If you've ever wondered what Eleanor does for a living these days,...

[captainsblog]

there's a reasonable facsimile of it that ran in yesterday's paper as the Buffalo News food critic worked at Wegmans for a day- at one of their stores way on the other side of town- and reported on it. Eleanor's gig is more tied to the store's general merchandise department, focusing on the gizmos and gadgets galore that help make these dishes, but she does a lot of her own preparing, cooking and serving, as well. Plus she had the good sense to wear sneakers from day one.

Anyway,....



 - “Would you like to try the crab cakes?” I ask. I am standing in the aisle at Wegmans McKinley Parkway store, cooking and giving out samples of this delicacy. It’s a Friday during Lent and I’m having fun.

I think I’m having fun, that is. I’ve long been impressed by the number of supermarket food demonstrators who cook and pass out samples; I always patronize them.

Actually, I’ve always wanted to be one. Now here I am. And I’ve learned something right away: This job is a lot harder than it looks.

Certainly I am appropriately costumed. More or less incognito, I’m attired in a golden long-sleeve Wegmans shirt (100 percent organic cotton, of course), a white baseball cap, a big black apron and a cute little name tag. ("Janice.")

I have on plastic gloves, too. (More on those gloves later.) I should also mention that my similarly outfitted cooking coach, Georgia Brooks, is by my side, trying not to look concerned.

There is a lot to be concerned with here. Food safety is paramount, so I must check the final temperature of the crab cakes, which I cook in the convection oven behind me. It takes, I find out, about 14 minutes. But I am using a digital thermometer to be sure and it must read at least 145 degrees.

Then I portion out the crab cakes on demand, using a clean plastic fork that is left in the little paper tray for customers to eat with. I drizzle on a little Wegmans Bearnaise Finishing Butter or Remoulade Sauce, handing the whole thing over with what I hope is a captivating smile.

Of course, while I’m doing this I have to keep track of the inventory, make sure that the customer is not a child sans parent, and, in case someone should ask about allergies, I have to impart the information that no, this particular sample is not gluten free. (There are a few bread crumbs, I’m told, but in my opinion not many. The crab cake, put together in the store’s seafood department, is almost pure crab.)

I’m also worrying that a customer will hand me back a used tray and fork after eating. Hopefully everyone will use the trash can nearby instead. Because if someone does happen to give me the empty, I must accept it with that same sincere smile and then ... oh horrors! ... I will have to change my gloves.

Oh the gloves; the gloves. Limp things, curled in a fetal position in their little dispenser. I must take a new pair if I should touch something foreign like the outside of the oven, but they do tend to stick.

Try as I may, I cannot keep my middle finger and my fourth finger from mashing together into one finger slot. So much for touch typing and 12 years of piano lessons.

In fact, I never saw my little finger the whole afternoon. And all the Wegmans employees who keep drifting by are trying not to laugh.

The customers, on the other hand, are terrific. They make everything worthwhile because they are so enthusiastic.

“I love anything I don’t have to cook,” one tells me. Indeed.

Have I mentioned I’m not only supposed to be having a good time, I probably should be moving some product here? So I work out a little spiel, which changes from encounter to encounter.

I sometimes mentioned that these are the chain’s signature crab cakes, made from scratch in the seafood department right next to me. The recipe comes from a chef in a Wegmans Maryland store, so we are dealing with the real thing.

I tell the patrons how to cook the crab cakes, and that they make a great entree or appetizer. I even suggest some accompaniments.

The goal for food demonstrators is for people go pick up the products and take them home, although the crab cakes are luxury items at $8.99 apiece.

I still sell a few, but Georgia is doing much better. She knows a lot of the customers and addresses them by name. In fact, she actually sells six cakes at one time to a women who is having a dinner party.

And — I cannot tell a lie — I am wildly jealous of this sale.

The store manager for perishables, Michael Sigurdson, tells me I did a good job, but I’m not sure he’d hire me. Wegmans uses its own demonstrators, Sigurdson says.

McKinley keeps five or six people on staff to demo and sample on an hourly basis, mostly on weekends. There might be as many as four or five people in various areas in one day, all sampling a different product that Wegmans selects, often, like the crab cakes, for seasonal reasons.

The demos are part of a “knowledge-based service program,” so they undergo rigorous training in subjects like food safety and allergens.

Other supermarkets, including Tops, use a company called Suray Productions to supply demonstrators, and the vendors involved pay most of the freight. These demonstrators, too, must undergo training.

Not everyone can do the job. Demonstrators must be good communicators, outgoing, engaging and, as Sigurdson puts it, “have a pretty decent memory to remember names and faces.”

They also, I am here to tell you, must have sturdy legs and feet. Donna Fiddler of Suray recommends tie shoes with rubber soles for good support.

Next time.

How effective are the demos? No one divulges figures, but it is telling that many if not most supermarkets in the country make use of them at least from time to time.

Getting a customer to try the product in the first place seems to be the main thing.

“Consumers don’t want to purchase a product and not know if their families will like it,” Fiddler says. Sometimes coupons accompany the demos, as well.

Will sampling continue to be popular? Probably, say most marketing experts. In today’s economy it may even expand.

“It may be a new and different opportunity,” says Ken Mackenzie of the National Retail Marketing Services, an educational organization based in Wisconsin.

“People are still eating,” he says. “They may be cutting back on restaurant visits but cooking more at home.”

Comments

[headbanger118.livejournal.com]

I totally got how involved Eleanor's job was from her post! I'm not anywhere near that coordinated!