You know those mornings when you just wake up super early because you know something exciting is going to happen?
Like the first day of school when you're a kid. Or your birthday. Or the day you leave for vacation.
Well that was me at about 5:50 a.m. I had my alarm set for 6 a.m., but was fully alert and moving before the chimes rang. I knew today was the day I would get to meet Bobby.
If you know me, you know I'm not a morning person. I have trouble getting to work by 9 a.m. This was a real feat for me.
I found out about Bobby Flay's visit to the New York State fair several months ago. One of my pals at The Daily Orange at SU saw a Throwdown reference on my Facebook page and asked if I knew he was coming. I'd already been thinking of a trip to Buffalo anyway, so figured I could just extend my visit. I bought a plane ticket, ordered a Mesa Grill cookbook and was all ready to come see Bobby.
This morning I made my parents get up and on the road by 7 a.m. ish to begin the two and a half hour drive to Syracuse. I wanted to make sure we got their early enough for a spot in line or a seat at the demonstration.
The prospect of meeting Bobby Flay had me in a tizzy all morning, little butterflies of excitement fluttering around all inside me. As I left my bedroom I looked at a bag of Fowler's chocolates I bought earlier this week. I thought "Maybe Bobby would like some chocolate shaped like Buffalo chicken wings" and brought a packet of them with me.
Our early arrival - three hours before his demo - paid off. As soon as we staked out a bench in the shade, Bobby made his first appearance on the stage to do an interview with some sort of radio or tv morning show. There were also already about 100 people there already waiting.
I was actually going to go easy on the stalking this trip, but after Bobby left the stage my mom suggested that my dad and I try to follow him. We did. When we lost him - I've read that Bobby runs marathons - mom suggested we go wander around the fair to try and find him. I think she just wanted to point us in the snack direction and have some peace to do her Sudoku.
We returned with some fried dough, french fries, dippin dots and a Dinosaur BBQ sandwich to wait out the rest of the time before the demo. The place filled up fast and was - not surprisingly - standing room only. I'd guess there were about 1,000 people.
We also watched his Throwdown assistant Stephanie spend about two hours on stage prepping the food for him and getting ready (with two of her own assistants). That was all pretty entertaining.
Then at 1 Bobby took the stage, strolled comfortably behind the stove and whipped up a meal made of NY state ingredients - polenta with wild mushrooms, sweet potato gratin and a pork tenderloin with apple chutney. It all looked so yummy. Bobby said the recipes will be on the fair web site, so when I find them I will post the link to them.
Our three hours of wait time gave my parents and I plenty of time to strategize the best way to get from our benches to the line for the cookbook signing. I bolted over as soon as the demo ended, but still ended up about 200 people back, putting me on shaky ground for whether I would actually make it in the one hour period.
But then Bobby showed up a little early, and even extended his signing period (after apparently scoring a police escort to catch a plane at the airport).
By the time we got close to the front of the line, my little gift of Buffalo wing-shaped chocolate had started melting. Then to make it worse, I accidentally dropped them, crushing them into an ambiguous looking pile of semi-melted chocolate in a plastic bag tied with pink curling ribbon.
"Does it look too bad to give him?" I asked my mom.
She looked at the bag and kind of held back a laugh.
"Well you can just tell him it didn't survive the line. He can put it in the freezer."
I thought about this, and then replied "I guess I've done stupider things."
For example, say things like stupider.
So that's exactly what I did. As we got to the front of the line I flipped my book open to the first page, handed it to the woman who would give it to Bobby, walked up to him and spent the 10 seconds it took him to scrawl his name rambling about the chocolate.
"Oh," he said. "OK. Thanks."
Despite the limited exchange, I'd say Bobby Flay seems like a nice guy, contrary to some other rumors out there. During his morning show interview and demo he seemed genuinely fun and somewhat modest. It must be tiring - and crappy to some extent - to spend your day getting ushered all around a state fair, have to do a cooking demo in the blazing sun and then have to sign 400 people's cookbooks.
I did manage to get a quick picture before being shooed away by fair security. I forgot to invite him to the National Chicken Wing Festival. There was no time to tell him how much I love his chicken cacciatore.
But that's ok. The goal was to get my cookbook signed and see the demo. Besides, that gives me a reason to go to one of his restaurants. Maybe he'll be there. I can bring him better chocolate.
Like the first day of school when you're a kid. Or your birthday. Or the day you leave for vacation.
Well that was me at about 5:50 a.m. I had my alarm set for 6 a.m., but was fully alert and moving before the chimes rang. I knew today was the day I would get to meet Bobby.
If you know me, you know I'm not a morning person. I have trouble getting to work by 9 a.m. This was a real feat for me.
I found out about Bobby Flay's visit to the New York State fair several months ago. One of my pals at The Daily Orange at SU saw a Throwdown reference on my Facebook page and asked if I knew he was coming. I'd already been thinking of a trip to Buffalo anyway, so figured I could just extend my visit. I bought a plane ticket, ordered a Mesa Grill cookbook and was all ready to come see Bobby.
This morning I made my parents get up and on the road by 7 a.m. ish to begin the two and a half hour drive to Syracuse. I wanted to make sure we got their early enough for a spot in line or a seat at the demonstration.
The prospect of meeting Bobby Flay had me in a tizzy all morning, little butterflies of excitement fluttering around all inside me. As I left my bedroom I looked at a bag of Fowler's chocolates I bought earlier this week. I thought "Maybe Bobby would like some chocolate shaped like Buffalo chicken wings" and brought a packet of them with me.
Our early arrival - three hours before his demo - paid off. As soon as we staked out a bench in the shade, Bobby made his first appearance on the stage to do an interview with some sort of radio or tv morning show. There were also already about 100 people there already waiting.
I was actually going to go easy on the stalking this trip, but after Bobby left the stage my mom suggested that my dad and I try to follow him. We did. When we lost him - I've read that Bobby runs marathons - mom suggested we go wander around the fair to try and find him. I think she just wanted to point us in the snack direction and have some peace to do her Sudoku.
We returned with some fried dough, french fries, dippin dots and a Dinosaur BBQ sandwich to wait out the rest of the time before the demo. The place filled up fast and was - not surprisingly - standing room only. I'd guess there were about 1,000 people.
We also watched his Throwdown assistant Stephanie spend about two hours on stage prepping the food for him and getting ready (with two of her own assistants). That was all pretty entertaining.
Then at 1 Bobby took the stage, strolled comfortably behind the stove and whipped up a meal made of NY state ingredients - polenta with wild mushrooms, sweet potato gratin and a pork tenderloin with apple chutney. It all looked so yummy. Bobby said the recipes will be on the fair web site, so when I find them I will post the link to them.
Our three hours of wait time gave my parents and I plenty of time to strategize the best way to get from our benches to the line for the cookbook signing. I bolted over as soon as the demo ended, but still ended up about 200 people back, putting me on shaky ground for whether I would actually make it in the one hour period.
But then Bobby showed up a little early, and even extended his signing period (after apparently scoring a police escort to catch a plane at the airport).
By the time we got close to the front of the line, my little gift of Buffalo wing-shaped chocolate had started melting. Then to make it worse, I accidentally dropped them, crushing them into an ambiguous looking pile of semi-melted chocolate in a plastic bag tied with pink curling ribbon.
"Does it look too bad to give him?" I asked my mom.
She looked at the bag and kind of held back a laugh.
"Well you can just tell him it didn't survive the line. He can put it in the freezer."
I thought about this, and then replied "I guess I've done stupider things."
For example, say things like stupider.
So that's exactly what I did. As we got to the front of the line I flipped my book open to the first page, handed it to the woman who would give it to Bobby, walked up to him and spent the 10 seconds it took him to scrawl his name rambling about the chocolate.
"Oh," he said. "OK. Thanks."
Despite the limited exchange, I'd say Bobby Flay seems like a nice guy, contrary to some other rumors out there. During his morning show interview and demo he seemed genuinely fun and somewhat modest. It must be tiring - and crappy to some extent - to spend your day getting ushered all around a state fair, have to do a cooking demo in the blazing sun and then have to sign 400 people's cookbooks.
I did manage to get a quick picture before being shooed away by fair security. I forgot to invite him to the National Chicken Wing Festival. There was no time to tell him how much I love his chicken cacciatore.
But that's ok. The goal was to get my cookbook signed and see the demo. Besides, that gives me a reason to go to one of his restaurants. Maybe he'll be there. I can bring him better chocolate.
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