Tonight is the night when I was planning to drive down to Green Bay (about 130 miles away--yes, THAT Green Bay) to take my wife to a cooking school. We were going to spend the night down there and drive home the next day.
Alas, we forgot to order tickets until the Green Bay event was sold out. But the same cooking school was taking place in Marquette (90 miles or so away) two days earlier, so I exited work early on Monday, and soon we were on our way to the Taste of Home Cooking School, sponsored by Taste of Home magazine.
We had been to one about two years ago, in Escanaba, and agreed we'll go to another. Basically what happens is that there are lot of vendors in a big hall, selling their wares and offering some goodies.
The main event is on a stage (with big-screen TVs on either side) where some recipes are demonstrated and made right before your very eyes. Also up on stage are bags and bags of stuff and various dishes and grills and stuff like that. (You can tell a male is writing this, right?)
As we entered and registered, we got "goodie bags" with Taste of Home's various recipe magazines, coupons, offers and a free sample or two. (Nothing more exotic than paper towels, however.)
The host told a joke about the guy who couldn't find a place to park his car when he was running late. "Lord," he said, "help me find a parking space, and I'll quit drinking for a year." Then he suddenly saw an open slot. "Never mind, Lord--I just found one!"
The main event is the "presenter," a professional home economist who tours the Midwest on behalf of Taste of Home. She walked the audience through the process of making a number of "Simple Celebrations" dishes, demonstrating how you make them, inserting a hint or two along the way. "Are we ready to do some cooking?" "Yeah!!!" the audience responded.
Of course, she has all the nicest kitchen gadgets and tools available. But she did one thing that you wouldn't ever expect a home economist to do: After using a product, such as soup or spaghetti sauce, she lays the container on its side nearby. Why the heck would she do this?
The answer was suspended overhead: a tiny TV camera (see that little white thing above them?), pointing straight down. On either side, those big-screen TVs showed what the camera was seeing. And there, besides the mixing bowls and utensils and the nearly finished chicken parmagiana, was the product, big as day, right side up and brand name in full view. Ahhh!
Incidentally, when she used some non-stick cooking spray, she didn't mention the brand name and put the can off to the side, out of sight, when done. "I guess they couldn't get a sponsor for that," I whispered to my wife, who nodded.
They fudged here and there for time purposes. We didn't twiddle our thumbs for the "bake 10 minutes" part, for instance. "We'll put that in the refrigerator. And now, from our magic kitchen ... " ... "Luckily, we made one this morning ..."
Short videos were run on the TV screens as they cleared away one dish and set up for the next one. She showed a number of tricks. One was making a votive candle holder out of an orange--the orange was cut in half, and the inside of the orange came out just as nice as you please. "Don't you wish it came out like that?" she asked. Her secret remained a secret.
Not everything went perfectly. The final recipe of the day was for a jelly roll. She demonstrated how to make the roll part--then (to avoid waiting 10 minutes) another jelly roll was brought out. But this one had a big crack in it. "Hopefully, yours doesn't do that."
They had a lot of giveaways--each of the dishes she prepared, with some of the special utensils and dishes and all those bags of groceries. My wife won a cookie press two years ago. This year, not so lucky. Also, two years ago, a sponsor was giving away pieces of cookware. Not this time.
But it was a fun night, anyway. We did a little shopping after it ended, then settled in for the long drive home. Got back home at 11:30 p.m., fed the kitties and headed to bed.
(OK, good enough. Canadiens 1, Hurricanes 1, heading into overtime. Time to stop writing.)
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