A week ago, many Americans took pause to celebrate Independence Day. Typically, such celebration includes a bit of barbecue, a few firecrackers, and perhaps even lemonade and apple pie. But for some, the July 4th holiday would not be complete without astonishing amounts of food consumption. I’m talking crazy amounts of food.

I hope he had a comfortable toilet; I imagine he needed it.
Actually, Chestnut and others are professional eaters aligned to the International Federation of Competitive Eating. The Nathan’s contest being just one of many stops along the circus that is the Major League Eating tour. (don’t even get me started as to whether or not eating is ‘sport’ and worthy of league sanctioning)
What is it about this grotesque intake of food that compels so many to abate better judgment, only to conclude that such consumption might
possibly be a good idea?
As I begin to firmly settle into life here in Seattle, I try to convince myself that we in the PNW appreciate food more so than mainstream America. I like to believe we are not foolish and gluttonous, abusive of cuisine.
I was wrong.
Imagine my horror when recently, while reading a local newspaper, I stumbled across an article featuring some knucklehead reporter hell-bent on besting the “ten pound hamburger challenge”.
To be precise, the ten-pound challenge is a bit misleading in that the challenge consists of two objectives really; a single five-pound monster cheeseburger, besieged by five pounds of greasy French-fries.

Actually, Chestnut and others are professional eaters aligned to the International Federation of Competitive Eating. The Nathan’s contest being just one of many stops along the circus that is the Major League Eating tour. (don’t even get me started as to whether or not eating is ‘sport’ and worthy of league sanctioning)
What is it about this grotesque intake of food that compels so many to abate better judgment, only to conclude that such consumption might
possibly be a good idea?
As I begin to firmly settle into life here in Seattle, I try to convince myself that we in the PNW appreciate food more so than mainstream America. I like to believe we are not foolish and gluttonous, abusive of cuisine.
I was wrong.
Imagine my horror when recently, while reading a local newspaper, I stumbled across an article featuring some knucklehead reporter hell-bent on besting the “ten pound hamburger challenge”.
To be precise, the ten-pound challenge is a bit misleading in that the challenge consists of two objectives really; a single five-pound monster cheeseburger, besieged by five pounds of greasy French-fries.
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