Oh god, sometimes I wonder if my life is a Truman Show style comedy. While trying to convince my sister to make chilli from leftovers, I assured her it was nigh on impossible to fuck up.
I managed to prove that wrong several minutes into the process. While browning the hamburger mince, not wanting to offend my wife's subtle-as-a-sledgehammer taste buds, I leaned on the chili powder a little bit. Unfortunately, the frozen mince didn't evenly span the pan, so I decide to flip it over.
That's when things got really bad. The pile of chili powder, not wanting to stick to a still frozen patch of hamburger and suddenly inverted did, assisted by gravity, proceed to fall onto the pan. The pan which was dry, by virtue of none of the meat being thawed.
Things started to get a little smoky, so I peeked into the pan just in time to see a burst of flame emerge from the pile of chilli powder. I still have the sniffles and a tickle in the back of my windpipe, and the whole house smells like a subway during a mustard gas attack.
I should maybe leave the cooking to those more qualified, like primary school kids and higher apes.
The chilli was good though.