Size Matters

Many moons ago, when I was younger (as opposed to ‘many moons ago when I was older’?) a small group of friends set out on a quest: find large cheeseburgers and eat them. It began innocently enough with a set of Hardee’s Monster Burgers and ended with a four-pound Grandma Max Burger. At the time, we thought we’d seen it all. How sheltered we were.

Some time later, I’m not exactly sure when, I discovered Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub. Not to be confused with that Denny’s, this perfectly quaint restaurant, located in beautiful central Pennsylvania in the wonderful town of Clearfield, is known the world over for big hamburgers.

Really big hamburgers.

How big? Well, I’m glad you asked. For normal, regular, everyday stomachs, they serve a half-pounder. Already, here at the bottom rung of the ladder, they have exceeded anything ever labeled “big” at your average fast-food chain. Next up is a full one-pound burger (and we’re talking about the weight of the meat: not the entire sandwich). Still too wimpy for you? Don’t worry, there’s the two pound Pub Challenger. “Pshaw,” you say? Okay, how does the three pound Pub Super Challenger sound?

I know, I know. There are thousands of restaurants that serve burgers this big. There has to be something worse than this.

There is.

Enter Ye Olde 96er: the Six Pound Grand Challenger. If you’re up for it, you have three hours to go from a giant stack o’ meat to the clean plate club. If successful, you receive a T-shirt, an official certificate, entry into their Hall of Fame, and—best of all—you don’t have to pony up $36 for the burger. Just remember to give them twenty-four hours notice before ordering.

But it doesn’t end there. Of course not! As we learned last week, we humans are not capable of being satisfied with any significant achievement. We must constantly exceed or die, apparently. So what’s after the six pound burger? Seven? Eight? Nine pounds?

How about fifteen pounds:

Here you see Brad Sciullo. Here you see Brad in the proverbial “before” state. Remember, that’s fifteen pounds of meat. The entire sandwich is just over twenty pounds. It’s hard to imagine five pounds of bun, cheese, and condiments.

Here you see Brad in the proverbial “after” state. He had five hours to eat it to meet the challenge. He did it with twenty-one minutes to spare. He ate a twenty pounds of food in one sitting. The only explanation is that he is a robot. That’s how I sleep at nights.

Well, I hope you enjoyed your tour of really big bur… riiiiiiing. Hold on, that’s my phone. Hello? … Speaking! … What? It’s not the twenty pound cheeseburger? … You’re kidding, right? … You’re not? … Okay, I’ll tell them.

Me again. I guess that’s not the biggest burger they make. Apparently if you have $179.95 you can buy a burger with a fifty pound patty. FIFTY POUNDS. I can’t imagine making a burger bigger than that. So until next time, this is Char… riiiiiing. Sorry. Hang on a sec. Hello? … What? … You can’t be serious! … Yes, yes. I’ll tell them.

Me again. All right, if you have $379.95 and can give seventy-two hours’ notice, apparently they will cook you up a ONE HUNDRED POUND hamburger patty:

I’d say, “Call Guinness,” but someone already has. It’s official: this is the world’s largest commercially available burger on the planet.

So, who wants to meet me in Clearfield, Pennsylvania this weekend?