This morning, our plan of attack was to cover the third floor of the show, the smaller of the two rooms. This was clearly the party floor. Why? Well, let's see.
For one, there were mobiles. Meat mobiles. We were not allowed to bite the meat mobiles, despite insisting that it was one of the duties of the press to bite them.
For another, an automatic pitching machine with oranges, lemons, and limes instead of baseballs, and slicing instead of pitching. Okay, so that last one was a stretch. But it looks like an awesome and potentially dangerous vending machine.
You want mascots? They had mascots. They made our panda friend look like a cuddly, harmless beast compared to Banjo McFurryPants over here. Yeah, I still gave him a hug.
Mexico bequeathed us with black pepper watermelon cocktails...
And Beemster gave us a gigantic cow cheese wheel. We watched it being carved as well, and it was gorgeous. I think their mascot liked it, too...
He gave Swagger a pretty awesome fist bump.
One of the definite trends of this year's show was the surge of naturally colored nectar, juice, and sauce. In eye-popping colors and clear packages, it really captured our attention and tastebuds. This was just one of many differently colored treats.
But the third floor was definitely a wild card. We were surrounded by things like...
Energy drinks for children!
New chocolates and old books from Vosges!
Rick Bayless and salsa by Rick Bayless!
Chocolate fracturing!
Scary popping rice cakes!
Nitrogen blowing ice cream!
Of course, that's not saying that the first floor wasn't just as awesome as the third. After all, the third floor didn't have a food truck with wonderful ladies handing out lunchtime necessities.
And it certainly didn't have gigantic, baseball bat sized hot chocolate stirrers or the newest product from Honest Tea.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that, in case you haven't figured it out, we love the Fancy Food Show. We love the friendly photos with Natalie's Juice people...
And we love the anxiety-inducing potential of imbibing naturally black water and quickly vomiting it upon realizing that there is a distinct possibility of us (yes, US) making an appearance on The Real Housewives of New Jersey. The Dalai Lama would be proud. The two least Italian or New Jersey-looking people ever.
See you next year! We're sad to go!
No comments:
Post a Comment