I, cook-off judge: common tater commentator in festival

Palm Coast Observer
Opinion

As I walked into the Bunnell City Hall Saturday, May 19, 18 tables with political advertisements greeted me. Candidates and their lackeys scurried around the room looking for extension cords and putting the finishing touches on their dishes before tasting began.

When I reached the back of the room, there was a single table with three white chef’s hats sitting atop a red table cloth. The brims of the hats were embroidered with the word, “Judge.” I had found my seat.

That’s right. I was a judge at the Political Potato Cook-off. I quickly took my seat, envisioning that I was in Kitchen Stadium and about to judge a five-course meal cooked by an Iron Chef.

To the left of me was Connie Rice, of the Daytona Food Examiner, and soon, Mike Goodman, of Captain’s BBQ and Bait & Tackle, took his seat to my right.

As soon as Goodman sat down, he wanted to know his fellow judges’ credentials. “Where are you from? What’s your experience in the culinary world?” he asked. Having no formal training in culinary, other then the various restaurants I worked at in college, I sheepishly told him that I write about food for The Observer. Why? Well, simply because I like food.

Enough small talk. The first dish was quickly making its way to the judging table, carried by none other than Clerk of Courts Gail Wadsworth. She presented us a tray with three potato macaroons strategically placed on three red plates with “Vote for Gail Wadsworth” stickers slapped on the upper right corner.

“Eat dessert first,” she said as she dropped the tray off.

The judging had officially begun. Dishes poured in and soon the table was overflowing, so much so that I was forced to move my “Judge” chef’s hat from the table to my head, to make room. I was the only one wearing the hat.

Potato salad, mashed potatoes, au gratin potatoes, potato salad, potato salad … Only 10 dishes in and I was starting to get burned out.

For a minute, the whole judging panel felt and looked as if we were going to be sick. But like professionals, we soldiered on. Bite after bite. There was a soup here and there, potato bread and some sweet potato attempts. There were bland dishes and seasoned dished and the occasional dish that included the super ingredient, bacon.

One of my fellow judges loved every dish. The other didn’t like any. Our seating placements were perfect, because I was in between both in position and scoring.

A potato ball was dropped off at the table.

Following another potato salad, the judges were handed a tray with relleno de papas, or meat-stuffed potatoes.

These potato beauties, fresh out of the fryer, packed the perfect balance of spice and meat snuggled securely inside a ball of mashed potato. Genius.

After tasting all 18 dishes, we judges had our work cut out for us, but there was no question which dish rose to the top.

The real question is how long it will take me to eat potatoes again.