Saint Cannoli

According to legend, Saint Gennaro, the patron of Naples, survived numerous persecutions before his head ended up on the chopping block. His tormentors threw him to lions, pushed him into an amphitheater full of hungry bears, and tossed him into a furnace. Sure, Gennaro was tough. But could he have eaten 20 cannoli in six minutes?

As part of Little Italy's Feast of San Gennaro, 10 men honored the saint by seeing who could eat the most cannoli in 360 seconds. George Shea, chairman of the International Federation of Competitive Eating (IFOCE), served as emcee. He'd hosted this summer's Nathan's hot dog eating contest and once again flaunted his hyperbolic wit. He intoned that we live in dark times, and cited as evidence "the four horsemen of the esophagus." A man standing near me exclaimed several times, "If that guy were running for office, I'd vote for him."

Gianni Russo, who played Carlo Rizzi in The Godfather, served as celebrity judge. Shea had forgotten to bring a timer, so Russo counted down with his gold watch. He stood off to the side of the contestants to keep his his pin-striped suit safe from flying cannoli debris. The competitors stacked their cannoli on paper plates and poured cups of coffee and milk to wash down the dessert. Crazy Legs Conti, a Nathan's contest veteran and member of the competitive eating circuit, went in as the favorite. He granted interviews beforehand and received the greatest applause during introductions. Conti wore a pair of gloves, and after several minutes of frantic eating, Shea remarked that Conti looked as if he'd been working in a "cannoli garden." His gloves, beard, and dreadlocks were smeared with ricotta. Shea cautioned Conti to clean up the "detritus" or face a penalty. The emcee focused on the rivalry between Conti and Allen "The Shredder" Goldstein, who wore an IFOCE T-shirt and stood to Conti's right. Shea should have looked down the table to Brad Sciullo. After the final countdown, the judges declared newcomer Sciullo the champion. The 21-year-old had devoured 20 cannoli, edging out Conti and Goldstein, who tied at 19. Sciullo never removed his headphones—Apple might want to consider a competitive eating-themed iPod campaign.When Shea announced the winner, Sciullo started to cry. It startled me to see such an emotional reaction, especially since there was no cash (or cannoli) prize, but Sciullo sobbed real tears as he held his trophy aloft.

Somewhere Saint Gennaro cried, too, as he wiped away the cannoli crumbs left in his honor. He hadn't suffered in vain.

Feast of San Gennaro 

Little Italy • NY, NY 

photos and video by Adeet Deshmukh

Dumplings vs. Dragons

Which is a greater accomplishment? Consuming dozens of dumplings in two minutes, or racing a 40-foot boat across a lake?

On Sunday Adeet and I witnessed two very different competitions at Flushing Meadow Park as part of the Hong Kong Dragon Boat Festival: a dumpling eating contest and a boat race. We arrived just in time for the high noon dumpling-off. Emcees whipped up the crowd in both Cantonese and Mandarin, punctuating their Chinese with an occasional "Let's have a round of applause!" Sandy the Seagull, the Brooklyn Cyclones' mascot, did his part by soundlessly but enthusiastically hopping around the stage.

The contest was divided into heats, and men and women competed separately. Some women in the first round looked more like workers hurrying through a too-short lunch break than contenders for the dumpling purse (a $1,000 first prize). Others, though, demonstrated classic competitive eating strategy as they sprinkled their wontons with water, making them slippery enough to swallow without the inconvenience of chewing. The men ate ravenously, but their gusto didn't match the graphic gluttony of Nathan's Fourth of July hot dog eating contest. At Nathan's, contestants sent bits of bun flying, but I didn't see any dumpling debris here. Perhaps the dumplings' small size made the contest seem somewhat demure by comparison. 

After the men's first round, Adeet and I felt too hungry to watch other people eat. We went to the makeshift food court and bought a steamed pork bun, sticky rice wrapped in leaves, and noodles. We tried getting a bubble tea, but the vendor apologetically uttered a sentence I'd never heard before: "I'm out of bubbles." We settled for plain watermelon juice, which was delicious and refreshing, but I would have appreciated a discount for the lack of bubbles. The drink cost $5, the same price as all of our food. As we finished our lunch, we overheard an emcee announce the number of dumplings devoured by the men's winner: 66. The only thing Adeet and I had managed to finish in that time was our bun. 


Next we moved on to the boat races. No emcees stirred up the spectators, but a young boy standing near us did cheer on his father, who unfortunately finished second to last. Adeet and I didn't root for any one team but enjoyed watching the boats skim across the lake. Drummers in each boat kept rhythm, and rowers matched the tempo as they pushed their oars through the water. The narrow boats had little decoration except for the elaborately carved prows. As the boats glided past us after each match, we caught a close-up of the grinning dragon heads.

As we left the park, we passed a group of well-toned, muscled racers performing stretching and balance exercises. I wondered how the dumpling eaters had warmed up for their contest. However, I couldn't dismiss the dumplingvores' accomplishments, even if I questioned their training regimen. I knew I didn't have the stamina for dragon boats or dumplings.

The Hong Kong Dragon Boat Festival
Flushing Meadows Park • Queens, NY

photos by Adeet Deshmukh

The Mount Sinai of Mastication:Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest

I skipped the fireworks this Fourth of July. Pyrotechnics would only pale in comparison to the fanfare and spectacle of Nathan’s Famous International Hot Dog Eating Contest. Part Coney Island sideshow and part sporting event, the contest served up an all-American tradition of celebrating dubious accomplishments.

Adeet and I arrived almost three hours early, only to discover a large crowd had already beat us to the sidelines. We stood for an hour behind the press area, lamenting our limited view, when police removed several barriers and allowed us close to the stage. Now I hoped we weren't too close.

George Shea, the event’s emcee and chairman of the International Federation of Competitive Eating (IFOCE), recalled the old-school barkers of Coney Island's heyday. Sporting a boater and dapper suit, he demonstrated a flair for hyperbole as he welcomed revelers to the “Mt. Sinai of mastication.” He maintained a steady stream of carney banter, breaking character only to encourage donations to emergency food programs, after accepting a "check" for 100,000 Nathan's hot dogs made out to the Food Bank for New York City.

Musicians, trampolinists, dancing hot dog mascots, and even a marriage proposal distracted us from restlessly fixating on the giant countdown clock. Cheerleaders held our attention by firing T-shirt guns into the crowd, but the ESPN cameras that zoomed over our heads whipped up the most enthusiasm.


When Shea introduced the contenders, he enumerated the gluttony of their competitive eating careers—hard-boiled eggs, shoo-fly pie, oysters, cranberry jelly, Spam, jambalaya—ad nauseam. He flirted with the two female contestants, Sonya Thomas and Juliet Lee, and announced each competitor with exaggerated gusto. However, two men received the most attention: last year's victor, Joey Chestnut, and his main rival, former six-time winner Takeru "The Tsunami" Kobayashi. Chestnut possessed the champion "mustard belt," but Kobayashi looked like the true hot dogger, with his mustard-yellow and ketchup-red hairstyle.

The eaters engaged in various pre-gorge rituals. Crazy Legs Conti pulled on a pair of gloves and stretched his jaw, while Pete Davekos tied on a bandana sensei style and waited stoically. Most of the contestants appeared relatively fit, though none possessed the physique of Juris Shibayama, who flexed his body-built muscles. Kobayashi hugged most of the competitors. I wasn't prepared for what came next.


After Shea led the crowd in a countdown, Kobayashi tore through buns with ravenous efficiency and shoved hot dogs into his mouth. Others had red liquid streaming down their arms as they devoured buns dunked in juice. Some jerked their heads back, forcing the food down and fighting the gag reflex, but Chestnut's entire body twitched. Crazy Legs' face took on an unhealthy pallor and the veins in Chestnut's forehead throbbed menacingly. Only Kobayashi looked as if it weren't an entirely unpleasant experience. His face didn't betray any pain, only a determined concentration as he continued cramming hot dog after hot dog. Although I hadn't eaten anything all day, I started to feel queasy.

The contest clearly centered around Chestnut and Kobayashi. Shea shouted out their scores as first Chestnut, and then Kobayashi, took the lead. When the ten-minute competition ended, each had devoured 59 hot dogs. After a quick consultation, Shea declared a tie breaker: the first to eat five hot dogs would go home the winner. Both men ate with ferocious speed, but as Kobayashi pushed the last bit of bun into his mouth, Chestnut had already finished.

I had rooted for the Japanese Kobayashi, fascinated by his cool demeanor and charmed by his hair color. He accepted the second-place trophy graciously and when his translator asked him if he had anything to say, he thanked everyone in English for their love and support. Unfortunately, he also lifted up his shirt, flashing his distended belly. Shea presented Chestnut to us as an American hero and led the crowd in chants of "USA! USA!" Chestnut held his mustard belt aloft, clearly relishing his second victory over Kobayashi.

As the crowd dispersed, Adeet and I made our way to the boardwalk. We passed the abrasive barker at "Shoot the Freak" and stopped at Gregory & Paul's food stand for lunch. Adeet ordered a slice of pizza, and as I considered fried clams and knish, I knew I had only one choice.

I managed to eat half a hot dog, which I washed down with lemonade (no dunking). Maybe next Independence Day I'll eat a whole one, after I cheer on Kobayashi to reclaim his mustard belt. That is, if I can stomach it.

Nathan's Famous International Hot Dog Eating Contest
Coney Island, NY
photos and video by Adeet Deshmukh