Judgement Day

Until this month, I can only think of one other time in my life when I was asked to judge some type of contest.  That was at least 20 years ago, when I judged written essays in a small scholarship competition.

I got to experience another form of judging this month at the Iowa State Fair.  For over two decades, my spouse and daughters have been entering food baking competitions there.  This year, we decided we wanted to see what it was like on the other side of the table, so we sponsored our own category.  This not only allowed our family to choose the category, but also choose the judges -- us, of course.

Months ago, we decided our competition would be chocolate raspberry dessert, and we provided our clever category name:  Death By Chocolate Raspberry.  This choice was largely based on my own bias for that type of dessert.  To ensure we'd have some entries, we put up $100 in prize money -- $60 for first, $30 for second, and $10 for third.

Judgment day came, and we were pleased to have 14 state fair entries with plenty of variety.  There were chocolate raspberry cheesecakes, cupcakes, brownies, and more.  As with most food categories, the entries weren't judged solely on flavor.  We had decided to use three criteria: 50% of the points were based on taste, 25% on appearance, and 25% on creativity.

Influenced by both time and a desire to not get sick, we judges divided the items among us, selected our favorites (the highest point-getters), and then got together to determine the best of the best.  In the end, a mocha chocolate, raspberry-filled cupcake came out on top, and a great time was had by all.

I hope to be a judge in the future for this or another Iowa State Fair food category.  Like anything else, after having experienced it for the first time, I'd be much better at it the next time.  Knowing what to look for in the recipe / item, what to say (or not to say) on the entrant comment cards, and how to consistently score different types of entries will all be more second-nature to me.

Also, I like eating.

When Being Close Counts

I attended another Iowa State Fair this year.  It’s only a small exaggeration to say every time I go, my dozen or so hours there are segmented into roughly 30 minutes each, during which I visit the same exhibits and venues that I do every year.

However, I do try to take in something different every year (besides new fair food).  Last year, it was arm wrestling.

This year’s new thing was spending about an hour watching horseshoe pitching.  Not just any horseshoe pitching, mind you, but the Iowa State Fair Women’s Horseshoe Pitching Championship.

After acquainting myself with the scoring (3 points for a ringer, 1 point for being within six inches – you’ve heard the phrase about close only counting in horseshoes, right?), I settled in to watch a few simultaneous matches.  And then it hit me.

Horseshoes is the more rudimentary ancestor to today’s popular ‘bags’ game that so many can be found playing at picnics, or tailgating events.  Other people probably figured that out a long time ago, but only now did I gain enough insight to make the connection.

You stand about equally as far away from the target.  You throw two shoes (bags), and the other person throws two, with more points for shoes around the ringer (bags in the hole).  Missing the target, but still being close, may get you points.  Winner is the first to a certain number of points.

The only real difference in the two games, other than the horseshoe pit being dirtier, is that horseshoe pitchers are better athletes.  I’m serious.  It takes almost no effort to toss a lightweight beanbag, but it takes a measure of strength and effort to toss metal horseshoes for a while.  It’s more like bowling, in that regard.

Except close doesn’t count in bowling.

Cash Only

Iowa is a state where the modern does battle with the anachronistic on a daily basis.  There is no better example of this than the Iowa State Fair, where you see both designer clothes and bib overalls.  Where you see both major music acts and fiddlers on stage.  Where you see both presidential candidates and carnies.

But there is apparently one thing Iowans will not allow to be modernized, namely how they pay for their fair food.  Last week the state fair caused a furor by saying they were implementing a pay-by-ticket policy on food, where fair-goers would first have to purchase tickets for $.50, and then use them for their food purchases.

This is probably a thinly-veiled attempt by the fair to keep concession stands honest when reporting their food sales, from which the fair gets a cut.  It seemed benign enough though, right?  I mean, we've all been places where we exchange tickets rather than cash for food or beverages.  Plus, it would be safer for all those making night deposits of cash.

Instead, the blue-collar resistors of change that apparently are at the core of the Iowa State Fair rose up, and using social media (who knew?), they slayed the ticket dragon.  My goodness, stand in one line to get tickets before standing in another to get their fried-on-a-stick food?  Outrageous!

It didn't hurt that governor-for-life Terry Branstad weighed in that the fair should reconsider.  Like he ever goes to the fair and buys fair food with cash.  It also came out that the guv is on the state fair board, but never goes to the meetings.  Maybe he should at least start reading the meeting minutes.

So the fair is going back to the old (read: current) cash-for-food method.  The question is in 10 years, when we'll all be paying for things by debiting from our cell phones instead of cash or tickets, will the agents of non-change rise up again in the defense of anachronism?

More Observations From The Iowa State Fair

A year ago I blogged about seeing way too many overweight people at the Iowa State Fair. I also went on to suggest a tax that might help stem the tide of obesity in Iowa/America.
http://streffblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/tax-on-fat-people.html

During my annual visit to the fair this year, I made a few more observations:

*Tattoos are everywhere, and I'm not talking about the little guy from Fantasy Island. I'd estimate 1 out of every 10 people at the fair had a tattoo, but increase that to 1 out of every 5 people under the age of 40, and 1 out of every 3 between the ages of 20-35. And that only counts the visible tattoos; it might be 50% or more under age 35. It's just part of being young now, similar to ear piercing in my generation.

*If you want to surpress your appetite, closely watch what's happening in most of the temporary food stands. They're often dirty and smelly, meaning both the stands and some of the people working in them. And the food is, um, greasy. One image I still can't get out of my head was the guy who turned over the french fries basket to dump the latest load in a pan - only to have it fall out of the basket still molded in the rectangular shape of the basket! Perhaps this is actually a new fair food item: French Fry Loaf.

*Free entertainment at the fair still kicks butt. There's a variety of live music, demonstrations, and contests to watch. This year I caught a glimpse of the Mr. Legs Contest. As I tweeted at the time, I chose not to participate because I didn't want to demoralize the competition, and because I don't think it's right for pros like me to compete with amatuers. Regardless, the price of admission buys you a lot of value at the Iowa State Fair.

*Generally speaking, people are still fat.

A Tax On Fat People

In the first 15 minutes of our visit to this year's Iowa State Fair, my wife made an all-too-true observation: Out of the thousands of people there, 9 out of 10 were overweight, and plenty of them would fit the description of obese. It's a very bad thing.

Forget about the obvious physical issues for these folks. Their lack of self/health discipline also burdens others via their lower production and higher health care costs. They are not going to reach their potential as individuals, and we are not going to reach our potential as a country, by being fat. Put into that perspective, it sort of ticks me off.

So how do we get very overwieght people to care more? How do we motivate them to lose weight? I've always advocated a tax on higher fat foods and ingredients. We all know money motivates people. We tax tobacco (as we should), surely we can do it for food.

I suppose that may be treating the symptom and not the disease. In the end, the answer lies in why fat people don't care about how they feel or look. When someone figures that out, please call me. I'll be somewhere exercising.