Add Zoom to Taste
By Ameeta Agnihotri
Mid May, 2020
For the first time in my life as a food critic, I was posed with an extra challenge during these already challenging times.
Would I judge an online recipe contest?
I deliberated. Sat on the fence for a couple of days. Doubts cascaded without waiting for the first one to take birth. How could I judge the taste, texture and quality of food by just reading a recipe and seeing attached pictures? Of course, I said yes.
There were seven other judges, and scores would be totalled. All I had to do was use my best judgement, of which there was no shortage, thanks to the recipes I’ve written and the books I have read. As was typical, I became 100% involved.
Late into the night, long after dinner was done and the world slept, I would sit at my laptop scoring recipe after recipe, reading every word, following the methods in my head to see if they made sense. I got the hang of it after the first few, and would’ve scored perhaps a hundred recipes from across the country.
During the judging process, a city-based PR agency called me. Their client — a meat delivery brand — wanted to send me a hamper of fresh meat that I could cook and post on social media.
My prompt response was, ‘No. We don’t eat non-veg at home. But wait. I’m judging a contest, so maybe you can give hampers to the winners? Let me talk to the organisers and get back to you, and you can talk to the sponsors and let me know.’
Sponsors agreed. Contest organisers did not. Because:
1. This was a national contest. Winners could be from anywhere in India, and
2. They had enough sponsors whose brands were being promoted on social media.
So, the PR agency and I decided we would have a contest of our own for the Home Chefs of Chennai. An idea was born. The contest just got a name and a hashtag — both in my head. Nothing else happened. Till…
Mid-June 2020
Home Chefs of Chennai kept knocking at the doors of my brain. I let it ferment for a bit. The meat sponsor was keen to begin. And we had interest from other sponsors, too.
I informed Mr. Rocky Mohan about my contest idea, and in less than a minute, my contest became Gourmet Passport’s Home Chefs of Chennai. Two more judges — The Mad Chef and Chef Payal of the Gourmet Gig — were invited. We kept the rules simple. Every contestant had to post their videos on social media, tag all of us, and email the recipe with pictures to a common email id. And, before I knew it, the contest had officially begun.
Day 1: I waited all day with the inbox and Instagram open. Nothing happened. Brain went into overdrive. Should I call off the contest? Had I been overambitious with the idea?
All I could do was pray and check email. I’d read somewhere that if you smile for a minute you feel happier. I tried. Hardly tasting the food I’d cooked, I ate with my eyes glued to my mobile.
‘That’s it,’ I said to my husband. ‘This contest is a flop.’
‘How?’ he asked. ‘You’ve announced it only today. People need to plan, cook their meals, write the recipe and send it to you. Have patience. Yours is a very different kind of contest.’
Day 2: Entries began trickling in. The first was called Garlic Butter Knots. I was overjoyed. I could kiss Dr. Mrinalini! When Day 2 ended, I had five entries!
Day 3: Many contestants emailed saying Chennai’s lockdown made the ingredients they needed difficult to get or they were simply unavailable. We had to extend the deadline by another 10 days. Friends in the trade told me extending the deadline was not a good sign.
‘These are unreal times,’ I said to them, while self-doubt tore my confidence to shreds. My brain felt something like the insides of a fresh Italian Burrata cheese.
A few days later, entries began coming in large numbers. We had enough videos and recipes to confuse us judges. From the top 10, we choose five equal winners, their names announced over an exciting, engrossing Instagram Live from the Gourmet Passport page.
After the event, I called everyone personally to congratulate and connect with them because it felt unreal, this virtual contest for food, this meeting of minds and taste without the physicality of human energies. Emotions coursed through my veins as I heard their voices. Sensed their joy. Heard their stories. One of them said to me his daughter was screaming with joy when I announced his name. Another told me cooking was her release from the emotional trauma she had gone through a couple of years ago. One contestant had never shot a video before, but hey, she now had a new skill. Another said she felt like a celebrity to get so many prizes, and could dress up for the photos that I’d requested. Although I didn’t meet them personally, I spent hours on the phone with them. This contest, these people, made my lockdown bearable. It became what I call my emotional therapy. I’m still in touch with ‘my winners’ as I like to call them. And someday, soon, I hope to meet every one of them and taste their winning recipes.
Ameeta Agnihotri is a food critic and author based in Chennai.
