When Crockpots Happen to Good Cooks

At least once a year the Crockpot calls to me.  I shouldn't listen.  I know better.  But still I head the invitation.  I guess this is the fate of a culinary optimist.  Beef Tamale Crockpot Pie sounded like perfect Sunday afternoon football food, especially with our lawn covered in snow and my better sense blinded with hope. 

Beef Tamale Crockpot Pie is neither pie nor perfect.  A strange quivering mass of cornbread formed (what can only be described as) a jaundiced elephant's liver on top of the shiny beef chili mixture.  Is this normal?  Do Crockpot aficionados conclude successful slow cooker sessions with a pot full of yuck?

If you hear rustlings next year as I pull the slow cooker from its place on the back shelf, please stage an intervention.