Convention confusion
Ah. The roll into late February and from there, aside from the occasional March blizzard, spring. And food industry conference and show season. Then there’s a break in the summer and then it all starts up again in the fall.
How does one approach conference season? For me it’s always a feeling of anticipation mixed with dread. The anticipation because there’s usually something interesting to be found, heard or sampled at these shows. The dread because there’s one show after the other after the other.
That dread part might be because I’m a bit of a recluse. Oh, and somebody once accused me of being a misanthrope. But she still lives with me, so her opinion can’t be true, can it?
So, again, how does one “in the industry,” as it were, approach the conference season? And I’m speaking as an attendee, not an exhibitor—choosing which shows to exhibit, and the expense of a booth and transporting material for said booth is another headache entirely.
As a lucky member of the media, my “choice” in these shows is simple—I go to most of them, whether I really want to or not. If I get one story idea out of it, and my stubbly face and lengthy surname and Foodservice News gets a wee-bit more recognizable to industry folks, I benefit. I know this. If I can finagle press passes, I’ll usually go.
During the last week in February, I had the pleasure—and really, in retrospect, it was a pleasure—of attending three different industry shows, each memorable in its own way. The first was the UP Show. It was my third. Now the UP Show, as you, dear reader, probably know, is organized by Hospitality Minnesota. Exhibitors run the gamut from suppliers to reps, equipment to food and beverage. Attendees range from restaurateurs and chefs to culinary students. While attendance and number of booths has dipped in recent years, this year the show seemed to have more energy, attendance was decent, and many exhibitors expressed they were getting some good leads out of the deal. That’s the whole point. And for industry types, it’s always nice to see familiar faces—makes the time spent go a little quicker when you can have a bit of fun.
The following Saturday took me to the Food & Wine Experience—obviously geared toward the consumer. A whole lot of ‘em.
The day’s tickets were sold out, and it was absolutely jammed with attendees. For me, waiting in a crowd five people deep for a splash of wine that, for the most part, wasn’t memorable, didn’t quite do it. And oh, how some of the attendees dolled up. How do people stand on a convention floor for hours on end in mega heels? And I’m not just talking the women, here.
Did I get anything out of it? Sure. I saw a few familiar faces, shook some hands, had some good conversations. But for what the show was actually about—food and wine—well, I guess I’d take the price of admission and buy a few bottles of wine I’ve never sampled, some cheese and watch the Food Network. That’s much easier on my creaky knees.
Baking away
On that opposite end of the “food show” spectrum was the 86th Annual Upper Midwest Bakery Show at the Rochester Convention Center. I drove down there the day after the F&W Experience.
There were maybe 50 booths. The number of attendees was also small, but very serious about their craft. Evidence of that seriousness was obvious in the various baking competitions.
Baking products and equipment were exhibited, including a record-breaking gingerbread man, measuring approximately 15-feet tall, six-feet wide, and more than 400 pounds.
One booth that stood out was home to The Knock Shoppe, a company that builds illuminated cake display systems for weddings. Company founder and owner Joanne Knoch described her product as “adding romance” to a wedding by creating a display. Crystal plates with lighting underneath are arranged in tiers, and the cake is placed on the plate. When sections of cake are removed for serving, flowers and lights can take its place for a cleaner appearance, “instead of having the black hole with all the crumbs,” she said.
The more elaborate cake stands include fountains running underneath. The show was her first; but she’s advertising in magazines like Modern Bride.
“The bakers are fine, but you’ve got to interest the bride, first,” she said.
Yes, choosing which shows to attend and/or exhibit at is tricky—there are so many these days, and many worth your while. In a previous life as a golf course assistant superintendent, my choice of shows and conferences was much more limited, and, therefore, simpler. I was going to learn about irrigation and drainage, or to price out equipment and speak to reps about who might put together the best package for my budget. But the food industry choices seem limitless. There are suppliers’ shows, like Sysco, and Appert’s (apologies to our advertisers for not listing each of you here) to tack onto the UP Shows, Food & Wine and Bakery Shows you feel tugging at you. Not to mention conferences like the upcoming American Culinary Federation Central Regional, which I’ll be attending.
And when too many things are tugging at you, strange things might happen. A golf course friend of mine went out to Las Vegas for a superintendent’s national conference. A bit of description here: he wears, to this day, the same get-up he has since the late ’70s outside work: tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, a fringed leather jacket, his hair styled like Huey Lewis and a mustache on his face like a hair-club for men commercial. He was walking down the concourse in one of the massive hotels where the superintendent’s convention was held and came upon an adult-movie convention. Guess where he went. “Yeah, the guys at the door musta thought I was in the industry for some reason,” he said, when several people asked why he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “They just let me walk right in. Pretty interesting.”
Yes, there’s always something you can learn from a convention.