First Step is the Hardest!

It’s time to take a trip down Memory Lane.

I must go back… back to where it all began.

In the beginning, there was a burrito. It wasn’t just any burrito. This was a mythical burrito. People told stories about this burrito. This burrito was the prototypical burrito, from which all other, lesser burritos would be made.

This burrito weighed in at a massive FIVE POUNDS.

Okay, so I know that bigger burritos do exist (and I’ve even eaten a couple), but this was my first official restaurant eating challenge.

A co-worker told me about the small restaurant in Anaheim, called La Casa Garcia, that offered up this particular challenge. We speculated among several co-workers that I might be able to consume the huge burrito in one sitting. The payoff would be a meal on the house, courtesy of Mr. Garcia.

We had no idea if I could really do it. My eating prowess was established as fact following several after-work trips to Hometown Buffet. I could easily eat as much food as 4-5 colleagues combined.

This is where all the remarks of “you should be a pro eater” originated.

If anyone stood a chance of eating the King Ranch Burrito in one sitting, it was I.

And if I couldn’t do it, well, then all of this “pro eater” talk would definitely go away.

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We finally decided to gather up our friends and head over to La Casa Garcia.

The date was October 2, 2007. The time was 7:22 PM. This evening would live forever in infamy.

I would conquer the monster burrito, or the burrito would conquer me.

I was determined not to give up without a fight. I would eat until I could eat no more.

But first things first, we had to get to the place and put in our order.

There’s always an aura of mythology surrounding a restaurant with an eating challenge. This has got to be some special place, right? Offering free food is a crazy novelty, after all.

I’ve always had the same feelings of wonderment and adventure when frequenting a restaurant with an official challenge.

But, for the most part, they’re all just regular eating establishments. No blood dripping from the ceiling. No zombie waiters.

Stepping inside the restaurant’s door usually dispels the wondrous aura. I discover it’s just an ordinary eatery. It’s usually a hole-in-the-wall or a small chain location. The food might be wonderful, or the food might be mediocre.

The story with La Casa Garcia was no different, but it was the first. So it holds a special place in my hungry heart.

We walked in and took seats at a large rectangular table. It was a small, charming restaurant. The tables were covered in white cloth, silverware was bundled in those little white napkins, and candles were alight. The waitress brought us several baskets of house tortilla chips and little dishes of salsa.

The chips and salsa looked delicious. But I wasn’t wasting my appetite just yet.

The waitress was very courteous. She brought us large plastic cups full of ice water and menus. It didn’t take me long to find the item I wanted: THE 5 LB KING RANCH BURRITO: Refried beans, lettuce, tomatoes, ground beef, cheddar cheese, and cilantro in a large set of flour tortillas, drenched in enchilada sauce and garnished with sour cream and guacamole…. my dance with destiny was set.

When the waitress returned to take our orders, I let my friends go first. Then I placed my order – I think I was looking for dramatic effect by going last. Or maybe I was just shy.

I doubted people ordered this burrito very often.

But to be fair, I only attempted to place my order… because the waitress was trying to talk me out of it.

“Oh, no,” she said with wide eyes. “The King is too big. You’re a small… thin person. You can’t eat it all. You should get something else!”

This was a story that would become familiar with the passage of time.

People often equate a person’s weight or waist size with propensity for food consumption. I guess it makes some sense, since you have to eat a lot to become overweight or add mass to your waistline.

The truth is that the ability to consume large quantities of food has more to do with the elasticity of the human stomach. Some stomachs can “stretch out” more than others.

I suppose it’s a little like filling a balloon with water, or putting air in a tire.

Some can stretch a bit, and some can stretch a lot more. It’s another example of why we can’t judge books by their covers. Few people believe I can eat as much as I actually can.

I insisted on ordering the King Ranch Burrito.

“Don’t worry, I want to try it,” and I handed her my menu.

I thought it was a little weird that the waitress was trying to talk me out of ordering a $13.95 menu item. Aren’t employees supposed to increase sales for their companies?!

We waited and made small talk while waiting for our food to arrive. It was funny at the time, but I was dressed properly for my competitive eating debut. I had joined my friends right after my day of student-teaching had ended. I was sitting there in an orange dress shirt and red tie, waiting for my burrito.

One friend joked that I dressed up specifically for this burrito challenge.

My friends received their food in a few minutes’ time. Everything looked swell.

Then the waitress brought out my meal. She carried the tray with two hands, hoisting what looked like an orange football at shoulder level. She walked over to my section of the table and set down the platter in front of me.

All of the people at the adjoining table stared open-mouthed at the object on the platter. The children at the table behind me stopped eating to get a look at the burrito. I had unwittingly became the spectacle of the whole restaurant (I'm used to this by now).

“This is the King!” she declared.

One of my friends asked how often this challenge had been completed.

“There’s been eight men in the last twenty years,” she replied confidently. “Enjoy!”

I’d never seen anything as large or intimidating as this thing on my plate. It more closely resembled a wet football than any actual portion of Mexican cuisine.

The dollops of sour cream and guacamole adjoining the burrito were huge. They might have been a half-pound each. This might well have been more than a 5-lb meal. It looked like more than I had bargained for.

I decided to tackle the burrito with a little bit of strategy. I would just eat it slowly and steadily, cutting off small chunks with my fork and knife and using the sour cream and guacamole to get them down. I would actually not drink one drop of water during the meal itself. I was worried that the water would take up precious room.

I took my first bite – and wow! It was absolutely delicious. It probably helped that I was famished at that point. I hadn’t eaten in several hours. I figured that going in hungry would work in my favor. I kept eating, just taking bite after bite.

My friends began to make surprised comments at the half-way mark.

“Dude, you’re not normal. No one should be able to eat that much food.”

“That’s not human!”

“You’re not mortal!”

But they just continued to watch me in absolute fascination. It’s always intrigued me that people can actually get their kicks watching someone eat. I guess I play into it…. but I don’t let it distract me. I just do my thing - I keep eating!

By the time I reached the 75% mark, I began to feel unbearably full. I couldn’t come this far and fail.

Even if it was painful, I had to truck on.

Chewing was becoming a chore by now. My mouth was hardly producing saliva. It’s probably my body’s way of telling me to stop eating. I had felt this sensation before, but never with the intensity that I was feeling now.

I reached the 90% mark after another ten minutes of chewing and swallowing. It was really getting tough! My rate of consumption was slowing down to a crawl.

I looked down at my plate…. the soggy chunk of burrito was practically laughing at me. It was no bigger than an ordinary-sized burrito from Taco Bell or Del Taco.

I couldn’t let this thing get me down!

I would not give up.

I took another bite. As I chewed and swallowed, I felt the sudden urge to “reverse.” It’s not a good feeling when food wants to come back up the pipe.

I carefully chewed and swallowed the remaining four bites of food, simultaneously fighting the urge to purge while getting more into the system.

It was tough work, but it’s a skill every competitive eater needs to have!

The waitress had come by several times, each time impressed with my progress and composure.

When she came by after my successful completion, she was amazed.

I had been eating for virtually an entire hour. It was no speed run. But I got it done.

“The burrito is free!”

My friends erupted into cheers and applause. The people at the next table congratulated me on my feat.

“You’re the man,” said one burly guy at the adjoining table. He ordered the King Ranch Burrito after seeing the platter delivered to me. He only got half-way before throwing in the towel.

I felt like The Man after finishing the King Ranch Burrito. I actually drank two of the salsa dishes in celebration. I was burning my mouth, but I was on top the world.

I joked with my friends that we should get dessert…. they were absolutely horrified at this point. I was only joking, but still. They couldn’t believe that I could even think about food at that moment.

My friends speculated on the nutritional content of the meal I had just consumed. Judging from the average 500 calories present in a half-pound burrito, I must have taken in around 5,000 calories (since 5 lbs is just 80 oz, or ten half-pound burritos). It was a feat alright!

I was incredibly full the next day. I don’t think I’d ever felt that STUFFED before! I couldn’t eat until almost 6 PM the next night. It took me a couple days to really get back to properly eating again. But it made some sense, I suppose – I had eaten the average calorie count of nearly 2 ½ days in just one meal.

What can we say about five pounds in one shot? I bet some people don’t even eat five solid pounds in a week.

My digestive system was no doubt overworked.

It was no surprise that I had trouble sleeping that first night!

My friends were convinced about my eating abilities. I had broken the great burrito. My first challenge had been conquered! But it would be a long while I took on my next one. I don’t really know why.

Speculation began regarding my possibly nickname. I was the ninth man to complete the burrito at the restaurant’s original location on State College, so a few monikers were predictable:

The Burrito Killer.

Niner.

Number 9.

Nine Out of Twenty.

We also joked about making a custom jersey or title belt noting my accomplishment. That never happened.

None of those nicknames ever really stuck, either. That’s probably a good thing.