Here’s what it’s like being a judge at the 38th annual Kitchen Kettle Village Rhubarb Baking Contest | Life & Culture

Appearance, taste and texture

The other nine judges each brought various skill sets and social cachet, with some other newbies and returning judges among them. The 2022 competition was the first since 2019, as COVID-19-related restrictions made it unfeasible in 2020 and 2021.

The competition serves as a benefit for Lancaster Farmland Trust, and members of the organization were on hand to slice and serve bite-size portions from the beautiful spread of desserts. Each plate featured two or three different desserts, with a corresponding number so that we could neatly give our scores on separate pieces of paper. Questions varied between desserts, but my fellow “Other Desserts” judges and I were tasked with judging the appearance, taste and texture of each selection.

This became a psychological conundrum by the second plate.

If “Other Dessert” simply meant “Not Cake or Pie,” then participants were encumbered only by the limits of their respective imaginations. For example, it was not outside the realm of possibility to be served a plate featuring: 1. A tiny piece of cobbler; 2. A bite-size brownie; and 3. What could charitably be called a (delicious-tasting) pile of pinkish goop. No matter the category, I quickly learned that the 38th annual Kitchen Kettle Village Rhubarb Baking Competition is absolutely not the place to bring weak stuff.

I tried to adhere to a strict routine for each dessert — take a bite, think about it, clean off my fork, take a swig of water and then move on to the next one. Whereas the “Cake” judges conferred among themselves, checking taste profiles and the like, my group largely remained insular except for the beginning and end of the competition. It was not so much that I didn’t want to talk to my fellow judges, it was more that the mounting rhubarb intake eventually started to cloud my brain and make it difficult to rationally convey my thoughts aloud.

Some desserts tasted as though the bakers felt constrained by the rhubarb, only to liven it up with cherry and strawberry flavors. In others, the rhubarb shined as the star, and it was difficult not to intrinsically pride these over fellow competitors. The rhubarb itself is such a humble vegetable that it deserves to play lead at least once a year, right?

The tasting portion required a generous hustle, as not only was the freshness of the desserts dissipating with each passing minute, but it was also 90 degrees outside and many of the desserts ultimately wouldn’t withstand that harsh, continuous beating from the sun.

Rhubarb royalty

Some 16 desserts later, our winning “Other Dessert” was a delectable rhubarb cheesecake bar, created by Carol Horst. Lancaster Farmland Trust Chairman Larry Shirk was tasked with tabulating ballots, and both competitors and readers alike should know that Shirk performed his job with a seriousness that I can only compare to a person counting ballots for a presidential election. I half-expected a pink plume of smoke to rise from the building to announce the winner.

The grand champion dessert ended up being obvious to myself and my fellow judges alike, an incredible strawberry rhubarb angel cake, created by Kitchen Kettle’s own Diann Stoltzfus, who has a variety of roles in everything from food services to administrative tasks.

As is customary at competition’s end, each dessert was sliced into pieces and sold to visitors at the rhubarb festival. According to Lisa Horn, Kitchen Kettle Village’s resident “Director of Fun,” every single piece of dessert sold out on Saturday, generating $1,084 alone for the Lancaster Farmland Trust.

For Kristy Aurand, Community Action Partnership chief development officer and a returning judge at the competition since 2016 — who hadn’t even eaten rhubarb before her first festival — it’s a day to look forward to every year.

“Well obviously, the tasty desserts are great,” Aurand says by phone the day after the competition. “I also think it’s really cool that all the proceeds go to the Farmland Trust. Obviously it’s a really cool nonprofit partnership. And I just love the sense of camaraderie; it’s just a really fun experience. I think we take it all really seriously, which is funny because it’s a dessert competition at the end of the day. It’s just great meeting the other judges and having a fun morning and feeling that sense of community throughout the whole event.”

After eating 20 pieces of dessert at 10 in the morning, I stepped out, blinking, into the oppressive heat. A man on stilts holding a pink pool noodle fashioned into a piece of rhubarb ambled past me, perfectly complementing my complete and utter food daze. I wouldn’t eat again until dinner that night, and even then, it was a half-hearted meal.

Being trusted with the honor of selecting the best rhubarb dessert among a sea of them was a privilege that I won’t soon forget. If I am so lucky as to be called upon again to serve this task, it will be a true honor.

That being said, please do not bring rhubarb anywhere close to me for another few months, just in case.