Back to The Fudd: The 2-Pound Challenge

Not long after our first visit to Fuddruckers, myself and a couple other adventuresome eaters from the office decided to double the stakes by attempting the two-pound challenge. That's two one-pound burger patties between two Frisbee-sized buns. By the way, the proud guy above is me shortly before digging in.

Having already conquered the one-pound burger – sometimes with a pile of steak fries on the side – I knew it wouldn't be a matter of if I’d be able to finish, but if I’d be able to finish before Rick and Beau. They were the two others that decided to join me in the spectacle while about five others, as usual, opted for slightly less caloric options.

Now as much as I love Fuddruckers, one thing I don’t like is that in order to create a two-pound burger you have buy two whole $8 one-pounders. No “add four bucks for an extra patty” option here. But it didn’t matter, we more than made up for it by taking advantage of the one dollar domestic bottles.

So we paid for our orders and gave the cashier our names. As always at The Fudd, after you pay you grab a table and when your meal is ready they call your name over the loudspeaker. In true competitive eater style, Beau went by the name of “Burger Monster” while I opted for the less intimidating “Dave.”

About 20 minutes later, we were drooling over our plates while Burger Monster’s order seemed to be taking a bit longer. Rick and I couldn’t dig in until we were all served, so Beau went to check on his order. Unfortunately, just as the Burger Monster was approaching the counter, the 17-year-old girl behind it was putting the finishing touches on his two massive mushroom and swiss artery cloggers. Grabbing the microphone for probably the 100th time that day, she suddenly stopped short when she saw Burger Monster's name. "Is this you?" she asked. “Yeah, that’s me,” said Beau, “but can you call the name?” She politely refused. “What if I weren’t here?” asked Beau, “What if I walked away? Would you call my name then?” Another refusal. Oh well, the real fun was about to begin.

Actually, the fun was over quicker than I thought. Rick threw in the towel after about 20 minutes with a little less than half of his burger left. It's cool though, because he's a wee fellow of about 5 feet and 90 pounds. Some kind of pituitary thing, I guess. Meanwhile, Beau and I continued chowing down at a leisurely pace. Finally, after a few quick bites when I realized he was getting ahead of me, we finished our last morsels simultaneously. Total time: 36 minutes. And we weren't really trying to eat fast.

The waitress was pretty sure she’d never seen anyone eat a two-pounder before. In fact, she’d never even seen someone attempt it. This confirmation that we were the two biggest pigs she’d ever seen filled us with equal parts pride and embarrassment (with maybe a little bit more embarrassment, but who cares). And just like last time, she honored our amazing feat with two giant ice cream sundaes on the house. Needless to say, we graciously passed our desserts on to our co-workers – but not before grabbing one or two or five bites for ourselves.