2008 Woodie Awards
Cooking, Kind of
WTH Con Iron Chef
Max George
Issue date: 2/16/08 Section: Features
My prior experience with Guilford's fabled yachting club is almost non-existent. I don't know anything about World of Warcraft, I have never been a Dungeon Master and if you asked me "nijas or pirates?" I would say dinosaurs.
But I have shown flashes of an inner yachter throughout my life. When I was little I was obsessed with Legos. I own every copy of the "Batman: Hush" comic book series and I have Jim Lee's autograph - name drop! I think Empire Strikes Back is the best Starwars film. In Super Smash Bros. Melee my character of choice is Jigglypuff (watch out for my deadly aim with the sleep). And that's about where my yachting club resume would end.
For my column this week I decided to try my hand at the Yachting Club's Annual What The Hell Con[?] Iron Chef tournament.* With no idea what to expect I showed-up apron in hand ready to give it my best shot.
Entering Duke Hall that Saturday afternoon was like stepping into another world. I guess the armor-clad warriors in the grass out front were fair warning. But nothing could have prepped me for my first encounter with WTHCon. There people in pirate and wizard attire (but alas, no dinosaurs). There were light-sabers. There was talk of other dimensions and superheroes and zombies. But enough about the wizard people, dear reader. There was a task at hand.
I had two opponents in the cook-off; a girl who was overtly insecure with her cooking knowledge and technique (I could only assume it was a bluff - good tactic, sister) and tall guy with an intimidating knowledge of the standard microwave. After an impressive introduction and emphatic display of the foods at our disposal (tons of ramen noodles, a box of easy-mac packets and a plethora of assorted sauces), our host revealed the secret ingredient, which was mandatory that we all incorporate into our meal: Broccoli. The tall guy smiled sinisterly. The nervous girl laughed nervously. I planned to myself. We had 30 minutes to create a dish that would be judged based on "arbitrary" criterion by a panel of four brave students.
But I have shown flashes of an inner yachter throughout my life. When I was little I was obsessed with Legos. I own every copy of the "Batman: Hush" comic book series and I have Jim Lee's autograph - name drop! I think Empire Strikes Back is the best Starwars film. In Super Smash Bros. Melee my character of choice is Jigglypuff (watch out for my deadly aim with the sleep). And that's about where my yachting club resume would end.
For my column this week I decided to try my hand at the Yachting Club's Annual What The Hell Con[?] Iron Chef tournament.* With no idea what to expect I showed-up apron in hand ready to give it my best shot.
Entering Duke Hall that Saturday afternoon was like stepping into another world. I guess the armor-clad warriors in the grass out front were fair warning. But nothing could have prepped me for my first encounter with WTHCon. There people in pirate and wizard attire (but alas, no dinosaurs). There were light-sabers. There was talk of other dimensions and superheroes and zombies. But enough about the wizard people, dear reader. There was a task at hand.
I had two opponents in the cook-off; a girl who was overtly insecure with her cooking knowledge and technique (I could only assume it was a bluff - good tactic, sister) and tall guy with an intimidating knowledge of the standard microwave. After an impressive introduction and emphatic display of the foods at our disposal (tons of ramen noodles, a box of easy-mac packets and a plethora of assorted sauces), our host revealed the secret ingredient, which was mandatory that we all incorporate into our meal: Broccoli. The tall guy smiled sinisterly. The nervous girl laughed nervously. I planned to myself. We had 30 minutes to create a dish that would be judged based on "arbitrary" criterion by a panel of four brave students.
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