Friday, August 19, 2011

From Lee Kroencke:
Vet 4 Pets, a non-profit organization trains service dogs for veterans who fall just short of qualifying to the government standard. Ther ar so many veterans that need service dogs which costs over $2500 and months to train each. Please come out Saturday. Aug 20th, to the Vets 4 Pets Chili Cookoff 8804 Grant Street, Overland Park, KS 66212. Take 87th Street east off I-35 for 1 mile to Grant. Turn right. You can cook chili, judge, or just enjoy the day helping someone who sacrificed for us. See you there!

LOOK WHAT IS IN THE AAA MAGAZINE THIS MONTH:
This story is the results of several emails with several of us and his own experience last year.  Thanks to all who took the time to assist him in writing this story.  I hope this is just one that will have come out of the several story requests that we have had this past year.  Sit back and enjoy reading!

Big Chili Cook-off
Head for Terlingua to find out who bags bragging rights to the best bowl of the official Texas State Dish
Story by Dan Oko | Photo by Donn Shands
Dan Oko September/October 2011 


The mountains of the Big Bend region are tinted red with cinnabar, a byproduct of mercury mining that dominated the area through the first half of the 20th century. But standing on a ridge in bright morning sunshine, looking out over a veritable RV metropolis gathered for the annual Terlingua International Chili Championship cook-off, I imagined that the rocks’ rosy hue was the result of chili powder carried on the desert wind. Nearly 600 cooks had been up since dawn, mixing batches of their prized recipes, while several thousand spectators slumbered in tents, pickup beds, and RVs.

This annual event began in 1967 as somewhat of a stunt. East Coast writer H. Allen Smith had penned a story for Holiday magazine titled “Nobody Knows More About Chili Than I Do,” which drew derision from a bunch of proud Lone Star chili heads who felt it their duty to school this know-nothing Yankee. Smith traveled to Terlingua for a cook-off, which ended inconclusively. But Sports Illustrated magazine’s humorous report on the delicious duel spread the word, awaking competitive spirits nationwide. Ever since, Terlingua has been ground zero for bragging rights to the best chili in the land.

Today, competitive chili cooks come to West Texas from as far away as the eastern U.S., Mexico, and the Virgin Islands, armed with little more than sirloin and spices (no beans or extras are allowed), to try and beat the native talent. In turn, a party erupts each autumn as the crowds arrive to cut loose and enjoy a bowl of red.

This November’s event is the 45th annual championship. The three-day contest is sponsored by the Chili Appreciation Society International (CASI), a Texas-based nonprofit that has been dedicated to promoting chili since its founding in the 1960s. Chili is prepared in a classical fashion, which is to say cooks rely strictly on meat and spices. “It’s not table chili, it’s competition chili,” explains Jimmy Taylor, a local barbecue chef.

More than 600 preliminary cook-offs take place in the run-up to the Terlingua championship, with regional groups from coast to coast organized into CASI-sanctioned Pods. Former CASI director Robert “Wappo” Schrade of San Antonio, who was visiting Terlingua for the 14th time when we met at the 2009 event, estimates that the typical competitive chili cook spends $5,000 to $8,000 a year on entry fees, meat, and supplies.

From entry and activity fees collected at CASI-sanctioned competitions, organizers claim to distribute roughly $1.5 million per year to various charities. The Terlingua event alone provides for about 40 scholarships, many going to vocational students. “CASI has made a remarkable amount of educational opportunities possible,” says Kathy Killingsworth, who has been the superintendent of the rural Terlingua Common School District for 15 years.

On the afternoon before the championship, I caught up with competitor Scott Harris of Scottsbluff, Nebraska, relaxing in the shade of a pavilion and working from his laptop. (This is the desert, but, heck, it’s 2011—this chunk of desert is Wi-Fi equipped.) A former professional chef, Harris hoped that a patented recipe that called for powdered Hatch chiles out of New Mexico might help him win, but he played down his expectations for a top finish. Win or lose, he seemed content simply to have been invited to the big dance. “It’s about the chili,” Harris mused. “But it’s more about charity and fun.”

For all the do-gooders who gather at the Rancho CASI de los Chisos, which is the formal name of the scrappy desert property where the cook-off is held, not everybody agrees that the CASI chefs have a legitimate claim to the world’s chili championship. Just up the road, a second international chili competition takes place each fall as well, and promoters call it the Original Terlingua International Chili Championship Cook-Off.

The split dates back to the ’80s, when tensions erupted between two groups of cooks who could not agree on the competition’s rules. In 1983, a handful of dedicated chefs moved their show down the road. In recent years, the two competitions have coexisted peacefully—although the CASI competition has emerged with a slight edge when it comes to sponsorships. CASI receives support from national and regional companies such as salsa manufacturer Renfro Foods, and Bruce Foods, which makes Louisiana Hot Sauce and Mexene Chili Powder. Still, it’s not uncommon to find individuals with divided loyalties; when I met Chef Taylor, he confessed that his wife had entered the “other contest.”

I found plenty of entertainment and hospitality at Rancho CASI to make a fun getaway weekend. In addition to the chili competition, there are salsa and barbecue cook-offs, cocktail hours, and nightly country music performances. A couple of friends drove out from Austin to meet me, and we pitched our tents in the cooks’ camp to stay above the fray of the spectators’ area, which at times resembled a collegiate spring break scene. We toasted with lawyers, military veterans, electricians, and doctors—all drawn together by an interest in travel, desert scenery, and a taste for well-spiced beef in a red sauce.

I had signed up to help judge the competition, which is a great way to participate in CASI without having to do anything but eat. Anybody can sign up to judge, except the cooks themselves, and each round of judging samples about 10 bowls of chili. Just ask around and one of the organizers will get you on the list.

Judges are instructed in how to evaluate a bowl of red—there’s the color, smell, consistency, taste, and aftertaste. Scored on a scale of 1 to 10, qualified chili recipes must not only taste right, but look right: a bright reddish brown with no pools of grease on the surface, for instance. The consistency pertains both to the gravy and the meat itself (no self-respecting competitive chef would serve beef ground for burgers, which is too crumbly). I spoke with chefs who custom-mixed their spices, employing cinnamon or chocolate to get the proper flavor and texture.

In between tastes, I cleansed my palate with saltines and ice-cold beer. The scene reminded me of wine connoisseurs who swirl and sniff, gargle and spit. With each sample, I found new shades of flavor, and never did I find my taste buds offended; the samples were spicy, but none so hot as to be painful.

Stepping away from the judges’ table, my face feeling as pink as the sun-kissed rock formations in the distance, I joined some chili cooks who had set up tents to escape the heat. Whatever rivalries exist in the world of chili, at that moment I felt as if I were at a friendly class reunion rather than a cutthroat competition. Listening to the reminiscences and tall tales being shared, it occurred to me that cooking chili is one way that these pepper-heads have found to dig deeper into the spice of life.


Dan Oko is a freelance writer based in Houston.



If You GoThe 2011 cook-off is November 4–6. The main event takes place on Saturday. Local lodging fills up quickly, but RV sites and camping are available at Rancho CASI de los Chisos. Admission for the weekend, including a camping fee, is $30; admission for Saturday only is $10. More information is available from the CASI website and the Krazy Flats website.


Hot Spots in the Area
Rancho CASI is a 25-mile drive from either
Big Bend Ranch State Park (1-432-358-4444) or Big Bend National Park (1-432-477-2251). Desert Sports (1-888-989-6900) rents bikes and leads trips in the national park. Far Flung Outdoor Center (1-800-839-7238) is one resource for ATV and Jeep tours and Rio Grande rafting trips. About 150 miles north, the cities of Marfa, Fort Davis, Alpine, and Marathon offer many diversions, like the McDonald Observatory (1-432-426-3640) in Fort Davis.




NOTE:  I have 3 pods that I am still waiting for some answers and their Annual Report.  I have heard nothing from them.  I have emailed them again.  If you know who is to get this information to me, please help me get it!!

They are
Thousand Trails – Lake Tawakoni
Empire State Pod
Pacific Pod

I have one report lost in the mail and we are working to try and find it, but it will be resent if it doesn't arrive today.  I have one report that will be here before the end of the weekend.

A BIG THANK YOU to all of you who have taken the time to get these reports to me.  They have for the most part been very well done with only a few errors which have been quickly corrected.

Now it is on to the proposed Rule Changes.  I am working to get them all in the right format and making sure that the references are correct.  I have had several people helping get these correct and ready to pass on to all of you.   Thanks to those people for taking the time.

Have a GREAT Chili weekend.  There are seveal CCOs that will even qualify you.  Here is your chance to get those last points.  Remember "Chili, Charity and Fun!