Rebels with the claws: In Reno, gutsy competitive eaters take on lobster
J. Freedom Du Lac
The Sacramento Bee
Apr. 12, 2005 12:00 AM
RENO, Nev. -- Richard and Carlene LeFevre are making lunch plans, which is not quite as simple as it sounds.
"What are you doing, hon?" Carlene says. "Giving yourself a surgery lesson?"
She giggles, but her husband doesn't budge.
Hunched over a table inside the Boomtown Casino and Hotel's buffet, he is inspecting a platter of boiled Maine lobster parts.
"I'm trying to visualize," he says while studying the fractured, fire-truck-red shells through wire-rim glasses that are about two inches too wide for his face.
Carlene scrunches her nose.
"I'm visualizing, too," she says. "And all I can visualize is that fishy green juice."
Could it be that the thought of gorging on gooey lobster guts is dampening one of the world's most astonishing appetites?
As if.
Having applied a fresh coat of lipstick, Carlene LeFevre now has her game face on.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she declares.
Good thing, that: The Boomtown Casino and Hotel's Lobster-Eating Challenge is about to begin, and LeFevre is among the favorites in the 12-minute Saturday afternoon race to see who can consume the most crustacean.
LeFevre, you see, is the grand dame of gluttony -- one of the top competitive eaters in the world.
Though the slender and elegant former Mary Kay Cosmetics saleswoman hardly looks the part, her stat sheet suggests otherwise: Last November, she consumed nearly 7 pounds of pozole in a single, 12-minute sitting to set an international ingestion record.
She also once ate 30 pieces of fried chicken, but who's counting? Besides the International Federation of Competitive Eating, anyway: The governing body for the face-stuffing set ranks her seventh in the world.
Oh, and her nebbish husband is ranked third, having Hoovered his way to all sorts of consumption records -- including those for watermelon (11.25 pounds in a quarter-hour) and SPAM (6 pounds, straight from the can, in 12 icky minutes).
"That guy?" an incredulous spectator shouts as his resume is recited before the lobster-eating event, where the prize purse is $4,500 (antacids not included). "He looks like somebody's leg!"
A 5-foot-6, 130-pound leg.
But, yes, a leg nonetheless.
Like, say, Spencer Thomas' massive tree trunk of a limb. Thomas, too, is going for lobster-gobbling glory at Boomtown. But unlike the LeFevres, Spencer Thomas sprawls, tipping the scales at 323 pounds.
He knows, however, that he's not the big dog at Boomtown. That distinction goes to Richard LeFevre.
"He's the master," Thomas says. "He's just a little bitty guy, but he can eat like nobody else. Where does it all go?"
In a past life, the 61-year-old LeFevre was a bean counter. Now, he's a bean inhaler: The former accountant, who lives with Carlene outside Las Vegas, is the reigning chili-eating champion, having guzzled a gallon and a half of the stuff in 10 minutes.
"I always knew I had the appetite, so I wanted to see where I stood," says LeFevre, who began eating competitively five years ago. "So did my wife. We wanted to see how we stacked up."
Pretty well, as it turned out. The couple's eating exploits have landed them on "The Tonight Show," among other TV programs.
While their talents might have been perfect for the carnival sideshow in an earlier era, they're now at the center of a growing movement: The International Federation of Competitive Eating has about 100 events scheduled in the United States this year -- including Nathan's Famous Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest, which ESPN will broadcast live.
At least three other eating competitions will be aired on U.S. television this year, says the federation's chief, George Shea.
"It's really grown," he says, noting that there were just 25 Federation events four years ago.
And of course there's been an explosion, as competitive eating meets at the intersection of food and competition -- two of America's favorite obsessions.
"There's a fascination with eating that touches a nerve with people," Shea says. "If we did the exact same thing with pogo-sticking, it wouldn't work. People love food. And they may think this is going to be some adolescent blueberry pie-eating contest -- but they see it's a big spectacle with a real 'wow' factor."
By this, Shea means skinny people stuffing themselves silly and wholly unskinny people doing the same.
People like Eric Booker, the world's fourth-ranked eater, who weighs 420 pounds -- more than the top three eaters combined.
Booker, who blew off Boomtown, holds the record for raw Maui onions: 8.5 ounces in a minute.
And yes, onions have their own event -- as do butter, pickled beef tongues, cow brains and mayonnaise.
Which makes us wonder: Why is Isaiah Johnson hoping to make a career out of competitive eating after he graduates this year from California State University, Sacramento, with an international politics degree?
Does he like fruitcake, reindeer sausage and turducken that much?
"I have to find my niche first," the 22-year-old from Elk Grove says. "Some people are better at some events than others. But I really want to see how I can do. I mean, who wouldn't want to get paid for eating?"
So far, Johnson has yet to finish in the money at an event. He'll try again April 23 at a deep-fried asparagus competition in Stockton, Calif.
But he'd better hope Richard LeFevre doesn't show up.
As the lobster competition begins, LeFevre stands over his tray, rocking back and forth as he grabs, twists, stuffs, chews and swallows in rhythm. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and bits of lobster meat all over his face. He is focused to the point that he doesn't flinch when another competitor throws up -- grounds for immediate disqualification. (Aside from a bruised ego, the embarrassed eater is OK.)
By the time the contest is finished and officials have weighed the leftover lobster shrapnel, LeFevre has consumed 5.75 pounds of tails and claws. The runner-up is a full pound off his pace, Carlene even more so.
For his efforts, LeFevre is given $2,000 in cash.
So how do he and his wife plan to celebrate the win?
"Oh," he says, "we'll go out and have a nice dinner, of course."