Finish it in 30 minutes or less
Saint Louis has its fair share of food challenges, ranging from a 10lb pizza from Pointer’s Pizza to a five milkshake chug fest at Crown Candy. When someone calls something a challenge, it usually means there’s a long list of failures and a very short list of people who have conquered the food feat. I decided to try out one of these challenges, and test out why these damn things are so hard. The Dubliner gave me the opportunity to embarrass myself as I tested out their Hot Mess challenge.
Patrick Russell (right) and I before the challenge
looks forking delicious
The Hot Mess consists of 3 6 oz. burgers grilled to your desire smothered in swiss and irish cheddar. Those locally raised beef patties are, then, sandwiched between a full pound reuben that has been sliced in half. Accompanying this colossal sandwich are two fried pickles, resting as a garnish on the top with a pound of golden, thick-cut fries covering the rest of the plate. To wash it all down, you’ll have to finish off a pint of Guinness and slug a shot of Jameson in the allotted 30 minutes. All this just for your picture on a ‘Wall of Shame’ and a Hot Mess t-shirt.
I scheduled my challenge in the afternoon at 2pm on a Friday. My prep consisted of a fiber filled diet the previous day, attempting to stretch my stomach and clean myself out. I got a good night’s sleep and awoke the next morning pretty anxious. I was about to consume about 5 lbs of food that day, and decided to forego any breakfast, settling on a large americano from the coffee shop down the street. 2pm slowly rolled around and I was starving. I posted myself up to the bar at the Dubliner and was greeted by 6 year owner, Patrick Russell. He was cool and collected and had the face of a man who rarely saw defeat when it came to this food challenge. I ordered my Hot Mess up with my burgers medium-rare, unaware of about what I had just got myself into.
surveying my meal
After a 15 minute wait, a ridiculous tower of food was heading my way. It sat in front of me, and I instantly started to focus and planned my strategy. A shot of whiskey and a pint of Guinness were placed next to this enormous sandwich. In a flash, I knew what to do first. I picked up the shot of whiskey and slammed it back with Patrick starting my 30 min clock at the same time. Next, I tackled the beef patties, removing the wooden skewers and throwing them to the side. I dug my fork deep into the perfectly cooked burgers, dispatching them very quickly. Then, the smaller half of the reuben stood in my way and I devoured it without delay.
might as well start with a shot
The plate looked quite a bit less daunting at that point, and I started in on the larger half of the reuben, plowing into the corned beef. I was making good time and had a solid pace going. All of the sudden the corned beef became my nemesis, and trying to chew it became very difficult. Each bite took me more and more time as I began to struggle with every swallow.
halfway point
The halfway point was arriving and I still had a massive meal ahead of me. Staring at the fried pickles, I realized that I was going to need something to break up the monotonous nature of the chewy deli meat. The pickles were working fabulously, and I finished off the rest of the rest of the corned beef leaving some of the bread for later.
might as well down the Guinness
I was at the 6 minute mark and a full pound of fries lay before me with the pint of Guinness staring me down as well. I asked for a little assistance with some ketchup from the wonderful photographer I brought along to document my adventure. Sara expedited the red food lube onto my plate as precious seconds wasted away. I dipped my first fry and proceeded to stuff it in my mouth and swallow it down. I had flirted with vomiting a few times during this challenge, and this time my body let out its last warning, telling me to slow the fuck down. It was at this moment that I knew that it wasn’t going to be my day as I stared down at the mountain of fries with my fingers together in a look of defeat. I gave it my best and battled to the end, washing each fried potato down with gulps of thick Guinness. Finally, with about 3/4 of the fries still left on my plate, the timer went off, signaling my defeat.
I stood up, gave my plate a glance, and collapsed to the floor. The feeling was incredibly uncomfortable, and a small Hot Mess baby bulged my belly. Someone had brought in a dog, who undoubtedly sensed my discomfort, and licked my face. I felt a little deflated because I didn’t win, but I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would have felt physically if I had actually choked down the remaining fries. I stood up after a couple of minutes on the ground, and grabbed my last half of Guinness, sipping it at the bar.
i failed by this much
Fork U 