Cincinnati in a Can?

So I am the first in line when it comes to bashing the great state I(and my mom and my dad and my grandparents--three generations baby!) was born in. Bad politics? Check. Extreme apathy? Check. Expanse of suburban lawns and tract housing? Check. Boooooring? Check, check, check. But I MISS their food. Oh how I long for some skyline on those long cold winter nights. Sadly, when I am in Boston, I must settle for the not-quite-as-good substitutes. My palms sweat when I think about Cincinnati chili and it pains me greatly to think that our daughter will be New England bred and may never appreciate the finer points of gelatinous D-grade meat poured over cheap, overcooked spaghetti with strands of full-fat cheddar piled on top (sound good, huh??). It has been my number one pregnancy craving. R has just informed that although he will be gracing OH with his presence this weekend, he will NOT be returning with a three way and a cheese coney (as I requested) because of tight plane restrictions. Just one more reason to hate Bin Laden. Luckily, I have found this and although it is not the same as following up a steaming three-way (with that perfectly grated cheese) with some graeter's, it is the closest this New Englander may ever get again.