The Hungry Barbarian

My cousin John decided to chime in late in the game:

Well here we go! 

I feel that since the Barbarian is now off and running that it’s time for me to chime in. While I’m still trying to figure out why he is doing this, I sit back for a moment and realize why not.  Jobless, homeless and in need of attention; a better time there will not be. 

A few things come to mind when thinking of the Barbarian and his love for food. Being an older cousin to the Barbarian I can say I’ve seen this love grow from his earliest stages of development. 

I participated in many challenges and for many years stood side by side with the Barbarian; causing damage to organs we will most likely need in the future. I would just like to list a few of our outings. There was the Mc Donald’s nugget eating contest where we ate a combined 120+ nuggets, Ozzie dogs at Yankee Stadium (Bun, dog, onions, chili, cheese wiz, potato crisps and mustard). Going toe to toe at a Brazilian Steakhouse in Montreal which resembled the steak eating scene from The Great Outdoors only with John Candy eating another human being. 

All this reminds me of a sign that my mother used to have posted in my kitchen as a child.  It was a picture of a pig with the saying: Eat to live, don’t live to eat. There is no doubt that the Barbarian lived his life by following the latter half of that saying but it seems the tables have finally turned.

Looking back on all these events I say to myself there is no way he could last the week. But I remember a time in the recent past when the Barbarian’s gallbladder finally threw in the towel after years of abuse. Because of this the Barbarian was forced to a limited diet for many weeks and this gives me some added hope for his new adventure. I do have to add that I’m a little disappointed that the Barbarian found a friend in a reptilian corpse. 

Godspeed Barbarian, Godspeed.

My friend Katrina decided to chip in from Texas:

I fully believe that it is important to support a friend’s endeavor, no matter how idiotic it may be. However, there are two aspects of this particular fete that will be difficult for the Barbarian to overcome: lack of food and boredom.

This is the man whose entire life revolves around food, and more specifically meat. In my years of knowing the Barbarian, we have never had a conversation that did not involve some aspect of food. It is the foundation of our relationship. In fact, my college experience began and ended with the Barbarian and his love of food.

The two of us met on the first day of classes our freshman year in a class entitled “Food Science.” While it did not have nearly as much to do with consumption as we had hoped, it marked the beginning of a relationship that would revolve around food.

Four years later, my college career ended sharing a cottage with six others on a week-long trip to Cape Cod. While everyone else was still wondering how far away the beach was, the Barbarian instead took it upon himself to fill the refrigerator with more meat than the six of us could consume. It was a week of grilling, beer, whiffle ball, and occasionally a video game on a rainy day, four activities that have become the quintessential day in the life of the Barbarian. This is precisely why I feel it is unlikely he will make it a whole week living off the land, even if it is in the Hamptons.

And while the Barbarian worships food, in my years of knowing him, the first and only time I have heard him even mention seafood was only three weeks ago. It was not concerning the skills needed to catch fish or even the types of marine life he may encounter on his adventure, rather it was to recommend the tasting menu at a new Sushi restaurant. Eating crab and snapper for 7 days is not his idea of a good time.

The lack of food is only one facet of the hardships encountered while living off the land, and will obviously be difficult for the Barbarian. However, for someone who is admittedly “distracted by pieces of tinfoil,” a week alone with his thoughts will also be the root of his demise. Can one of the most social people I know get through a week alone? Can he go an entire week without whiffle ball or Frisbee? Will his attempts at harpooning a squirrel be enough to overcome his boredom? Doubtful.

As someone who remembers the aftermath of the White Castle slider eating contest of 2006, I hope this endeavor ends without serious incident. If the Barbarian can find food and overcome his boredom, he stands a chance at completing the task, and I truly hope he does.

Mostly so he doesn’t feel the need to try again.

Here’s a little something from my friend Zach:

I really appreciate all the faith that everyone has in the Barbarian. I think that it shows a lot of faith, kindness, and love.

Unfortunately, I don’t crap sunshine like the rest of you and I’m not pulling punches on this one.

I have great faith in the Barbarian in many different things; whiffle ball, reading and writing, eating, entertaining (he throws great parties), cooking, etc. The list is long, but survival instincts are not on the list. I’m not running this pool because I think he’s going to win.

With that said, I do think that he will make a very good showing, he will struggle and overcome some obstacles, he will be hungry but he will find food, but at some point he is going to crack.

Now when I say “he is going to crack” I say it with no judgment whatsoever, in fact the time frame that I picked for him to crack was about half a day after I think I would lose my mind and run screaming into a tree and end the misery.

I think that the Barbarian has heart and dedication, he has a zest for adventure, and he is stubborn as a mule- four qualities that will serve him well. He also however has an overactive imagination that will see mountain lions and Bigfoot in the night, a social nature that will lead him to talk to trees and become frustrated when they are rude enough to ignore him, and he has a desire for food and the pleasures of life.

I think that it will be a well fought, honest battle, but mother earth tends to win.

So, to the Barbarian; I wish you the best of luck, stay safe, blog every night, and check your dignity at the door….As for the rest of you revelers I’m putting my money on day 4 at about 3am.

Cheers

Jeff is a former colleague of mine. I think he’s trying to forget that part of his life:

I, perhaps, know the Hungry Barbarian in a capacity not many do: I shared on office with him for a few years. Moreover, I’ve worked with the guy and bared witness to hundreds of gastronomic “incidents.” There was my virgin visit to the Shake Shack where I watched him punish two “Shack Stacks,” a burger consisting of two patties, a deep-fried Portobello mushroom and what can only be described as a pipe-bomb of cheese. If that weren’t enough, he then gazed upon a bratwurst with the works lovingly before sending it down the shoot. It was the culinary equivalent to the Persian messenger getting kicked into the pit by King Leonidas in the movie 300.

Then there was the time HungBar went to Per Se and had the tasting menu. It was as if he gave birth that day.

But none of these experiences – and there were plenty of others – can hold a candle to the WhiteCastle slider eating contest of 2006. In those days we worked with a gent androgynously known simply as Randy. Randy is a one-of-a-kinder, gifted with charm and girth. He is well over 280 pounds…a former D-1 offensive lineman who once ate the entire McDonald’s sandwich menu…twice in one sitting.

Needless to say there was a lot of smack-talking between Randy and HungBar centered upon whose digestive track was more proficient. It was decided the only way to settle the debate was an eat-off. But the better question is what Mid-Town Manhattan delicacy would serve as the main event. We knew the item had to have several key characteristics: plentiful, cheap and clearly countable.

Hot dogs? Too Coney Island. Cheesesteaks? Cost prohibitive knowing these are two pro’s going at it. The ONLY way to settle this colon-cleansing contest was the WhiteCastle Slider, available in the 30-pack “CraveCase.” HungBar, being the recent college grad and lowest on the totem pole (lower than the guy who cleans the men’s room which in my opinion contributed a service much greater than anything else HungBar did here), purchased two CraveCases on our dime. I recall that there was torrential downpour but HungBar was not to be denied his shot at immortality…or mortality due to cardiac arrest but I’m no doctor.

Upon his return with the sliders, in all their processed glory, they were evenly split. The two competitors went their separate ways and began to feast: first one to 30 or the contestant who eats the most would get crowned. What seemed like a reasonable operation turned out to be a Buckneresque error in judgment on the part of HungBar.

After the first dozen sliders, I could seen HungBar starting to fade. He was being demorialized by Randy who from the other office could be heard shouting, “Number 18 down the hatch!” “I’m on 22 Barbarian…who’s you’re Daddy??!!!”

But HungBar hung tough. He continued to power-down as many sliders as could possibly be fit into the human being’s intestinal track. When it was all over, HungBar stood in defeat. Dejected, HungBar made his way to the men’s room and released what one would expect after 23+ sliders: grease-filled tears that smelled of onions.

But Randy had this familiarly coy look in his face. I’ve known him a long time so I recognized the look. Indeed, he opened his desk drawer where I gazed upon…you guessed it…about 20 un-eaten WhiteCastle Sliders. Well played, my Machiavellian, moz-eating friend.

As for Barbarian, we waited until the end of the day before telling him of the ruse. After learning that he was victimized, HungBar had a look of both pride and prejudice.

I don’t think HungBar ever quite recovered, physically and emotionally. It wasn’t too long thereafter that he had to have his gallbladder surgically removed. He also started to sweat a grayish hue. Whenever he passes a WhiteCastle, he starts to shiver uncontrollably.

Why I am sharing this with people I do not know? Because HungBar is a true champion in the art of eating, which will be his undoing. The man lacks the capacity to think practically when eating is at stake. I give him a day and a half before he’s eating Grandma’s meatballs out of his grubby, oyster smelling hands.

This is from my best friend and former roommate Mary:

The Barbarian (new unemployed and already incredibly bored) asked that I submit my thoughts as he prepares for the adventure.

When the Barbarian first ran this idea past me, I initially had issues with the endeavor taking place in the Hamptons. “The Hamptons” does not exactly conjure up images of people “roughing it” and the Barbarian’s home is no exception. After some thought, however, I realized that for a Guinea from the Bronx life without the “YES network,” running water, and chicken cutlets would be fairly traumatic.

The outcome of this is hotly debated, and wildly uncertain. Unfortunately, his past actions give us little to go on.

The Barbarian’s few endeavors into the wild have typically ended miserably. There was a day long fishing trip that resulted in zero fish, the Barbarian getting sick, and the car being hijacked. On another occasion in the woods of Michigan, the Barbarian contracted poison ivy so severe that he needed steroids…because he chased a frog into the woods. And then there’s always his cousin’s damn goat, which always ends in a fist fight between the two whenever they meet.

If the Barbarian can’t deal with a goat for a few hours, how can he survive in the wild for one week?

As the Barbarian’s roommate and good friend, I can attest to the lengths he will go for food, of any quality. I’ve been dragged to the Boulevard Diner at 3 AM for a bacon and cheese omelet, go on a dumpling tour in Chinatown in the middle of a snowstorm, enjoy Joe’s Pizza at 5 AM, and have been forced to watch him eat hot jalapeno cornmeal pancakes on a Sunday morning after drinking all night. I’ve seen him eat so much that people around him become physically sick.

Many have questioned if he can last an entire week without real food. I would venture that not only can he survive without real food, he’ll enjoy it. Sure, he might finish this a few pounds lighter, but he’ll genuinely enjoy gathering and preparing his own food. I’ve seen him eat most anything, and this week will surely be no exception.

The greatest threat to the Barbarian is not food, or willpower, but rather himself. The Barbarian will likely do something so outrageous, and stupid (i.e. Chris McCandless) that he’ll get himself into trouble and be forced to quit. If he can keep out of his own way (which has always been a challenge) he’ll make it.

This is the first in a series of posts from friends and family giving their thoughts on this social experiment.  I welcome anyone else who wants to write something.  

Dan has been my best friend since second grade and decided to write on my qualifications for success:   

Sorry ladies, and you gents who may be upset by the headline of this blog (Zach), but it’s true.

I have been chosen by the barbarian himself to explain how incredibly unqualified this idiot is to attempt to survive a week outside of a house filled with such incredible amounts of food and accoutrement that Donald Trump would gladly retire there.

I have seen the barbarian play Super Smash Bros for N64 for 15 hours straight. I have seen him play countless hours of wiffle ball, tirelessly throwing pitch after pitch. I have seen him sit and read like a champ. He was a mean kickball player as a kid too. Where am I going with this? Well, my friends, these are just a mere few out of a wealth of qualifications possessed by our dear barbarian.

I’ve seen him fish - he hooked my mother in the nose. The most exercise I’ve seen him get recently was when he tore apart a Cornish hen at dinner the other night. We all know he wears glasses - aka his eyesight is less than stellar, good thing sight isn’t something that will make or break you in the wild. He isn’t nimble.

However! I am not able to bet against this man. As unqualified as he is, he has two things going for him. First, he isn’t dumb. Actually, he is one of the most logical weird persons I’ve ever known. His ability to analyze a situation and develop the best course of action in attaining/achieving the goal is a definite strong suit for the barbarian. He will find creative rule appeasing ways to survive.

It is going to get ugly.

He may eat an earthworm or two when he gets really desperate, but that is barring he actually becomes really desperate. With the legal tools he has to use, he definitely has the ability to lock up food and resources for the week on the first day alone! Shellfish are going to be a staple of his diet - thank god he will be surrounded by water. The second reason that I can’t bet against him is the fact that I have never seen the barbarian quit. True to form he will scratch, claw, bite, maim without prejudice, attack, and defend, literally, until he overcome!

His obstacle at the moment is a 7 day test of will, survival, heart, and soul. I pity the fool who dares test these aspects of our barbarians life.

He will survive, and possibly thrive sans paprika and time, ribs and chops, etc. etc. He will last the duration of the challenge, uglier, slower, and way fancier, than that pansy expert surrounded by all his professional staffers.

I repeat, Bear Grylls is a pansy.