In the beginning there was no chili, only the darkness created by a void of chili.
The beginning lasted 18 years. I liked soup, I liked stew, I liked most of the things that go into chili (e.g. ground beef, chicken, spices, tomato, etc.), but for whatever reason I never tried chili.
That all changed in January 1998 at a mess hall at Denison University, a liberal arts college in Granville, Ohio. If Oberlin College could have its liberated women with hairy armpits then Denison could have a freshman with a devil-may-care attitude who didn't mind throwing caution to the wind by making his first bowl of chili dining hall chili.
Admittedly, I wouldn't have tried it on my own--not in a college dining hall anyway--but I figured if it was good enough for my roommate, the same person who already had turned me on to ramen noodles and sushi, then it was good enough for me.
"You eat that stuff?" I remember asking him.
"Yeah. It's good," he said.
And as I took that first bite I remember thinking, "It is good! This is how God felt after creating the heavens and the earth, the night and the day.
"Chili is good."