Me on a plate

Me on a plate. Those four words have haunted me ever since I hit send back in July when I pre-registered for MasterChef audition. How does one even begin to decide how to plate and present yourself on a plate? Me being me giggled for a moment to myself wondering what sarcastic or bitch would taste like. I imagine something spicy and slightly bitter. And if that were the case I’d plate a kick ass Bloody Mary but this is MasterChef not Master Bartender, which would be an awesome show Fox should get on it. Who am I food wise? Well I cook for family and friends and their opinions means the most to me. When I prepare a dish for them I consider things they like and what would bring them joy and comfort. So I knew my dish would have to be a comfort food. Something warm and hearty like a big hug on a cold day. I am a pretty good hugger though I am reserved with them so my dish needed to reflect that, so onions. Yes onions. I love onions but some people are scared of them. If handled correctly these lovely layered beauties can be sweet and savory, if handled incorrectly they can have a bite that you will regret just like me. Onions with the right herbs can be healing magic and nothing some healing magic like some bay and fresh thyme. If I am anything I am a girl who knows her herbs and spices just like with onions, herbs and spices can make and break a dish just like too much perfume on a woman. And no one likes that. Beer. I love beer. I love to drink it, cook with it and bake with it so it had to be a part of my dish. I went with a nice hearty stout because I am a Midwestern gal and I had to represent my bovine corn fed side a little. That same Midwestern gal decided chicken thighs were the best protein to soak in all this tasty goodness. Sweet and tender willing to take on the flavor, yes I can be sweet and tender I have layers like those onions! So beer braised chicken and onions is what I decided best represented me at this point in my life. It isn’t the prettiest of dishes but I am not the pretest of girls but I hold my own I figured the dish would do the same. I chose to pair with dumpling noodles and sweet glazed baby carrots. I went out and bought a beautiful new plate because every gal needs a new outfit before a big event right? I bought all my ingredients and made sure I was prepared to put me on a plate. I woke at five in the morning and made the dumpling noodles. I started my chicken, then the onions an hour later then I should have. I ruined the first batch of noodles, nearly burnt the carrots and ran out of salt. Cooking in a hotel kitchen gives you a whole new level stress on a day that could change life and my stress level told me the only thing I would be showing them on that plate was a big old hot mess. I finally got my crap together and we headed to the hotel. Once I got there it was too late to second guess anything. I listened to what others were making, to me it didn’t sound as if they were putting themselves on a plate, they were putting what they thought would get them through and they probably would but I still felt good about my dish because it was me and I know me. We were broken up in groups. I was number twelve and in the second group. I stood talking and laughing with a few people in line and we guessed that out of all the people that would go through this process that day, about three hundred maybe five people would be chosen to go to LA. If that isn’t a reality bitch slap for you then I am not sure what is. Our group went it about eleven. We got the directions we needed from the casting directors and were told we had three minutes. Three minutes to put yourself on a plate. The shortest three minutes I have ever known in my life. There I was dishing noodles, picking the perfect chicken thigh, arranging my carrots and time was called. My heart was racing, but I was smiling because the room filled with the scent of my savory chicken and everyone was looking my way. I was fourth for the taste tester to visit. I watched carefully as she went to each of the others and asked them about the foods they liked to cook. When she got to me I was ready. I answered her questions she tasted my food and moved on to the next person in line. The casting director followed her and asked all about me, I couldn’t tell you what I told her I was so nervous and then she was gone. They said once we were done we could pack up or we could taste each other dishes. I wanted to see what others had made, I was impressed but they were equally impressed with mine. When everyone was completed we all packed up while the crew got together to discuss how the twenty five of us did. The main casting director came up with a stack of our forms and thanked us for our dishes and showing them who we were. She asked that eight people stay behind they had more questions for them. I wasn’t in those eight. When I wasn’t chosen to be one to move on to the second interviews I was heartbroken. All those dreams you have when you see yourself doing the one thing you really wanted to do all fade and I felt as if I have nothing to look forward to now. I had to tell myself a few times I am only disappointed not defeated. This year I survived going blind in one eye and losing my job, this was nothing in comparison. There will be another chance to do this and maybe the me on the plate will be the person they really want.