NRA Show

The NRA (National Restaurant Association) convention is in town this weekend. If you are unfamiliar with this spectacle, it is the nation's largest trade show for foodservice operators, distributors and suppliers, with over 70,000 attendees and 2,000 booths. This is essentially one-stop shopping for anyone in the restaurant industry, as vendors hawk fresh fruit and toilet paper, and everything in between. There are also lots of educational seminars, celebrity chef demos (Rick Bayless, Stephanie Izard) and celebrity chef book signings (Art Smith, Daniel Boulud). And did I mention the free food (and alcohol) samples? It's a fun, fun time. As a kid, my dad used to take me to the Sysco food expo in Louisville every now and then, so I knew what to expect for the most part. The only difference this time was that I was wielding a press pass, conspicuously marked green.

Obtaining a press pass was surprisingly easy, as I simply said I was a writer for Chicago Foodies and that was sufficient. This resulted in an incredible amount of access, and doors opened up that I never would have thought to crack. The show is closed to industry professionals only, and registration for most attendees is $80. Obtaining a press pass, on the other hand, is free. Plus, you have access to cover exlusive events (like the Restaurant Executive Breakfast on social media marketing) that are closed to general attendees.

More importantly, people are interested in coming to you. In the days leading up to the convention, I was barraged with dozens of emails from publicists who wanted to set up appointments with me to demonstrate new products. Chatting with the CEO of Lucid Absinthe, anyone? Several people called me (I submitted my cell when I registered), sometimes repeatedly, leaving voicemail entreaties (and always commenting at what a great voicemail message I have). I was somewhat stricken with guilt, but decided it'd be more painful to return any of their calls.

At the show itself, the spotlight continued to shine. I realize I'm a complete neophyte in journalism, but I was blown away by the interest that was immediately paid by people who noticed my green badge. It is astounding how people's demeanors change when they realize that you're press, and that every interaction they have with you could be influential in a very public way. "So, are you going to write about us?" asked one sales rep hopefully. "Probably!" I hedged, with a smile. At some points, craving anonymity, I took my clipboard and put it in front of my badge to hide it as I walked down the aisles. Unfortunately, I was called out by Dave from the toy crane machine booth, who said, "Oh, you're taking notes? Oh, you're press??" We then bonded over the hideousness of an adjoining Dixie ad that featured a guy in a burger suit.

Next up, the Candy Expo is in town next week.