About 24 1/2 years ago as a new Navy Wife I was subjected to various forms of culture shock, and I am not just referring to landing on the island of Guam at 6 AM only the have the ship's chaplain (who had my husbands pick-up) arrive an hour late with the cab of the truck covered in newly exploded Dr Pepper and no gas in the tank.  Looking back there was of course the military in general, and as a wife we were classified as a "dependent wife" aka DW (referring to the fact that the military looked at us as a life sucking force that drained the active duty personnel of valuable time and energy and if the Navy had wanted you to have one they would have issued you one with your sea bag) and we were persona non grata without our husbands Social Security number or at the very least his "last four."

   Everything has a procedure from the check-in at the clinic to the check-out a the commissary (grocery store), in fact the first time I had ever stepped foot in a commissary I did it wrong, yes it's true I was shopping incorrectly (I didn't know that was possible but I soon found that out after all the well seasoned military wives glared at me and TOLD me that I was doing it wrong). For those unfamiliar with the "old" commissary layout please try to envision a Quonset hut circa World War I or II filled with every food and non-perishable food item the military believes you should need, plus copious amounts of cigarettes  squeezed onto tall shelves creating narrow isles and then another isle filled with fantastic delicacies from around the world and available only to military personnel in said commissary. The isles were wide enough for only one cart at a time making it virtually impossible to actually pass another DW if you, for example, forgot something on a previous isle or just wanted something from the World Wide Delicacy Isle to serve at the always popular wives club meeting.  Well the commissary being a part of the military was run, well militaristically, and in so doing and knowing how unruly dependent wives can be ( insert sarcasm here) they had a plan to keep us in order in the form of arrows painted on the floor.  That's right, and I am not making this up, there were arrows not unlike a parking lot at Wal-Mart,  painted on the floor so when you arrived and grabbed your government issued grocery cart you just got in line and followed the arrows up and back winding your way through the store, regardless of what you needed or how your list was written (it didn't take long to learn to write a list that followed the arrows, because Heaven help the DW who forgot something and had to get out of the line and start all over because she forgot the Cherrios but did not realize it until she hit the cigarette isle).

  Another type of culture shock came in the form of the Military Wife (DW) herself.  It was a rare woman who did not, in one way or another, wear her husbands rank on her own sleeve. Early in this journey I met a woman, who lived just a few doors down, would wear one of her husbands 14 kt gold dress medals (a SWO pin to be exact) because she thought it was "cute."  Later I met (and became close friends with) a woman who lived near us in Lualualei, HI and referred to the "food chain" of military wives who wore their husband rank, I couldn't agree more and we laughed about that and them many times.  Yes, I wore my husbands rank a few times and I am not ashamed to admit to the fact that when the wives would get together at the O' Club (officers club) also known as Top O' the Mar on Guam; I would, with great pride, drive up in our full size green Chevy pickup, windows down (it had no aircon), and Alpine stereo blaring and park in the very front spot reserved for "Any Ensign" (for those unfamiliar with Navy rank, an Ensign is the most junior of all officer ranks and all ranks higher typically look down on the lowly Ensign). Hey, I didn't care who laughed because I was parked up front while the rest of the ladies had to park much farther away, and in that oppressive heat and humidity I would take advantage of that parking spot every time it was available.

  What truly sticks in my mind  when looking back to those early Navy years for me was one woman in particular whose husband had risen from an Army E-1 in Vietnam to a Navy O-4 (no small achievement by any standard), she had seen it all.  She was younger than he and older than me by more than a few years and looked sweet as could be, but make no mistake when dealing with her she was as tough as they came.  One of her many 'policies' about life was in regards to sharing her recipes with other DW's;  when complimented on a dish she brought to a wives club meeting or event she would give gracious thanks but once again, Heaven help the lowly Ensign wife who dared to ask for the recipe! Her policy as she put it, was to NEVER share a recipe with anyone for any reason as long as they were stationed at the same place or could possibly be invited to the same event because after all, they could possibly make it better than she and how embarrassing that would be.  She later told me that if she stalled long enough the offending Ensign wife would either forget or give up asking therefore ensuring the safety of her prized chicken-pimento-rice-drenched-in-cream-of-mushroom-soup-casserole legacy.

  With all of that being said please let me continue to My New Favorite Chili Recipe.  Should you chose to make this please be assured that I will neither hunt you down nor throw my husbands rank at you, and if you enter this in a competition and win please give a nod to this old Navy wife and all of the arrows I have had to follow in order to purchase the ingredients and perfect this recipe over the years.

  While cooking I tend to shoot from the hip, that is I rarely follow a recipe regardless of whether I am baking bread, making chicken soup or chili.  I do however wish to share my latest batch of chili with you because it turned out to be one of the best I have ever made and if for no other reason, I don't want to forget what I put into my favorite pot. These measurements are approximate at best:

1/4 pound ground beef

1/4 pound sausage

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic

(combine meat and cook until brown with onion and garlic)

Add to that

1 can pinto beans, drained

1 can black beans, drained

1 can chili beans with liquid

1 can stewed tomatoes

1 can crushed tomatoes

1 small jar White Girl Salsa (yes, that is what it is called and I purchased it at Whole Foods)

4 small or 2 large tomatillos diced

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, smashed or diced

1/4 cup uncooked grits (or corn meal)

1/4 cup brown sugar

1-2 tsp salt & pepper

1/4 cup Merlot or 1 bottle amber ale

Let simmer all day and serve with cheese and sour cream.