I am now going to tell you about something a bit gross. It involves a lot of hot dogs.
You may be aware that on the 4th of July, in addition to being Sam's birthday, is the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest in Coney Island. Sam has always had a fascination with competitive eating, so we decided to attempt an at-home eat-along this year.
Without thinking, I had created an awesome birthday breakfast, all ready to eat just two hours before the contest. No matter. We pressed forward. We boiled up a bunch of dogs and prepped the eating station.
The contest lasts for ten minutes, during which time you eat as many hot dogs (and buns) as possible. If you, ahem, toss your cookies, you are disqualified. We set some goals-- Sam: 10 Courtney: 2. And then we began.
I started slowly and finished slowly. Two hot dogs was definitely gross, but I didn't feel in any danger of my stomach exploding. I took the rest of the time to bask in my achievement and document Sam's journey.
Most competitive hot dog-eaters dip their dogs in water to help them move on down the gullet. (Nathan's Runner-up, Patrick Bertoletti, dips his in fruit punch.) If the whole thing weren't nauseating already, the thought of eating a soggy hot dog bun is enough to make me dry heave.
And just like that it was over. I chowed down my two with ease. Bria ate 1.5 (we didn't encourage speed with her, since we weren't keen on doing the heimlich). Sam dominated with a hefty SIX hot dogs. To say we all felt a bit disgusting is an understatement. I'm not sure I'll be able to eat a hot dog for another year or so.
But now let's ponder the reigning champion, Joey Chestnut, who pounded 62 hot dogs in ten minutes. SIXTY-TWO.
I'm sorry for ruining your appetite.