|
Hungry enough to try some extreme food contests? See if you can stomach these Bay Area food challenges.
Girl Wonders: Friend or Pho?
By Sandra Chen
Vomiting terrifies me — the ache in your stomach and the choking sensation in your throat, the feeling of chunky oatmeal-like substance crawling up your esophagus, the taste of bile coating your tongue, everything. But I was willing to push myself towards this probably disgusting vile end to finish the infamous Pho Challenge at Pho Garden at 2109 Clement St. (phogardensf.com): Eat two pounds of noodles and two pounds of meat in under an hour. The winner receives a 22-pound bowl as a trophy if he or she succeeds.
I did my research on eating competitions. Eat large meals quickly. Drink several gallons of water a day to stretch out your stomach. Eat each of your meals as if it were a challenge. Exercise to build up your metabolism. I thought I was ready to take home the gigantic ceramic bowl. But it was not to be.
Eating the meal was like giving an inverted brith. Instead of pushing out a seven pound baby, I was forcing a four pound child down my throat. I even tried Lamaze breathing tactics between bites. I do not know which is more painful, but I do know that that hour was the longest hour of my life.
According to the North American Association for the Study of Obesity, the brain takes around 20 minutes to register that your stomach is full. I figured that if I could wolf down the majority of food within that first 20 minutes, I could trick myself. I burnt my tongue on the steaming noodles and only chewed once before swallowing each bite. With 40 minutes left, I felt like I had a tennis ball lodged in the back of my mouth, preventing me from swallowing any food. But I kept pushing myself. At around the half-way mark, each agonizing bite I took sounded like someone chanting “failure, failure, failure.” I could barely place the food in my mouth without gagging a little. With 20 minutes left on the clock, I could only slurp one noodle at a time. I lost all hope of winning. At the 10 minute mark, I was simply waiting to be put out of my sheer misery. When the timer finally went off, I had finished roughly half of the bloated noodles and rubbery meat.
While I did not end my night covered in vomit, I spent the rest of the evening wallowing in misery and lamenting the 22-pound trophy-sized hole in my life. For anyone out there who has ever had a dream of one day wolfing down four pounds of food in an hour: If you can stomach the taste of bile on your numb tongue and enjoy an aching pain in your belly whenever you bend over, this is the challenge for you.
Teen's Super Stomach Subdued by the Kryptonite
By Matthew Estipona
Adolescent males are supposed to consume 2,500-3,000 calories each day, according to FDA. There are 3,245 calories in the Kryptonite, a behemoth of a sandwich concocted by the diabolical geniuses at Ike’s Place, 3506 16 Street, San Francisco. (http://ilikeikesplace.com/) Weighing in at four pounds and a foot in length, the sandwich is a mountain of meat including ham, turkey, pastrami, roast beef, corned beef and of bacon. Add five slices of provolone, four cups of lettuce, one whole tomato, a mound of onion rings, jalapeño peppers and mozzarella sticks and you’ve got a ticket to the emergency room from heart attack. The challenge: to finish. The prize: glory and the inevitable heartburn.
The sandwich artists at Ike’s Place have created a Frankenstein-like monster in the Kryptonite. Though daunting, the sandwich was tempting, and having devoured their second largest item, the Superman, I foolishly believed that the Kryptonite would be no different.
When I first held the Kryptonite I was surprised by how light it was. As I unwrapped it, I noticed a tantalizing aroma of rosemary. The bloody meat soaked the sides of the sandwich as the melted cheese oozed out. Little did I know I was in for a world of pain.
I downed the first half of the sandwich, two pounds, with ease in less than five minutes. Then it came from nowhere. A sharp pain hit my chest. I felt like my heart was about to explode. Each bite seemed like a dagger stabbing my chest and the once enticing taste of the meat had disappeared as each bite became an ordeal. The once crisp mozzarella sticks and onion rings were soggy remnants of their fried coating and the provolone cheese and mashed avocado fused into a lump of goo amidst the wilted lettuce. I felt the first half of the sandwich reap its revenge as it crept back up my esophagus. I dropped the sandwich and headed for the nearest restroom. The sandwich won. I failed.
The Kryptonite lived up to its infamous name, mortally weakening my once Superman-like morale. That said, the training for my next attempt at the beast begins. I already have a strategy: don’t eat a five-egg omelet for breakfast and bring a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
Reporter Survives The Dive
By Edna Wu
Who is crazy enough to eat three pounds of ice cream in 15 minutes? I kept myself awake the night before and woke up early on the morning of April 5 wondering if by the end of the day, I would be one of those people. Eith
er way, I had to attempt The Dive ($13.95 plus tax at Fenton’s Creamery at 4226 Piedmont Ave, Oakland, CA 94611 (fentonscreamery.com)) According to a waitress there, only about half the people who try succeed. I thought that it might not be so bad after all.
Little did I know how much it would take to cram the Banana Special, a mountain of melting vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream topped with pineapple bits, strawberry and chocolate fudge, whipped cream and a cherry, and finished by a huge banana into my mouth all under fifteen minutes, and all by myself.
To prepare for the challenge, I skipped breakfast and arrived at Fenton’s at around 11:15 a.m. But although it was late in the morning, I could not make myself hungry. It was probably my nerves impeding my stomach’s need for food. I went in with my sister and friend, got a seat in the corner of the Creamery and ordered the Banana Special.
I had a good start, finishing almost half of the special in seven minutes. I began to feel like I would most definitely win. At nine minutes, my mouth started freezing, I started feeling the sickening sweetness of the ice cream in my stomach and wondered how I could possibly finish the rest.
But with the support of my sister and my friend, I made it through. I was so relieved when the waitress passed by my table 14 minutes in and said, “It’s okay, you’re done.” I bolted for the bathroom and coughed up bits of the banana split into the sink. I resolved to never do anything like this ever again.
After resting for a while, the waitress brought me with her to claim my prize. My sister and friend congratulated me, but I could not begin celebrating yet. I ran to the bathroom because the ice cream was truly overflowing up into my throat. Finally, the waitress finished rummaging through the back of a podium and came up with a bright golden T-shirt reading, “I Survived The Dive.”
My happiness came too soon, though. As I was walking out of Fenton’s, my stomach hurt so much, I could not stand up straight. But the pain could not stop the smile on my face as I kept thinking about the amazing feat I had just accomplished. Will I ever do this again? Definitely not. Did I think it was worth it? Absolutely.
Killer Whale Sushi Conquers Boy
By Ryan Yu
When the manager of Bay Shabu in West Portal started the clock at 4:11 p.m., I felt a surge of nervous energy.
I stared at the colossal Killer Whale Roll in front of me, topped with so much spicy tuna and “special sauce” that the roll itself was barely visible. The next 30 minutes would be nothing short of agonizing as I attempted to stuff myself with four pounds of food. Sure I was hungry, but I had neither prepared for nor ever consumed such a volume in one sitting, much less in 30 minutes. I was terrified.
I dug into the roll with a ferocity akin to that of Lowell alumnus Miguel Mallorca, who set the record at 14 minutes.
The first bite was good. Granted I had not eaten that day, but I felt that this challenge would not be as bad as it seemed. Aside from the sauce, the roll was very good, filled with goodies like shrimp tempura, sweet potato tempura, unagi, salmon, crab and avocado. I blazed through the first quarter without breaking a sweat. My pace was strong and my outlook bright.
Now the biggest “killer” in the Killer Whale Roll was not its size, but the special sauce that covered it. I cannot emphasize enough how much I loathed the teriyaki, mayonnaise, mustard and sriracha combination. I wondered why any sushi chef would dare use such a concoction in his artful rolls. The manager insisted that the combination created the unique “fusion” flavor of the dish. Unique as it was, the flavors were all over the place. Imagine combining ten soda flavors.
I was halfway through the roll before I felt the heartburn kick in. I took a deep breath and tried to push ahead, but the breathing sent sharp pains into my stomach where the potent special sauce was acting up. Not only did the sauce irritate my stomach, the smell made me nauseous. Ten minutes left. I was pretty full and had little will left to finish the second half of what, now, seemed like a disgusting pile of grub.
The Killer Whale stared back at me as I struggled to take another bite. I finally surrendered when the nauseating aroma became too repulsive to bear. I pushed back the plate and asked for a box.
Although I failed miserably in the Killer Whale challenge and was thoroughly disgusted, it was all in good fun. There is a unique feeling of sadness, joy, tragedy and triumph that comes with such an audacious and foolish undertaking. The overall experience was memorable but as I told a flabbergasted 10-year-old girl at the next table, “don’t try it.”
All illustrations by Karen Chin
|
