Green chili. Red chili. Chili rellenos. Chili con queso. The word stood out on the menu like an intentional affront, dismissing all notions of regional American-Mexican food with a simple refusal to differentiate between two vowels at the end of a single, all-important word. At Brewery Bar II, though, the difference between chili and chile isn't something you talk about; you'd only provoke mistrust and apprehension. In fact, talking about food too much is probably just a bad idea. Football, power tools, shipping and receiving, the price of a gallon of gas: These are all fair game. But food is just a big mess of ingredients you shovel in between swallows of beer, not something you have opinions about, unless that opinion is a muffled, "Hey, this is pretty fuckin' good," spoken around a mouthful of cheese and pork and flour tortilla.