I was going to write Cincinnati WKRP, but apparently that was the name of a show in the 70s, and I’m trying to keep things original.

I’ve always wanted to go to Cincinnati.  There’s so many great things here.  Like the William Howard Taft National Historic Site (not a website, a realsite).   This place features an animatronical, um, animatronic, in the image of one of Taft’s sons!  Animatronics.  I can’t get enough of them.  I wish I had an entire army of them at my disposal to crush my enemies and…sorry, I digress.  That’s for another blog.

There’s no time for Taft now.  What time is it then, you ask?  Chili Time! Not just any chili.  No.  This, my friends, is Cincinnati chili.

Cincinnati chili is unique in that it is served in Cincinnati.  Also, on top of spaghetti.  Oh yes, you read that right.  Spaghetti.  And I’m Italian.  So if anyone should be repulsed and offended by putting chili and cheddar cheese on top of spaghetti, it should be me.  But, as my people will tell you (in terrible English, mind you) delicious trumps weird. And, this dish is delish!  Except…

A deliciousness void in the city of Cincinnati.  Rob has made it at home.  One of the best things we’ve ever eaten.  Ryan, the less famo(u)s animatronical brother of Rob, loved it.  RYAN!  He’s like Mikey for the 2ks. (Mikey!)

Imagine the disappointment of sitting down, ordering it 5 ways. No, not an obscene gesture on Chat Roulette.  That means with the chili (1), onions (2), cheese (3), beans (4), and something else that would be (5).  And it wasn’t good.  Really.  It was so bland, and this is a food that is the mortal enemy of bland.
An off night?  Perhaps.  A bad place to choose? Most likely.  A definite recommend is to eat the chili at Rob’s place; or, barring that option, one of the finer dining establishments in Cincinnati.
That’s it.  That is all.  Cincinnati is behind us now.  Nashville awaits.  I just wonder: in Nashville, do they think that Turkeys can fly?