Nine Wraths Chili.
It was time, Finally. After weeks of tracking her parents down, a few weeks more of bartering and haggling, Asipha finally had it. A recipe that had been in her family for generations, tracing it all the way back to the ass end of the twenty first century. She cared little for the name of the dish-it was apt, sure, but sounds like something an edgy redneck cooked up-What mattered was that it was delicious. The Nine Wraths of Hell Chili was something that Asipha’s own mother had cooked for special occasions and during family gatherings which featured many hungry people. The recipe called for, of course, nine different chili sauces of intensifying degree’s of heat, Tomato chunks, and three different chili beans, ground beef, pork and chicken, as well as steak and chicken chunks and bacon. Asipha couldn’t resist a strip or two of bacon herself, a guilty pleasure to be sure, especially since Asipha sought out to lose some weight. She told her daughters that she had company due over, thus the big dish, but neglected to tell them who exactly was coming over. She grinned as she imagined the look on Carlos Makara’s face when she sets the portions down in front of him, challenging him to try all different nine portions. The dish started with a large pot, then several more with the bottoms cleaved off, to keep all the pots level with one another, and to keep each hotter ring of chili separated from one another. As the dish was finished up, the only thing left to do was to set the table and keep the dish warm. “Mm. Aranea, Vriska, Come help me set the table. The big one.” She said, in reference to an old, and rather dusty looking long-table, made to sit, at the very most, ten people. This meant moving their small little round-table out of the dining room, a task Asipha took upon herself.
