Where I work, this happens once a year. It's part of our annual fundraising for the United Way. For the past couple of years, I've been recruited to be one of the Chili Cooks.
You'd think they'd have learned their lesson by now, but apparently not. My wife, however, has. So, this year, in the interest of saving lives and preserving sanity, she offered (in that particular use of the word "offer" that you most often see in the context of, say, Mob enforcers or tax collectors) to cook the chili for me.
I did not refuse. Mainly because, well, it wasn't that sort of offer.
So this year I will bring a crock pot full of safe, filling, wholesome - but still very garlicky - chili to the cookoff. The
I still don't hold with using these newfangled "recipes" when you're cooking, though.