Is it possible to die of overeating? I pondered this question recently after eating more-or-less steadily from 1pm to 10pm. I started the day by figuring out what to wear - an important, but often overlooked consideration when serious gluttony is involved. It was not so much the style of my dress that was so important, but whether it had a waistline that could be discreetly loosened. My editor suggested I weigh myself before starting my 18-course feast and then at the end of the day, but I did not want to get depressed. I breakfasted on a cup of coffee before taking the ferry to Macau. 'Chef of the 20th century' Joel Robuchon had flown in from France and was getting ready for a sold-out dinner at Robuchon a Galera in the Hotel Lisboa (tel: 853 377 666 ext 3151). The dinner featured 18 of Robuchon's famous dishes - some that had helped to establish his reputation during his long, Michelin-starred career, as well as newer dishes he created for the restaurant in Macau. The gala dinner for paying guests was two days away, and Robuchon and his team were on a trial run for food writers and Alan Ho, the executive director of Florinda Hotels. I had tasted several of the dishes at previous dinners - the oscietra caviar with fine jelly and caviar cream, and the sea urchin cooked in its shell with fennel reduction were just as good as I recalled. But most of the dishes were new to me. I loved the frog's legs with garlic puree and parsley coulis, goose foie gras with chicken jelly, and lobster ravioli with muscat and rosemary. Instead of the expected pasta, the lobster was wrapped in fine sheets of daikon radish. The palate-cleansing intermezzo between the seafood and meat courses was a jelly made from rose champagne, topped with a light, frothy mousse of white champagne that somehow retained its bubbles. Despite so many courses, there were only two I could not finish - a rich crayfish soup with 'petite legumes' so small they resembled pearls of tapioca, and the juicy, caramelised half-quail with white truffles. Robuchon's team this trip included Philippe Benot, a pastry chef from Le Seize restaurant in Paris. Desserts featured an unusual use of sweet potatoes - sliced thinly and poached in vanilla syrup then wrapped around mango mousse. We loved 'au nom de la rose', which Benot created for Ho's wife, who loves roses and jasmine. He worked the essences of the flowers into a dessert also including lychees and raspberries. As I sipped my espresso, I could not resist the array of mignardises: tiny gaufrettes, chocolates and tarts. After changing into casual clothes I made my way to Tim's Kitchen (89 Jervois Street, Sheung Wan, tel: 2543 5919), where I had an engagement with friends for my first snake soup of the winter. Wilson Kwok (of W's Entrecote in Times Square) had ordered a feast. I started well, eating two bowls of snake soup and my share of the two preceding courses, including braised pomelo skin with goose webs. After the second bowl I realised I would have to eat more judiciously or burst. I took small mouthfuls of crab meat with bamboo pith and broccoli, crispy fried chicken, an overcooked 'eight treasures' braised duck and a restaurant speciality, rice noodles in satay sauce. Then I heaved myself, stomach first, into a taxi.