I was asked to do a cooking competition at Blogher and I would have said no except that they said that I could create whatever I wanted and that the judge would be Padma from Top Chef so of course I was all “I’m in”. Everyone I was competing against in my heat made stuff like “stuffed artichoke areola some-thing-or-another” but I figured if I’m going to do this I should totally carb-load the sandwich because Padma needs to eat something, y’all.
My sandwich ingredients were white bread, ham, chocolate fudge, gummi bears, m&m’s, whipped cream, more chocolate fudge (for bonding), caramel corn and packets of sweet-and-low stolen from the hotel.
Padma looked horrified and not in a good way and I explained that this was a sandwich I made for my daughter all the time and that my kid really likes it although she does have severe diabetes but that I still make it for her because I believe in “tough love” and then Padma looked a little appalled and she was all “Your daughter is diabetic…and you’re making this?” and I’m all “Yep” and then I squirted some whipped cream directly into my mouth to get me to stop talking because at that point even I wanted me to shut up but I overshot and sparklets of whipped cream shot onto Padma and she looked unpleased.
Then the sandwiches went for judging and when Padma picked mine up she was all “I’m gonna need a wet wipe” and I turned to the girl next to me and I was all “Hell yeah. My sandwich is so sexy she’s gonna need a wet wipe” and the girl next to me was all “I don’t think that’s what she means” and I decided to ignore her because it’s pretty obvious that she was just trying to psyche me out.
But then Padma refused to eat my sandwich and I was all “FUCKING SHENANIGANS!” but she totally ignored me. But the other judges were all kids so I figured I was totally winning but then the votes were tallied and then Padma called out who was moving on to the next heat and it was EVERYBODY IN THE COMPETITION BUT ME. I shit you not.
And I was all “WTF? I was robbed” but then I was like “Wait, where would they get a bunch of kid judges at an adult conference?” and I decided they were most likely stolen from an orphanage and the orphans probably just weren’t used to that level of love in a sandwich. Also, I may have given them all diabetes and I think giving diseases to orphans probably counts against you on your sandwich score card and probably in life in general.
PPS. Photos taken by Karen, then vandalized by me.
PPPS. This is the worst picture of me in the history of the world but I’m including it because it kind of sums up the whole day:
Part 4 of Blogher still to come. Someone get me some ritalin.