Source

The 24th annual pancake-eating contest at Pete’s Grille kicks off on Nov. 20 at 7 a.m. for an entrance fee of $20. As tradition dictates, it will be held the Friday before Thanksgiving.

College coeds, restaurant regulars, and locals—many with cheering sections—are among the hopefuls.

One cautionary tale: Pros need not apply.

“We have people sign a disclaimer stating that they’re not professional eaters,” explains Pete’s owner Dave Stahl. “And if it’s discovered, you’ll be disqualified or forfeit the prize.”

Last year, a professional eater in the women’s division bellied up to the pancake bar when her cover was blown.

“Halfway through the contest, the guys were on their ninth pancakes and the women were on four or five and this woman was on her 17th, with no signs of slowing down,” recalls Stahl. “During the contest, we Googled her name and it turns out she’s all over the country doing eating competitions.” (She ceased and desisted without a fuss.)

During the hour-long contest, in which soda, juice, and water are permitted, mere mortals consume anywhere between several pancakes and 13, as was the case with the men’s division hot-cake victor last year. The record for the men’s division stands at 18 and the women’s at 12. (Of note: Stahl says that winners tend to skip the syrup.)

“Some people come in knowing that there’s not a chance they’re going to win,” says Stahl. “But they just want to be a part of the event, they want to be part of something iconic for Baltimore. For others, they want to win.”

The winner from each division takes home a cash award of $500. And competitors that break the record eat for free for as long as they hold the title.

“Our all-time record holders don’t even live in the U.S. anymore,” says Stahl, laughing. “So right now, I’m not feeding anyone three times a day.”

Source

Participation in this annual Pete’s Grille event is not for the weak of stomach, as each of the 20 or so place settings come with a complimentary plastic bag. (Need I say more?)

With Pete’s celebrating its 23rd year, we found it appropriate timing to test the limits of my 23-year-old boyfriend, who, according to a bartender from Mama’s on the Half Shell, has a “legendary appetite.” 

Every five seats were divided into “teams,” complete with their own judges, who doubled as servers—loudly announcing when each participant was ready for more, and a new plate of steaming short stacks would quickly hit the counter. 

Our team’s spunky judge, Mike, asked Justin, an athletic Johns Hopkins senior, why he was sporting a neon, reflective waist band when he sat down next to EJ. His response was along the lines of “so that we don’t get hit by cars when running.” I assumed he was part of Hopkins’ winter track team—as he changed from sweat pants to shorts and an Army T-shirt, as if he was ready for the starting pistol sound of a “true” race.

At 7:09 a.m., it all began—from an impressive front-runner, who was disqualified after eating something like 18 flapjacks in 20 minutes (turns out, she was a professional competitive eater), to a few drop outs, and then the unfortunate few who couldn’t “hold their own.” (A nice euphemism for tossing their cookies—or should I say cakes.) The energy in the room was exciting, suspenseful, and yes, a little nauseating—even from the sidelines. 

Of course, some strategy came into play, as most contestants stood the entire time, some jumped in place, and others, like EJ, dipped pancakes into water before consuming them, pictured.

For the first time ever, Pete’s Grille tweaked its rules to allow for unfinished pancakes to count. The one-hour race literally came down to the last bites competitors could force feed themselves. 

Alas, the iron-stomach reputation, mental focus, and even the lucky T-shirt weren’t enough for EJ. When the 10-second countdown began, he and his track-star neighbor—in a tie the entire hour—were only one pancake behind the first-place competitor on the other end of the bar. They each tackled one more, reaching a solid 12, but the other pulled through with a few last fistfuls to the mouth—beating them by a hair at 12.5 pancakes. 

The physical and emotional pains set in, and the winner was announced. EJ and Justin tied for second, and the bar began to clear out. I grabbed a pancake to go, rolling it up and eating with my hands—the basic strategy for all three finalists. Never in my wildest dreams (or nightmares) could I imagine consuming what even the earliest quitters did. Pete’s Grille’s pancakes are fluffy, buttery, and oh so dense. 

In the end, the $500 prize was awarded to Mr. 12.5, but if you ask me, anyone that had it in them to even participate in that showdown takes the cake.

Source

If you’re optimistic about the answer, the 23rd annual pancake-eating contest at Pete’s Grille might be the culinary competition for you.

That being said, experts need not apply—the amateurs-only competition will be held at the Waverly restaurant on Friday, Nov. 21 at 7 a.m.

Pete’s contest includes a division for both men and women, and winners will receive a $500 cash prize. As an additional incentive, participants who break the all-time record—18 pancakes for men and 12 pancakes for women—eat at Pete’s for free for as long as they hold the title.

According to Pete’s Grille owner Dave Stahl, previous winners include neighborhood locals, Johns Hopkins students, and restaurant regulars eager to come back each year to defend their title.

Stahl is also quick to point out that it’s important to never underestimate the underdogs.

“It’s always the really skinny, fit, trim, guys that end up making it until the end,” says Stahl. “Everyone’s packing pancakes away for the first 30 minutes, but by the last 15 minutes there’s usually only two or three still going.”

While sitting on the sidelines, Stahl has become an astute observer of the various pancake-eating techniques that participants have used through the years.

“I’ve seen everything you can possibly think of,” he says. “Most people roll the pancake up like a cigar and dip it in water.”

Interested participants can sign up at the restaurant through Nov. 17 from 7 a.m.-1 p.m. Participation is $20. 

Source