Today, I am at Makuhari Messe Convention Centre for Foodex Japan. In its 40th year, the event stands as the biggest trade show for food and beverage in Asia, featuring three thousand exhibitors from seventy-nine different countries. I received a private invitation, allowing me to hand over a business card at the entrance and receive my journalist pass, thus saving me the ¥5000 public entry fee. The first challenge I encounter at the event is their strict no-photography policy. They even threaten ejection from the event for anyone caught taking photographs, sneaking in animals, or attending solely for free food and drink.

Naturally, I adhere strictly to the rules, refraining from releasing any concealed animals into the exhibition halls or taking sneaky snaps of the event from a balcony above.  And, of course, my primary purpose for attending is certainly not to indulge in the free samples of food and drink offered by the three thousand exhibitors. Today, all food and drink are complimentary, with stallholders actively encouraging me to sample their offerings.

I start with cheese. I seldom eat cheese in Japan, so when given the opportunity to be an official judge in a packaging and taste competition, I seize the chance. The competition involves comparing thirty-one cheeses from Japan. Just as I’m about to get serious about my judging responsibilities, the comedian in charge reminds me to take it seriously before asking me to select a wooden stick from a box. “Careful for electric shocks,” the man says, “this is high technology, like a supercomputer.” So much for taking things too seriously.

The cheese I have randomly selected is a Brazilian cream cheese made in Japan. I assess the packaging (somewhat basic) and evaluate the unique selling point of the product (non-existent). Next, I can choose any two other cheeses to rate in comparison. I opt for two cheeses that I’m eager to try. Following the rating, a taste test ensues, providing me with the opportunity to score the flavour and determine the likelihood of a future purchase. Interestingly, the cheese I selected, which appears to be the most expensive among the thirty-one, turns out to be the worst cheese I have ever tried.

After savouring the cheese, I crave a drink, prompting me to head for a cup of tea.

Unfortunately, the Yogi Tea stand offers their sample in the form of a tea bag. No hot water here. I have a chat with Sada-Anand Khalsa, a self proclaimed Yogi Tea Ambassador. His beard is better than mine, and his tea is apparently very wonderful. As I talk to him, he appears distracted, distant, and looks like he is about to fall off his stool. He’s probably had a few too many cups of his bedtime organic tea product, no doubt.

I continue exploring the red-carpeted route, treating myself to devil fruits and açaí berry smoothies. In Pakistan, I’m given the chance to try six-billion-year-old sea salt, and in Egypt, I indulge in some tasty salted peanuts. Upon reaching Japan, I find myself surrounded by microphones and cameras, as I become the subject of a television show—quite ironic, considering the event’s no photography or recording equipment policy. During the interview, I’m asked to sample Japanese food to capture my authentic reaction. However, they choose edamame, a dish I consume almost weekly, making it challenging for me to convey a genuine response to the familiar taste of beans.

After the interview, I head to England to enjoy a scone. However, I notice that the stalls here are manned by individuals with uninviting expressions and disappointed faces. Unlike everywhere else I’ve stopped, where warm smiles and polite conversation welcomed me, it’s a different experience in England. Disheartened, I make the decision to leave and never return. Instead, I choose to visit the friendly land of Scotland for some delectable scallops. Later, I make my way to the welcoming Wales to enjoy a sample of a beer I’m already familiar with—Dark Side of the Moose.

In Austria, I take a moment to chat with a friendly man about beer. The Flying Brewery proves to be wonderful and charming. After expressing a clear interest in sampling copious amounts of their free alcohol, the amiable man turns to his colleague and exclaims, “He wants to try them all!” This marks perhaps the turning point in my day, leading me into the delightful world of free alcohol. The beers here are fantastic, and I relish each and every one. The brewery even gifts me a set of twelve coasters and poses for a photograph. While a part of me considers that the journalist pass around my neck might have influenced their hospitality, another part of me believes that they are genuinely kind and passionate about their craft.

With an ever-increasing thirst for beer, I head over to the only place that can satisfy my taste: Belgium. After wandering around in beer heaven for about an hour and sampling familiar delights such as Stella Artois and Hoegaarden, I move on to some of my favourite drinks—Delirium Tremens, Kriek, and Chimay.
“One more glass, sir?” says the man at the Chimay stand.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I reply, feeling very humbled and slightly drunk.

I continue to explore, observing snakes in bottles of miscellaneous liquid and engaging with companies solely present at the event to secure a Japanese distributor. After a bit of stumbling, I find myself in Mexico, enticed by amusingly shaped bottles of expensive tequila.

AsomBroso is a luxury tequila from Tequila, Mexico, and one bottle costs around ¥7000. After sampling a small glass, I strike up a conversation with the friendly man manning the booth. A simple mention of the word ‘journalist’ earns me a second glass and an invitation to take a photograph of his display. The tequila is, in fact, the best I have ever tasted—good quality stuff.

In Finland, I chat with a nice lady about the health benefits of bilberry. In Indonesia, I indulge in fresh tuna sashimi. Thailand offers me samples of multiple hot sauces served with various delicious canapés. However, my favourite dish of the day comes from Malaysia—shrimp noodles in a spicy sauce broth that comes with a strong warning: ‘Extremely hot, eat carefully and very slowly.’ As I wander through multiple stores offering sweets, dried fruits, organic chocolate, and health products, I somehow take a wrong turn and end up in Australia. Unfortunately, there’s no attention from the yawning people here, no free samples, only misery.

Finally, I explore what China has to offer. I am surprised by the contrast between China and Australia; the politeness expressed by the people here at such a late time in the day, and the complete lack of yawning and misery is a big surprise to me. Everyone wants to speak to me, everyone is friendly, and of course, everyone wants me to try their products. One store I particularly enjoyed was Shantou Sweet House Foodstuff.

This Chinese confectioner offers many interestingly named products, such as Brain Licker, Nipple Lipstick Tooth Candy, and Plastic Fruity Sour Sour Stick. “Wait here for a moment,” says the stallholder, following our long conversation about sugar. He returns with a huge bag of sweets, including strawberry-flavoured popping candy that comes with two free stickers.

Leaving China, it feels like I’ve just been on a six-hour tour around the whole world. I exit the event and take the free shuttle bus over to Kaihin-Makuhari Station. For some reason, a woman in the train station hands me a free sample of a doughnut. Free samples are the last thing I can enjoy right now; food is the very last thing on my mind.

Back at home, as I empty out my full pockets of the many free gifts and brochures, it reminds me of a lost childhood memory of Halloween. I still have an awful lot more food to eat, but I can’t really complain. I enjoyed the event, the food, the beverages, on what has been quite a wonderful day in Chiba.