I arrived for the food tasting panel I was booked onto and then I was asked to join (or Headhunted as I prefer to think of it) another panel. I agreed and the woman running it said she would see to it that I got some more invites to other panels as a thank you. I have made it people. I am inside the inner circle.
I am now also referred to as an ‘experienced taster’ and I got to show the newbies what was what. I explained to them they shouldn’t scream in surprise when the hatches open and to not eat condiments like ketchup or mayonnaise without getting some chips first.
So, now I am an experienced taster, where is there left for me to go, I hear you ask? Surely I have reached the top? Oh no, no, no. I learnt today there are people known as ‘super tasters’ (and yes, in my mind I imagine them as nothing but a mouth with a cape) who are super good at spotting different flavours. It is all in our genetic make-up apparently.
I am resolved to become a ‘super-taster’ (I want that cape) and I am going to put my taste-buds through a Rocky style training montage. I will wake up each morning, put on ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and drink twelve eggs. After being sick, I will then throw all manner of taste at my buds. Will it be sweet? Or salty? Or umani? Does anyone really know what umani is?
One last thing. I joked to the woman running the course that I was gutted about missing out on the bakewell tarts in the other session. As I went to leave, she called me back and gave a me a tin foil wrapped plate. I opened it, and to my utter delight, she had given me a slice of bakewell tart. Things like this just make the world a better place.
Take care buddies,