Now I know how the pilots not selected for the space program must feel. My dreams of winning the Damon's recipe contest have been thwarted by barley soup and chicken salad! My years of preparation and testing have all been for naught. I could go back to the drawing board and prepare for next year? I could also sell my kitchen appliances accept that some things are not meant to be!
I went into this culinary competition with a plan, a strategy, a secret weapon if you will. The best recipe wasn't going to be the one that won, and obviously it didn't. The winner of this gastronomic battle would be the one that could be reproduced cheaply. Oh yeah, they weren't going to go for a Maryland crab dish, or shrimp kabobs. Chicken salad! How mundane! I can make chicken salad out of anything! Cheap was king. Since they were going to serve the winning recipes for free to the patrons of the Perry Hall festival, cheap and easy was the winning strategy. Barley soup!
I had a chicken dish too, but no, they didn't want flavorful. My pounded chicken is world renowned! All right, my kids love it, but kids have to eat too. It's so juicy you could give it away and sell napkins. Now that's juicy! I didn't see zucchini fritters on the list of winning celebrity chef offerings. I can get my kids to eat zucchini for Lord's sake! Does Damon's know what they missed? Do they care that I sit and ponder what may have been? They don't care! They're a heartless corporation, not in the business of dream realization!
Do you think the battle could have been lost before it began? I'm not saying I wasn't prepared, I'm saying I was robbed! I bet the winners were employees of Rachel Ray! I'm glad I didn't win! If they had picked me I would have declined the nomination! Yeah, I would have said no, find someone else to heap the adulation and trimmings of victory upon! Yeah, you can take that to the bank and smoke it! All in all I have nothing to be ashamed of. I gave it my best shot and was royally screwed out of the victory! If they think I'm doing it again next year, they are dead on right. I shall be avenged and my triumph will be told for centuries to recipe contest hopefuls with a dream.
p.s. Send me what you think would be a winning recipe. Maybe I'll steal it for next year?