I just canceled my flight to Las Vegas, which is bittersweet. Perhaps more sweet than bitter as the song goes, as I canceled because I have already qualified to compete at Nathan's Famous on July 4th in Coney Island.
Twas the night before the hot dog contest, and in Coney Island, not a gurgitator was sleepin', But dreaming of the morrow's Herculean eatin'.
Although my mental prep seemed poised for victory, I wasn't prepared physically. My NYC diet of all-you-can-eat half-priced sushi and French toast has kept me in a shape, probably best described as an sagging water-balloon.
Who knew that an all-you-can-eat hot dog contest could be so poetic?
As the South Florida sun set, a golden maize hue on the horizon, one had to reflect on the corn eating championship. It was more than the usual competitive eating contest -- it had fights and forgiveness, despair and hope, bad behavior and magnanimity.
Eat this, Scorsese! I've read Jordon Belfort's book of excess, greed and over-consumption yet I felt it paled in comparison to the same qualities, but...
In 1968, as Washington, D.C. was overcome by riots, Ben's Chili Bowl not only stayed open, but served the rioters on one side and the police on the other, proving that chaos may reign in the streets, but chili brings only peace.
On the Major League Eating circuit the hot dog is the toughest food in competition due to the meat and bun combo, but the chicken wing is the most difficult.
The burger arrived, and it was, indeed, mammoth. It was a pound of beef topped by a pound of cheese, green chilies, pork belly, lettuce, tomato and tortilla strips (it's supposed to have onion rings also, but that would be disgusting).
Nothing says all-American like a summer food festival in the Heartland, and hamburgers are as American as it gets.
What is the commentary on our waste of food, our nation of obese overeaters? Eating contests? Let's get rid of them.
Ready to gawk?
Someone who can fit sixty-eight wieners in his mouth must be confident in his sexuality, however, Joey "Jaws" Chestnut, in a July 4th burst, irrevocab...
In the spirit of the strange, I decided to digest only fruit punch for 36 hours prior to my Nathan's hot dog qualifier in Pittsburgh.
Since 2002, I have competed in every Acme World Oyster Eating Contest that Nola has held. The mighty mollusk now has its own festival devoted to it, the first weekend in June.
Major League Eating has it's own Iditarod and butter is not on the menu. It's known as The Triple Crown of the Chowdown -- three eating events in three days and only the strongest weapons of mass digestion survive.