Stalking Alton, Part 2: Baltimore-bound

Well, I finally got to meet "Good Eats" host Alton Brown, and boy, did I make an impression on him! The man finds me…irresistible? No. Unsanitary.

Let me back up a bit.

After last night’s 1100-person debacle in Virginia, my friend and I decided to get there at 5, and were handed numbers along with the 20 other individuals lacking enough of a social life to show up that early for a book signing.

We were joined by five other friends and fellow fans. After we chatted, watched “West Wing” episodes via laptop and were stalked by members of an Alton Brown fan club (how comforting to know there are those taking the obsession to an even geekier level), 7:30 finally arrived. After mocking the B&N’s less-than-stellar sound system, Alton opened with a correction, warning us that his new book, “I’m Just Here For More Food,” has a mistake printed in it. He instructed us to open to a page and find the one ingredient that didn’t belong.

“Is it flour?” he asked. “Is it yeast? Or is it …aspirin?”

Yes, apparently someone in the printing process took some liberties and ended up substituting “aspirin” for the ingredient “children’s chewable Vitamin C tablet” (creates a better acidic environment for the yeast), a substitution AB found rather ironic.

“I myself am deathly allergic to aspirin,” he said. “So I now have a book that contains a recipe that would KILL me if I ate it.”

Fans at the Baltimore signing (employees said the crowd numbered "a couple hundred" but didn't have an exact figure) learned that Alton creates all his wacky inventions, such as a smoker locker, himself (“I like using my brain better than I like using just about anything"); that the show is NOT taped in his own home (it has been taped in two different houses, and now films on a soundstage replica of one of them); and that he occasionally consults Georgia Tech physicians when he has science questions.

(As a side note, those of us hardcore followers who’d attended both signings ALSO learned the man isn’t above repeating jokes, as the term “beanie weenies” was thrown around again, and the man seems fixated on Morimoto’s predilection for kelp.)

When asked if he will ever compete on Iron Chef America himself, he quickly went from bravado (“Those sissies are so scared of me!”) to humility (“I would get my clock cleaned”). We found out a few things we won’t ever see on “Good Eats” as well; he wishes he could do an episode on sweetbreads, but the show calls a sampling of regional stores for availability before an item can be included in a recipe. And cooking game on TV apparently is off limits.

“Nobody wants to kill Bambi,” he said. “I don’t want to kill Bambi either. I just want to smoke it.”

Finally it was our turn to meet Alton in person. I asked him about his favorite DC and MD restaurants (he claims he never has time to sample the local cuisine when he’s on tour), and proper technique when using a Santoku knife (it’s not a rocking motion, like a chef’s knife, for those who are curious). He was happy to answer my questions, but when I handed him my salt container for an autograph, he decided to sign inside its lid rather than on its base. And, well, apparently I could have done a little better job washing my salt container before bringing it to Alton.

“Not too into being sanitary, are we?” he said (or something along those lines; remember, I was a little starstruck). I responded (probably with something unintelligible), and Alton proceeded to mock me for a good few minutes for my less-than-anal ways. And then, he did the unthinkable. He licked the inside of the container’s lid. And TRIED TO ANALYZE what I’d eaten last.

“Hmm….pork chops, I think,” he said. The eerie thing? Pork chops WERE what I’d cooked the night before. I’m praying the man’s psychic (or a lucky guesser), and that I really DIDN’T have any sort of pork chop residue on my salt container. I’m already damaging my credibility as a food writer by telling you this story in the first place!

But hey. Alton Brown licked my salt container. Talk about a motivation for never washing it again!