NY Grillin'

On the way to the Pam Grilling Contest I was especially careful to park near lucky #7 in the airport parking lot. I believe in the luck of numbers and this weekend, with $10,000 on the line there would be no chances taken. After flying into Laguardia (airplane flight number 6-free, another good sign), I was greeted by a driver carrying a cardboard board with my name on it. From there it was a drop off at a hotel next to the World Trade Center subway stop, and a view from my room down to ground zero. Uplifting.

The day of the competition, my 19 fellow contenders and I gathered in the hotel lobby as a collective vision in yellow Pam t-shirts. It never ceases to surprise me how friendly contesting minded folks are. The majority of them seemed to be from the warmer states, specifically Texas and Florida. Of course there were also a couple mid-west state-fair winners and an amazingly fit woman from Boston who grills outdoors 6 nights a week. They all seemed to know what they were doing in a major way, and I found myself turning shy. Hazards of intimidation.

After a pep talk from the PR people, we marched in mass down to the cook-off site. On the back of my shirt I had used a sharpie to write: PAMazon Griller serving PAMtastic PAMbrosia, and as we walked I heard a man behind me ask his wife what “pambrosia” was. Food of the Gods, baby. Food of the Gods.

First sign that we’d reached our destination was a 2-story high inflatable PAM bottle. There were also balloon archways, little-league style bleachers and 10 gas grills filling a stage.

The starting recipe (undisclosed until the first group climbed on stage) was sesame shrimp salad. When it was my turn to light my grill, I was faced with one of those horrible gas igniter sticks, the type that requires flipping a switch, pressing a button and hoping the flame pops out. What’s wrong with good old fashioned matches anyway? An assistant ran over to help me and then the clock started ticking down 30 minutes.

Obediently I skewered shrimp and grilled radishes just like the recipe required, although cooking away crisp radishy goodness seems like a waste of vegetable. After that it was dress and plate and I admit, my salad didn’t look so hot. It is impossible to make 4 cups of salad look good flattened out on a 12-inch round pizza tray. Unfortunately piling a perky mound of greens into a sad and lonely island admidst a sea of dull grey metal isn't so smart either.

And yet inside the salad, I knew those shrimps were grilled to perfection. I’d toasted the sesame seeds, sprinkled them over the top, and gone light on the dressing—a must when serving baby greens. For garnish I arranged a lemon sunburst and carved a radish tulip. My no-frills mother would have been appalled.

The judges quietly took notes on their clipboards. The majority of them were food editors from various magazines including Southern Living and Martha Stewart Living. When they announced that I won the women’s round, Rooster started whooping and promptly called my entire family. I adore that man.

Second round was skirt steak with charred tomato salsa, grilled baby potatoes and a dessert of grilled peaches served over angel cake. On the grill, I gave the peach slices some double skewer action so they wouldn’t flop around, but when it came to plating, the thick slices reminded me of my days working in my college cafeteria. As a quick fix, I diced them up and tossed them with raspberries and chopped mint to make a salsa.

The skirt steak however, that freaked me out. I’ve never grilled skirt steak in my life and since I have a history of undercooking everything, it came as no surprise when, 3 minutes left to go on the clock I cut against the grain and ruby red wobbled up at me. Back on the grill went the steak.

Meanwhile, my male competitor was done and had lifted his spatula in triumph. 45 seconds to go and I sliced the twice-cooked skirt, alternated it on the plate with grilled yellow tomato slices, topped it with charred red tomato salsa, repositioned the mint on the peaches and listened to that electric buzzer sound.
And what did Rooster have to say about all this? “See, you can too make dinner in less than 30 minutes.”

Chicken holding Pam trophy...the winner!