The countdown is officially on.

The Great Griddle Off is coming up, and this year I'm approaching it a little differently. I'm not just showing up with a Blackstone, some ingredients, and a few ideas. I'm coming prepared.

Because this year, I'm bringing home that Golden Spatula.

The categories are Childhood Favorites, Movie Inspired, and Guilty Pleasure. Three completely different challenges — and three opportunities to put my spin on some seriously good food.

Three Categories. Three Challenges.

Childhood Favorites

This one is all about nostalgia. The goal isn't simply to recreate something I loved growing up. I want to take that childhood favorite and give it the Daddio on the Patio treatment: something familiar, something comforting, something that takes you right back to being a kid with that first bite — but with enough of a twist to make it worthy of the competition.

I want that reaction: "I haven't had that in years."

Movie Inspired

This category gives me room to have some fun. There are countless iconic food moments from movies, and now the challenge is figuring out how to take that inspiration and turn it into something that absolutely works on the Blackstone.

The movie connection needs to be there. The creativity needs to be there. But most importantly, the food needs to kick ass. A clever idea might get someone's attention; great food is what keeps it.

Guilty Pleasure

This might be the category where I can really let loose. We're talking about those foods you know you probably shouldn't eat — but you absolutely will anyway. Cheesy. Crispy. Greasy. Over-the-top. The kind of food that makes you forget about calories until the plate is empty.

And that's exactly what I want. No guilt. Just griddle.

The Preparation Starts Now

The hardest part of competition cooking isn't always the cooking. It's deciding what deserves to make the final three.

There are already plenty of ideas bouncing around in my head. Some sound amazing. Some need work. And some will probably make it onto the Blackstone once before I look at them and say, "Yeah… that's not it." That's part of the process.

I'm testing flavors, textures, sauces, toppings, seasonings, presentation, and — most importantly — execution. Every dish has to check a few boxes:

  • Does it taste incredible?
  • Does it fit the category?
  • Is it creative?
  • Does it look badass on the plate?
  • Does the Blackstone make it better?
  • Does it make someone take that first bite and immediately want another one?

That's the standard. I'm not interested in putting something on a plate just because it technically checks the box. I want dishes that make people stop and pay attention.

Some Ideas Will Get Cut

That's inevitable. Some recipes will taste great but won't photograph well. Some will look amazing but won't have enough flavor. Some ideas will be too complicated to execute. And some will simply be outmatched by something better.

Those dishes get cut. That's part of competing. The goal isn't to fall in love with an idea; the goal is to find the three strongest dishes possible.

This Isn't My First Rodeo

I've spent a lot of time cooking on the Blackstone, experimenting, creating recipes, and figuring out what works. Now it's time to put all of that experience to work.

I know what I want the food to taste like. I know what I want it to look like. And I know what I want people to say after they take that first bite.

I'm not going there just to participate. I'm going there to compete.

The Golden Spatula

Eventually, all the brainstorming, testing, cooking, tasting, tweaking, and second-guessing comes down to three plates. Three categories. Three shots.

Childhood Favorites. Movie Inspired. Guilty Pleasure.

And when it's all said and done, I want one thing: that Golden Spatula.

Last year was about the experience. This year? I'm coming for the win.

So let the testing begin. Let the griddles heat up. Let the competition come.

This year, I'm bringing home that Golden Spatula.

— Daddio on the Patio