl really started to like my chili. It was a hit. Even @ChicagoJoeWGN (RIP Joe) texted me asking for the recipe.

Now, none of that is the monster’s fault. But let’s be clear: he was not happy. He had dragged his poor wife to multiple grocery stores the night before, searching for “the right kind of turkey”... yet no one was singing his praises. No one was texting for his recipe. Sad!

So what did John do? He exposed my fraud. Loudly. Angrily. Under the guise of transparency & integrity (spare me). He even made a sarcastic “chilli cook-off winner” certificate (which I may or may not have “lost”) & tacked it up near my desk.

My good name? Destroyed.

Cut to KGW chili cook-off, 2019.

I, the girl who loudly & virally defended her pants on live TV, am not about to be shamed out of my canned existence. So once again, I dumped 6 rounds of Trader Joe’s pre-made finest into my (now owned! baby steps) crockpot & brought it in.

Everyone’s required to label theirs. Guess which one is mine.

And oh by the way?

The praise is pouring in.

AGAIN.

Victory. It’s the sweetest taste of all.

The end.