Bellying Up

"I can take you, little man," I thought of my opponent as the seconds ticked away during the first round in a series of world-record speed eating. The dish: a bowl of Chinese noodles. My opponent: five-time hot-dog eating champion Takeru Kobayashi, weighing in at 131 pounds and standing at a diminuative 5’7” tall. He ate his way to fame in New York last year, wolfing down 53 1/2 dogs in 12 minutes and 69 burgers in eight minutes. He had dared anyone and everyone in Hong Kong to an unprecedented eating contest, “The Lung Of The World.” Could anyone eat more noodles, dim sum and char siu buns than Kobayashi? In a challenge I privately coined as “Gourmet vs. Gourmand,” I joined 200 other cocky eaters and took him on.

Day One

I waited with an unlikely group of university students, housewives, businessmen and one guy who stood out from the pack: big Johnny Wu, wearing a black shirt, sunglasses, pony tail and a distinctive “master of the universe” attitude. He stood serenely aside while first-round contestant Billy Chan ate a Big Mac and Coke next to me. “Are you trying to stretch your stomach or something?” I asked. “Nah, I’m just hung-over.” Homemaker Flora Wong didn’t mince words either. “I don’t say no to free food,” she said. It didn't bode well for our side.

Could any of us hope to beat Kobayashi? The 30 fastest noodle eaters in the first round would meet him in the semi-finals. I had already made a strategic mistake: The week before, I had met some of the contestants and downed nine bowls of soba noodles in 11 minutes, so I thought I might have a chance and I was planning a similar strategy to get down as many buns as possible. But this preliminary round was about speed, not volume.

Schoolteacher and spectator Annie Chung seemed hopeful that Hong Kong could prove its eating mettle. “That the world champion is Asian - and such a tiny guy - is really amazing. In the videos, you see these huge Americans all get beat. In our rushed lifestyle, surely someone from Hong Kong could do well in a speed-eating competition.”

“I have never participated in a competition in Hong Kong,” Kobayashi told me before the contest, “so I was curious if anyone here was really serious about eating contests. I’m not worried about the food for the contest, since I’ve eaten Chinese dumplings in the past. I prepare by gradually increasing my diet up to the competition, then fasting for three days prior. I also work out three or four times a week.” Indeed, the guy’s got an eight-pack of abs, and he claims there are loads of ladies out there ready to snap him up. “They think I look attractive when I eat.” His track record is more than enough to back up these cocky boasts.

Soon there were only a few competitors left, including me. Having waited all afternoon, my “come, eat and conquer” strategy was in serious danger: I was getting thirstier and thirstier but wanted to avoid filling myself up with water. I spoke with the towering Johnny Wu, who had just moved on to the second round and looked like Hong Kong's best bet to unseat the champion. “I just try to keep calm, remain focused and block everything else out,” he told me as he keenly eyed the scoreboard. That's when we found out that the only time Kobayashi had lost an eating competition in the last five years was to a 500kg Kodiak bear in a “Man vs. Beast” segment for Fox TV, which he still nearly beat. Things didn't look good.

Still, 37 seconds seemed doable. After all, it was just noodles and broth. But as my time drew closer, the contestants dropped from six per round to just two or three, placing increased scrutiny on the remaining few. The glare of the media and hundreds of onlookers was surprisingly intimidating. The whistle blew and it was time for me and eventual finalist Tam Yui-chong, who managed 30 buns in 12 minutes, to step up to the plate. The noodles were a little chewier than expected, but the broth went down easily in 1:38 and it was on to round two.