Late September in Virginia brings many things - Indian summer, fading sunlight, fall festivals, and the ever iconic State Fair. I’ve long been curious about the baked goods entries. Who are the entrants? What do they bake, and how are they judged? Where do they come from? And most importantly, regarding the much coveted ribbons, who wins them? This is the year I decided to find out. The process so far has been pretty simple. Log onto the state fair website, download the entry form, pay the five dollar fee, and shazam, you’re official!
On Friday morning, during a 90 minute time frame, I can access the massive exhibition hall, and formally submit my humble entries - classic cheesecake, walnut brownies, and the ever in demand mixed chip cookies. I admit to feeling a little out of my league. First, I’ve never entered any sort of cooking contest before, and second, my idea of a baked goods submission in the state fair are those no doubt considered best in class, created by the tried and true home cooks, or in this case, bakers. I don’t have any kind of proven track record. I’m simply going in as a bona fide rookie. Why? Well, as sheepish as I am to admit it, I desperately want a ribbon! There. I said it. Any kind of ribbon will do, but no doubt the first place blue would look best in my kitchen. I have a low budget vision of decorating a small portion of wall above my coffee maker with various shapes and sizes of state fair ribbons.
I realize it might seem like an unsual mission, a kind of offbeat suburban fantasy, but the closer the fair gets, the more I find myself wanting to win. Not just compete, but flat out win. I seem to be turning into some kind of state fair nerd. I’m not sure how else to put it. And what I said before about any color ribbon isn’t really true. I would like, make that love, a lovely blue one, though will graciously accept any color at all. A second place red ribbon would really pop next to my fire engine red toaster. A third place white one will, well, match my cereal bowls. A true and beautiful first place blue ribbon would simply look best against my pale, buttermilk hued walls.
I acknowledge there are loftier goals in these busy and sometimes hectic times. Entering the fair, and awaiting the outcome, has thus far been a way of hitting a kind of reset button. Of slowing down a little, and breezily imagining long afternoons spent in farmhouse kitchens, calling out over the fields when supper’s ready. On that note, the peace of mind achieved from indulging that kind of pace has been prize enough. Not really, but sort of. Ribbon or no.
