Imagine the fun you could have, the chefs you could meet and the great food you could sample if you were a judge in a professional cooking competition.
Before you ask where to sign up, consider the back side of the story.
A few weeks ago, I helped to judge two contests back-to-back.
McCormick & Schmick's, partnering with Savor Pittsburgh, invited 500 people to a party to raise money for the Lupus Center of Excellence. More than 20 restaurants presented their best shot for appetizers, entrees and desserts. Twelve, ahem, experts and celebrities -- including big Burrito's Bill Fuller, WQED's Rick Sebak, Pittsburgh Magazine's Bruce May and Table Magazine's Christina French -- did the judging, totally missing the party that everyone else was having. We sampled 29 dishes in well under two hours.
We judges sat side-by-side facing the crowd. People plain stared at us as plates were set down, and no bite, lick or comment went unnoticed. We had to be aware of our table manners, use our knives and forks gracefully, dab daintily with our napkins, and, please, no talking with our mouths full, which was really hard, considering.
Each entry was to be graded 1 to 10 on appearance, creativity and flavor profile. You had to put your fork in, taste a bit of everything and swallow, no matter how gross or unappealing the dish, and try not to grimace or giggle in disbelief when a really weird pile showed up.
There are ethics involved. Should we be painfully honest or nice, giving the benefit of the doubt? Honesty wins, and Bill Fuller and I judged hard. Tuna tartare with blueberries and gingersnap croutons? Nah. Country-fried skate with succotash and sage gravy? Wowser! When a dish is really good, you'd love to have finished it, but no, it was whipped away and replaced.
We weren't supposed to know who made what, but some chefs have signature flavors and styles, and their plates are mini-snapshots of their restaurants.
By the 19th dish, some of us were hitting the wall, and we were still on appetizers. Bulimia was mentioned.
We drank water, got up, walked around, and went back to the job.
It's not that contests have too many dishes, it's that there are too many competing flavors. How about this sequence?
Watermelon, turmeric cauliflower and cilantro pesto; swordfish, lime creme fraiche and chipotle honey glaze; banana-crusted tilapia, mango vinaigrette and jalapeno salsa.
Still, there were standouts. The chevre cheesecake with honey walnut crust was so good I asked for the recipe. See it above.
Three days later, along with chef Toni Pais and two other experts, I judged 14 dishes over at the Pennsylvania Culinary Institute's annual student competition sponsored by Isaly's: The Great Chipped Ham Challenge.
I expected to see fluffy mountains of chipped, chopped ham (as we say in the 'Burgh) at work stations. Instead, huge Spam-like bricks of meat-like product could be sliced, diced, chopped, julienned or cut into slabs. We loved a deep-fried ham 'n' cheese finger appetizer and almost cleaned the plate of cheesy pasta with artichokes.
All the dishes showed creativity and a good effort from tomorrow's chefs. The top three finalists won $500, $250 and $100 scholarships.
Chef Pais, who grew up in Portugal, was incredulous but polite as some of us waxed nostalgic about Isaly's chipped ham sandwiches on soft white bread with Miracle Whip from our elementary school days.
All that aside, contests are indeed good fun. Any given dish from any given restaurant can be a winner. The sponsors benefit from the public relations.
And sales of elastic-waist pants, um, expand.

Pastry Chef Kelly James at Sonoma Grille, Downtown, entered this fabulous dessert in a food competition. She garnishes each serving with a few strips of candied orange peel and walnuts.
For the crust, thoroughly combine walnuts, ladyfingers, cracker crumbs, sugar, honey and butter in a mixing bowl. Butter a deep 9-inch springform pan and shape the crust into the pan. Bake the crust in a 325-degree oven for 13 minutes.
For the filling, mix the cream cheese and goat cheese in a standing mixer, using the paddle attachment, until softened and combined. Add the sugar and salt and continue mixing. Scrape the sides down well as you go. Add the sour cream, extracts, lemon juice and zest and continue mixing for 5 to 10 minutes, scraping well as you go. Slowly add the yolks and eggs and mix until combined.
Pour the mixture into the crust and bake as follows, reducing heat as the baking continues:
375 degrees -- 15 minutes
325 degrees -- 45 minutes
200 degrees -- 45 minutes
Cool to room temperature, then chill 4 hours or overnight. Garnish servings with candied orange peel and walnuts.
Makes about 12 servings.
-- Pastry Chef Kelly James of Sonoma Grille
