My 40th Year on Earth: That's a bit of alright*

When I sat down at the start of the year to decide on what I wanted to accomplish during my 40th year on Earth, I didn't originally plan to enter a baking contest. This idea came up after a discussion with my friend, Anita, and some quick research to see what my options would be to compete. It's a great idea; I've been baking since I was 10 years old, supervised by both of my parents at first, and love baking things. In my late 20s, I started branching out from classics to making marshmallows and an Italian orange cake that takes three days to make. I like complex recipes as much as simple ones, and I love finding recipes with a history. I've written 23 posts about baking, including short stories, recipe shares, and observational posts.

Baking is therapeutic and delicious. I've said it before, there's something so soothing about watching ingredients come together. It's a little bit of magic in the kitchen (but also lots of science). If you bake, you know what I mean. To me, it doesn't matter if you make something from a box mix or from scratch, baking is baking. I know there are people out there who will disagree, but I'm not interested in their opinions. I started with box mixes, and eventually graduated to from scratch recipes. My family has a lot of family recipes, and both of my parents helped me be the baker I am today. Many recipes evoke memories from my childhood or remind me of the person who originally made them. Since I started baking for friends and co-workers, I often associate recipes with them too. I've also used baking as therapy, immersing myself in the process to work through a rough day or a problem. It's calming for me. The fact that I can then give what I make to others and brighten their day makes it even more powerful.

People have always told me I'm a great baker, that I should open a bakery. This is flattering, but also intimidating. Could I really do that for real one day? Are they just being nice? Has the sugar gone to their heads? To test this theory, I signed up for two categories in the Arlington County Fair competitive events. Arlington County allows residents from two cities to participate since we don't have our own fair (thanks, Arlington). I entered a bar cookie and a holiday cookie. I made test batches like I was practicing for the GBBO, and I took a few days off of work for the event. I downloaded my entry forms and read all the rules. And then I baked some more. I was ready to enter my bars and cookies.

The Arlington County Fair started in 1977 and is the largest free county fair in Virginia and one of the largest free events on the East Coast. In the last few years, over 80,000 people have visited the fair each year. Events include rides, concerts, food, pig racing (although not in 2019), and the competitive events. The competitive events include seven departments and four divisions. The departments include the baking categories as well as honey/beewax and food preservation, various arts and crafts, and multiple categories for fruits, nuts, plants, and vegetables. The divisions are separated into adults, teens, youths, and children (6 and under). I had no idea what to expect at the events; my experience with county fairs is limited to Celebrate Fairfax (nee the Fairfax County Fair) and the movie Butter, which stars Jennifer Garner as a butter carver (worth a watch if you can find it). What would the world of competitive county fair events be like?

The answer is: I have no idea. I arrived on Thursday morning (via Uber because there is no parking at the fair) to enter my baked goods, and I was one of maybe five people in line. All but me and one other guy were kids. I got my entry number, had help attaching the judging form and my recipe cards to the paper plates, and then my entries were whisked away by volunteers to be placed for judging. And that was it. I took my claim tickets and baking sheet and went on my way. There wasn't anywhere to hang out and watch other entries come in, and no one was allowed behind the tables until after judging. As I waited for my Uber home, I saw a few other people go in with entries. One was a lady entering tomatoes and the other was a guy bringing in some plants. I didn't get to talk to either of them, so I don't if this was their first year entering or if there's some secret world of Arlington County Fair Competitive Events competitors. In my mind, there's a very competitive group who enter every year, including a lady named Myrna who enters her amazing chocolate chip cookies and wins every year. There's Doris, a gardening genius, and Inez, the eccentric beeswax lady. I want them to adopt me and teach me the county fair competitive events secrets.

This is what I thought about as I waited to find out the results. I made up an entire world of competitive events contestants and fair intrigue and probably some "small town" drama (gossiping, sassy discussions about entries, a lot of "bless her heart"). I blame Christopher Guest and every novelist who's ever written a book about a small town with a fair or contest. Arlington isn't Mayberry or some other fictional small town, but you know what I mean. I imagined Best in Show, but for bakers and gardeners.

I entered two recipes: PB&J bars (bar cookie section) and Hot Chocolate Cookies (holiday cookies). These are two of my favorite recipes. They include ingredients I love: peanut butter, chocolate, and marshmallow fluff. I made my own fluff, and the batch I made for the fair was probably the best batch of fluff I've ever made. It was amazing, if I do say so myself. All entries have to be submitted on a paper plate.

Through a scheduling mistake on my part, I didn't get to go to the awards ceremony on Saturday night (I bought concert tickets not realizing the awards ceremony was going to be on Saturday night). I visited the fair Sunday afternoon instead. After wandering around the games and rides area and enjoying some ice cream, I made my way (along with Anita and her mom) to the indoor exhibits to check on my entries.

The results? Two class awards for second and third premium! The Hot Chocolate Cookies received the second premium, which doesn't surprise me at all. They were delicious. The judges liked the presentation of these cookies too. They are pretty adorable. The PB&J bars received third premium; I received a comment that the PB&J bars were a little dry. I sort of expected the feedback. The bars are dense, and the amount of jelly impacts how dry the cookie part will be. I used more jelly than I normally do, but it still wasn't enough. I was hoping that because I made them the night before it would be okay. Oh well, they still tasted good enough to receive a ribbon and that's a bit of alright if you ask me.

I'm pleased with my first attempt at competitive baking. I had fun participating and going through the process of what to make. I'm already thinking about what to enter next year; maybe a cake, maybe a different bar cookie, maybe another holiday cookie. The possibilities are endless. I have a whole year to plan. My experience has also inspired a new short story idea, which I'm working on now. I hope to share it in the next few weeks here on the Island.

If anyone is interested in being a baked goods taster, please let me know. I'll need plenty of volunteers!

*From an episode of GBBO. Mary Berry said it to a contestant.

So tell me how you feel about Steve Guttenberg?

Back before I moved to Arlington, I used to tell people that I wasn't cool enough to live here. I was specifically referring to Clarendon, a cool kid neighborhood where my company's office just happens to be located. My friend Emily described the neighborhood this way, "This neighborhood could only get hipper if they put a bird on it." If you have no idea what this means, hopefully this video will help you:

When Emily posted this gem, I was at the airport in Orange County waiting for my flight back to San Francisco. I starting laughing loudly and the two people sitting near me seemed a little startled. The man asked me what was so funny and I had to explain it to him. His response was that he was from Portland. And then he returned to his book.

One of my many accomplishments this week was that I finally got cable and internet (and a landline phone-what?) installed. I have tv again! After a delightful evening out exploring Arlington (thank you Allison and Thayer), I was flipping through channels and stumbled upon the 1987 "classic" Three Men and a Baby. I can't remember the last time I watched this movie. Here are some highlights:

• Leonard Nimoy (yes, Spock) directed this movie. Please take a moment to consider how funny this is. He did not direct the sequel but he did direct and an episode of TJ Hooker.
• There was a time in our collective past when Steve Guttenberg was a very popular, well-paid actor. He was also very popular with the ladies (apparently). This seems like something we should all discuss at some point because if this can happen, imagine the possibilities for us all. (And for the record, I love Steve Guttenberg, particularly in The Boyfriend School.)
• If I understood the opening sequence correctly, Tom Selleck, Steve Guttenberg, and Ted Danson are the epitome of hip, sophisticated, urban cool. They're men about town (literally depicted in the mural Steve's character paints in the entry way to their home) and possibly were the 1987 version of hipsters (if there could be such a thing).

I've discussed my love/hate/love/hate relationship with all things hipster in the past. Alameda was definitely a hipster haven and benefitted greatly from the need for trendy coffee shops, local art stores, and cool kid bars. I admit that I have hipster tendencies; I love Wes Anderson (considered by many to be the original hipster), The Decemberists, owls, hedgehogs, and polka dots. But that's where the similarities end. I'm too old to be a hipster although I'm exactly the age one should be to love irony, PBR, and discussing Neil Diamond music. The problem is that irony makes me tired, PBR is terrible, and I actually like Neil Diamond.

I have a very wise friend named Matt who enjoys making comments about my coolness."Just tell them that you actually liked stuff before actually liking stuff was cool." This is one of my favorite things Matt has ever told me. In this one sentence, Matt figured out my entire life and has given me my new gauge for how to make friends. Now I'll have to ask new people I meet if they like irony and if they've always liked something. I imagine the conversation will go something like this:

(Erin meets New Friend in the cereal aisle of Trader Joe's.)

Me: Hi New Friend.
New Friend: Hi Erin.
Me: Random question, if you had to pick a KISS solo album to listen to on a Saturday night, would you pick Peter Criss or Ace Frehley?
New Friend: Neither-we all know that the KISS solo albums were just an exercise in ego. If I'm going to listen to KISS, I'm going to listen to Destroyer or Creatures of the Night.
Me: Good to know. Another question, at sporting events when people sing those annoying add on lines during "Sweet Caroline" do you sing along?
New Friend: No, Neil Diamond wouldn't approve.
Me: Have you always liked Neil Diamond?
New Friend: Yep. What's not to like? I mean, "Cherry, Cherry" is classic 60s pop music.
Me: How do you feel about irony?
New Friend: Well, irony is not really something that I feel any one way towards. As a literary device, it's useful and interesting. As a lifestyle choice, well, people could do better things with their time. I always thought that there should be a punctuation for irony. (Side note: this is an actual thing. People have proposed a special punctuation for irony. For real.)
Me: I couldn't agree more, New Friend. Well, I've gotta get back to work. Nice seeing you. Are you up for trivia on Wednesday night?
New Friend: Sure, but we still need our sports person and we're not ending the night at Spider Kelly's.

Scene.