Benny Doyle consumes roughly two per cent of his body weight in burger and (barely) lives to tell his competitive eating tale.
There's something rather primitive about wanting to consume 1.8kg of food. It's a macho game, but when the chips are down – and deliciously salted – it's hard to pass up the opportunity to gorge your way to glory, and a gift voucher.
Food challenges used to be a very American pursuit. It goes with the greased up mentality of the ultimate fast food nation. However, big bites are starting to weigh in right across Australia. Shows like Man v. Food have made feasting on the filling, fried and fatty a prime time practice, while the explosion of 'soul food' in restaurants and bars around the country has brought burgers, wings and tacos back in vogue.
That's happened once according to our waitress, Brylee Hockings, and it wasn't pretty
I will confess, though… away from the public domain, my friends and I have long liked to test our waistline with 'eating challenges'; sometimes for money, always for pride. From last man standing events (Pizza Hut buffet), endurance tests (first person to eat 4kg of peas) to competitions of mental toughness (finish a super size Slurpee the fastest), we've put ourselves through some serious paces in the name of boredom. But nothing we've conjured up has ever posed such an almighty challenge as the Phat Bastard Burger.
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Found at Longboards Laidback Eatery & Bar under Q1 on the Gold Coast, the Phat Bastard's comprised of a 300g wagyu patty, fistfuls of bacon, pulled pork, coleslaw, onion rings, cheddar cheese and salad, all lumped within a brioche that seems to weigh as much as a loaf of bread. The challenge is to finish the burger – plus a serving of fries – within 30 minutes: no help, no leaving the table, no vomiting.
That's happened once according to our waitress, Brylee Hockings, and it wasn't pretty. Hopefully there's no repeat performance this evening. When my friend and I say we want to attack the Phat, her eyes light up. “Oh what, the Phatty?” she confirms with a somewhat sadistic smile. We nervously nod and the kitchen's quickly put on notice.
Hockings informs that since the burger was introduced at the beginning of 2013 less than 50 people have completed it, the most recent success coming just last night. She offers up a few successful techniques that range from separating ingredients and dividing portions to letting the bun soak in water, just like the competitive hot dog eaters. At that moment I order a jug of the clear stuff, while my buddy still orders a pint of Kronenbourg – audacious. When the burgers finally emerge all patron eyes turn to our table. The thing is roughly the size of my head. An egg timer is then placed on the table, we're briefed, counted in, and it's on.
We failed, but as we learn tonight, most do.
The first five minutes are probably some of the most enjoyable eating I've ever experienced. I'm offensively hungry, yes, but the burger is incredible – flavours haven't been compromised for the sake of novelty size – and the combination of mayo and tangy barbecue sauce balances the saltiness of the meat perfectly. A large portion of my bun is soaking in the water, I'm working away at the chips – 'This is doable' I think to myself.
Then all of sudden my stomach starts panicking, and frankly, I would to. There's my average guy guts just chilling out, regular Saturday night, expecting a constant flow of amber fluids, only for huge mouthfuls of food to start raining down upon it. My insides don't know what to do with the excess. Meat sweats kick in at around the halfway mark, and not long after all my motor skills begin to slow down, my body suffocating in consumption.
Twenty minutes are gone and my friend has thrown in the napkin; half his burger and beer still in front of him. I persevere almost until the end, however, when the timer rings I'm staring at close to an entire brioche. We failed, but as we learn tonight, most do. The head chef hasn't even conquered the Phat.