Posts Tagged by North Dakota
We have a tradition in our house.
Apparently, it is an unwritten, and unspoken tradition.
The other day we had snow flurries. Just flurries. Nothing stuck. The boys came home from school and asked where the chili was.
“What Chili?”, I replied.
“Mom, you always make chili on the first day it snows.”
And so I do. But, truth be told, I make chili on first snow days because I am lazy, and a terrible procrastinator. I am such a procrastinator that it takes actual snow flakes to fall from the sky to get me to organize our winter gear. This would be a perfectly acceptable practice if we lived in, say, Georgia. However, as my moniker alludes to, Dakota Pam lives in North Dakota. In case you are not sure where our little state is, look to the middle of Canada, then look slightly south. There we are! We get no hurricanes (yay!), but we are guaranteed winter weather. North Dakotans cannot escape winter. And yet, it takes snowflakes to get to to match up last years gloves and figure out if we have enough snow pants and boots.
So, usually, after a day of panicked matching, sorting, and inevitably shopping, I’m pooped. Too pooped to cook. And I’ve usually forgotten to plan ahead, so I have no real dinner options. Except Chili.
My First Snow Chili is no gourmet creation. The hardest thing for me is opening all of the cans (thanks to the tendonitis brought on by hauling twin carseats for 18 months I now have an electric can opener. Yay me!). I’m not going to win any chili cook-offs with this chili, and I doubt you will either. . .but if you do, slip me an email, my ego would LOVE that!
No, my friends, the best part of First Snow Chili, is that it takes about 10 minutes to whip up and only requires one pot.
I declared today our first snow day. It shouldn’t count, we have no measurable snowfall (yay), only flurries. BUT, I’m signed up to bring dinner for the elementary school teachers today so they can snatch a bite between parent/teacher conferences. Plus, the boys have been BEGGING for chili and declaring every flurry a snowfall.
So, my friends, here is my lazy, snowy day gift to you.