We are given to believe that on social media, the “Honourable” Sheriff Mikey Fisher has claimed to have won this year’s Great Yuba Pass Chili Cook-off. There is even a picture circulating accompanying that claim. There’s always the one guy who didn’t get the memo. The festivity had been postponed to Saturday, March 9. Or perhaps we are being too charitable. Far be it from us to accuse Sierra County’s governing clique of being corrupt. But not that far. It may be the threat of mass incarceration discouraged participation. It may be the Sheriff’s closing the road had some effect. While there are no rules in the Chili Cook-off, and thus no requirement to bribe the judges, there is an understanding of proper form. Obviously, the honorable Sheriff did not have the common human decency to have judges to bribe. But there are no rules. As we are told, genealogists consider 30 years to be a couple of generations. We would dispute that, until we reviewed a list of the winners, over these last 30 years, of the Great Yuba Pass Chili Cook-off. We are reminded there are a lot of dead people we used to know. But perhaps the most remarkable thing about that premier social event of the year is that it is still happening. The silly idea of a culinary competition in the dead of winter quickly took on a life of its own, requiring no organizers and no real organization. Given the anarchist nature of the earliest participants, this may not be so surprising. There are no rules. Except the event is always held the first Saturday of March, except this year when it wasn’t. There was a time when it was considered poor form not to concoct the whole offering at the Pass. Then the wind came up, driving snow sideways, making it virtually impossible to put heat into the pan as fast as the snow blew it away. Poor form gave way to necessity. And so in 1994, the first year, Calpine’s “J.J.” Janzen took first place. Back in those days, judges were chosen from those seeking elected office in this quaint and rural county, the idea being that an office seeker couldn’t risk not showing up to the County’s Premier Social Event. Further, that worthy would end up insulting all but one of the cooks. It seemed the perfect revenge on those who would govern us. Given all the judges that first year were old white guys, they had little previous exposure to real chili. (Our own exposure happened in the panhandle of Texas on a Route 66 road trip from Pittsburgh to L.A., where we discovered that significantly hot chili had a psychedelic effect, an experience with which we were no stranger.) But our local judges had no experience with chili that didn’t require a can opener. And thus the secret of J.J.’s success: two number 10 cans of Stagg Chili with some course-ground beef added. We do not recall what J.J. called his concoction, but it has been called Open Da Can Chili ever after. Loyalton’s Andy White changed local customs as he began competing in the International Chili Society. Terminally pure in their definition of the dish, Andy spent a small fortune on his specific ingredients and became everyone’s target, as his chili is always very, very good. This writer’s worst fear was realized when the ICS belatedly agreed that chili verdi is, in fact, chili. This writer previously had a monopoly on that dish. Andy promptly brewed up a batch of chili verdi and smoked us. Andy’s effect on the cook-off became clear the following year when Loyalton’s Danny Hensen’s Habanero Delight took first place. You can break a sweat by looking at a habanero chili the wrong way, but Danny pulled it off with remarkably parsimonious bribery. 1996 was Andy White’s first trophy with his Head First Chili. His dish was named in memory of falling off the top of his truck at a Reno ICS competition. 1997 proved that good advertising will always triumph over quality. Downieville’s Rick Clough had written months of letters in this august rag, whining and touting the inevitability of his win. To other cooks, Clough’s offering tasted a lot like spaghetti sauce, but it was sufficient to take the trophy to the St. Charles Place, where Rick presided over dispensing potables. Sierraville’s Bill Fowler was one of the original rib cook-off gang that decided to hold the winter competition. In 1998, his name was added to the first-place Chili trophy. We believe it was that year when weather became a serious factor. Contestants had become much fancier in their booths and displays, several featuring umbrellas and fancy little tables. After a reasonably pleasant morning, a west wind kicked up, toppling several of those tables and umbrellas, resulting in several full pots of chili hitting the ground. The dogs had a field day. Joleen Torri and Casey Killebrew had a very large and good-natured mutt, which promptly became the King of Spilled Chili, eating one full pot and letting the other dogs contest for the others. Casey and Joleen complained of the resulting digestive distress and aromatic emanations for the next week. Calpine’s Joann Chesney, a Louisiana refugee, took the ‘99 trophy with her Cajun Gator chili. We cannot verify exactly what meat she used, but it was her story, and she stuck to it: alligator. It may have been, but watching those coon-ass gator-catching television shows, shows a lot of gators become cowboy boots, but we never heard how the rest of them are used. In the parlance of the competition, a ‘hat trick’ is to take ass last one year, then first place the following. In 2000, Bobby Bowman was the first to accomplish that feat, winning with his Loganville Lamb chili. The first dynasty of the cook-off lasted from 2001 to 2006. Those years saw Downieville’s Rick Simi take first with his Road Hog chili, followed by his “Tattoo You” chili the following year, then Chesney’s “Cajun Gator,” again, then Simi’s “Road House”, and Andy White’s “Head First” chili in 2006. Somewhere in there, Simi also managed a hat trick. Uppity women held sway for the next three years. In 2007, Downieville’s Gals on Grapes, a group that met regularly at the Downieville pub took first place with their “Sour Grapes Girls’” chili. Janine Hudson’s “Rattlesnake” chili won the next year, followed by Marian LaFollette’s “Mom’s” chili in 2009. Marian was kin to “Fighting Bob” LaFollette, once governor of Wisconsin and U.S. senator on the Progressive Party ticket. Marian, who served five terms in the California Assembly, had defected to the Republican Party. In 2010, Danny Henson made his second appearance on the First Place trophy with “Habanero Delight.” We believe that was the year, in a howling blizzard, that Billy Epps made a loop through contestants, collecting tasting cups from each, which he then put in a pot that he offered as his own creation. You gotta give him style points, but it didn’t work out well. Alleghany’s Carrie Loving made her first appearance at the cook-off the following year, and successfully so. Her “Alleghany Green, No, There’s No Marijuana In It” chili took first place. In 2012 and 2013, cooking for ECV Chapter 1849, Kim Sharp’s “Widder” chili swept the sweepstakes. Loyalton’s Mike Hudson took first in 2014 with his “Hump Day” chili, six years after his wife had her name placed on the trophy. Mike’s win was the last east side victory before another dynasty took over. In 2015, Kim Sharp’s widower, Steve, and Jenny Varn, Downievillains, successfully plotted on the white folks to take first place with their “No Gas At The Pass” chili. The following year, Downieville’s Mike Gallan’s “Bourbon and Beer” chili captured first place. In 2017, it was Sharp and Varn’s “Holy Moly Frijole Posole” making a comeback before surrendering to Galan again in 2018. The following three years were owned by the Sharp/Varn machine: “St. Charles Chili Fries,” “In the Bag” chili, then “Free Beer” chili. About all we remember of these years was the bribes were magnificent. In 2022, Andy White’s “Lizard Country” chili came storming back to snatch the prize from more worthy contestants. Having broken the back of the west side dynasty, Sierraville restauranteurs Amy and Amanda, the Farm House Girls, offered a regime change, capturing first place with their “Chicks and Chili” last year. We offer a little creative sniveling by noting the power was off for the week on the west side, roads to suppliers were closed, and the prospect of going up to Yuba Pass to get wet, cold, and miserable, returning to a cold and dark home proved too daunting for the west side wimps. So here we go again: the first Saturday in March was postponed by a week this year. As ever, you enter by showing up. Bring everything you’ll need, including tasting cups for the huddled masses wanting to be fed. Nothing is offered beyond what you can bum from fellow cooks. Bribery is encouraged, Judges rarely stay bought. The quality of your chili is only tangentially related to winning. There are no rules: if you say it is chili, it is.A Somewhat Reliable History of the Great Yuba Pass Chili Cook-off
From The Mountain Messenger’s coverage of the inaugural Great Yuba Pass Chili Cook-off in 1994: At left, holding the first place trophy for the Great Yuba Pass Chili Cook-Off, Sierraville’s Jim Jansen. At right, wearing what didn’t go into the pot, Sierraville’s Wes Fowler proudly displays the second place award.