The first judging gig...and meeting Alan Rickman.

Once again I find myself in the Lounge bar in the bowels of The Excalibur Hotel indulging in a well earned G & T reflecting on the long day.

For some unaccountable reason my body just will not adjust to Vegas time. I intended to finish this but didn’t I went to bed instead to rest up before the main event of the day, The World Burger Extravaganza. So, once more I end up writing retrospectively whilst continuing with the Great Vegas Adventure.

I won’t bother updating my location as I write as it will change, taking, as it were, every opportunity to get my thoughts down when I can.

As I tend to do I turned up at the venue far too early. I had been awake since 5AM, even with a longer than usual breakfast and shower I was ready to hit the road at nine with nothing expected to happen at Bally’s until at least 10AM. I checked in at the judges/volunteers booth, which was as difficult to find as anything official had been for this event. I received my tee-shirt and an appointment at the judges tent for burgers at 10AM sharp. This meeting lasted approximately 5 minutes with the morning session judges to return just before eleven. I was not due to judge until 4PM. Killing six hours in Vegas is not a hard thing todo, but, I reminded myself that I was here for a purpose and as such would try my hardest to spend the time constructively and without blowing hundreds of dollars. Walking around the areas set out for the championship was interesting for a couple of hours, taking in the aromas and sounds and seeing the equipment required for top competition cooking was a real experience. The units for the barbecue teams are a complete kitchen as a trailer, including the smoker, grill, sink, water storage, gas storage and fridge. Some of these trailers must cost tens of thousands of dollars and there are no shortage of them either. There are several categories at the championships, I must confess I struggle to keep up with what is actually happening. Apart from the obvious BBQ, chilli and burger categories there are: sandwiches, side dishes, chefs challenge and recipes, I think. As I do not fully understand the competition cooking scene I will stick to what I have been allocated as a judge and comment on that. I will say, however, that I have not seen any sausages included in the competition and a time is now running short, I doubt that I will.

I wandered until I had had enough and, as has become normal this trip, felt knackered around 2PM. I decided to check out the ballroom ,which evidently had been booked by the organisers for the duration of the competition. It was completely empty. I set up my Mac and gadgets, made myself comfortable and attempted to doze. 

This was on the whole successful but I was interrupted twice. The first time some bloke drifted in looking for a friend, the second time a Northern British couple breezed in looking to pick up their tickets for the party at Ballys pool the following day. I gave them some advice, to basically nob off and leave me alone, then tried to snatch thirty-nine winks or so. Eventually the steady hum of the air-conditioning and the occasional sounds of staff moving around in the lobby outside ensured that not a wink was to be had. The rumbling in my trussocks worried me somewhat, predictably a brief series of the squirts began, less than an hour before I was due to judge I had teh ‘kin Trotts. Finally empty I found myself sitting on some stone steps facing the burger judging tent until it was time, thankfully my twosie situation was feeling, if not resolved, then better.

What can I say, the burgers were wheeled in, we tasted, rated and left. Fifteen minutes tops. I immediately leapt in a taxi and returned to the hotel. Thirty minutes later I was safely asleep in bed, after a quick G & T, hence the opening paragraph.

I was determined to collar Adam that evening and the low key reception gave me the ideal opportunity. We spoke about the popularity of sausages in the US and football, proper football. He is more knowledgable that I am about the game, asking my opinion on the Newcastle line up past and present. Looks like I chose the wrong season to lose my interest in the game. I had been joking all week about gettin ghis name wrong and asking him how he liked filming Harry Potter, really stupid thing to do as I nearly DID call him Alan at one point. 

The organisers had booked a couple of women in show-girl costumes for the look of the thing and I took the opportunity to chat and have a photo. I did take the piss a bit and I think it may have been lost on them, but they were nice enough and even collared me later for another chat and 'a hug', obviously endeared at my best Michael Palin impression. I hate myself to admit that following said 'hug' I checked my pockets to ensure all items were present and correct, I am such a prick at times.

The guy who operated my camera turned out to be a great guy. Andrew Chai from LA had won a competition on the website YELP and was, like me here on his own. We chatted about food and travel before having a couple of drinks and drifting off as the evening drew to a close.

I had the taste for a few G & Ts so trawled the bars in a mini pub crawl of the Excalibur. After an awkward conversation with a stereotypical redneck in Dick’s Last Resort I had one more then went to bed, after a burger of course. I do feel it necessary to mention that this guy had been in town for SEMA (or something, it was about cars though) he proudly showed me pictures on his iPhone of engine blocks and exhaust pipes, riveting.

Chilli judging loomed in the morning, as I fell into yet another fitful slumber visions of giant beans and armadillos dancing with Simon Cowell leapt into my head.