Easy Chicken Chili with Sweet Potato + Lime

My version of white chili. With lime.

Easy Chicken Chili Time

New Year's Day looms. Ah, the annual parades. The glut of bowl games. The feast of football. Pigskin is king. Tight ends are tightening. Quarterbacks are quarterbacking. And kickers are praying to the football gods they won't be called in for a chip-shot, with 6 seconds to spare in the final quarter. Do I sound like I know what I am talking about? I don't. I just overheard some manly sporty banter over gluten-free tuna melts. To which I smiled politely.

And reached for a pickle.

Even after watching every episode of Friday Night Lights, I still don't understand a down. Football is a mystery. Back fields in motion. Penalties! Off sides. Snap. Blitz. Gotta love the lingo. It's a language alluringly foreign to me. Like math.

Or for some, perhaps it's akin to say... abstract expressionism.

Visual chaos executed in angles and arcs and bursts of focus, drive and energy.

Thing is, I get the practiced dance of propulsion. Designing motion from multiple points of view. I get it. In my bones. This is my territory. You're talkin' my language. Value verses tone. Light bumping up against dark. Sharp contrast dissolving into blur. I appreciate the power of practice and intention. Negative space divided by a perfect spiral.

Think of the interplay of icing thick paint and oceanic viscosity.  The quickening beauty of a layered surface, vibrating with complementary colors. Transparency and opacity. Cool against warm. Unprimed and primed. Lost and found edges. The seduction of action's evidence. The painter's hand. Rugged tooth and clean, smooth paper.

Though it's not all yin yang, a wrestle of opposites.

As in football- and life- painting is a focus of expression, sometimes true and authentic, and sometimes disappointingly off the mark.

Like a short field goal.

We try. We sometimes miss. But what matters is- we make the effort. And that is all we can do. We kick the ball. We brush wet paint. We string words into a lyric. We stitch a quilt. We photograph a child's curiosity. We make chili.

And sometimes?

We get a winner.

And if not?

Tomorrow is another day.


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