After more than twenty years of cooking professionally, you might think a culinary competition would feel like another day at work. It does not. There is something very different about knowing a group of accomplished chefs is watching every move you make, and you have sixty minutes to prove you know what you’re doing.
In October 2026, I competed in the ACF Sunshine State Plate Challenge at the Florida Restaurant & Lodging Show in Orlando. I put together an ancho-espresso crusted pork loin with smoky sweet potato hash, glazed pearl onions, blistered shishitos, charred heirloom tomatoes, crisp country ham, and an ancho-chile pork jus.
Yes, that was a lot to get onto four plates in an hour. Apparently I enjoy making life difficult for myself.
I earned a bronze medal with a score of 78. I was proud to be there, proud of the dish, and grateful for the feedback. But was I hoping for a higher score? Absolutely. I’m competitive, and I didn’t go there just to enjoy the convention center lighting.
The judges had some incredible things to say about my flavors and knife skills. One told me my flavor combinations were among the best of the day. Hearing that from chefs I respect was a big moment for me. It told me that the ideas behind the dish were working.
Then came the lessons. I lost ten points because I didn’t retain my trim. I lost another four because I hadn’t warmed the plates, and my sauce cooled too quickly. Four points for cold plates. It’s amazing how a small detail can become the part of a competition you remember most clearly.
That’s the thing about cooking at this level. Good flavor isn’t enough by itself. Organization, discipline, temperature, and execution all matter. You can make something delicious and still leave points on the table—sometimes literally.
I walked away with encouragement, new connections, and a very clear list of what to improve. That’s a good result, even if it wasn’t the medal color I wanted. I’m still learning, still pushing, and still willing to put my work in front of people who will tell me where it needs to get better.
Next time, I’ll keep my trim, warm my plates, and bring the same creativity. And yes, I’m still chasing gold.