William Gadsby Peet heads to Fulham's Octoberfest Pub to attempt its infamous 'Double Knuckle' food challenge
Having spent a large chunk of my student life watching Man vs Food – a meaty slice of TV genius where a portly American man named Adam Richman would travel across the US of A attempting insane food challenges while a crowd of only marginally less portly Americans chanted 'man versus food' at him – I have always rather fancied taking on a food challenge. With my desire to conquer an ungodly amount of cookery confessed, it will likely come as no surprise, dear reader, that I jumped at the opportunity to attempt the Octoberfest Pub in Fulham's 'Double Knuckle Challenge' when it boldly presented itself to my inbox at work. Alas, much like mutton chop sideburns or a full frontal invasion of Russia during the winter, the theory of such an endeavour proved far rosier than the reality.
My first clue that I had made a grave error of judgement came when the waitress – a lovely girl who, in a wonderful nod to London's multiculturalism, was a French vegetarian working in a Bavarian themed pub in one of England's poshest boroughs – informed my dining partner James and I exactly what the challenge consisted of. Unsurprisingly the main component is two giant pork knuckles from whence the challenge gets its name; what did come as a bit of a shock was the kilogram of fries, half a kilogram of potato salad (potato two ways I guess), giant tub of sauerkraut (of course) and, most damagingly in my opinion, two pint stein of beer (again, of course) that would be accompanying said knuckles.
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Still, I thought, a pork knuckle is mainly bone, and I love beer – this would be a walk in the park! One might have to cast the mind back to the 1960s, when Decca Recordings executive Mike Smith turned down the chance to sign The Beatles with the sentence, "We don't like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out", to find the last man to be proven so utterly wrong by what was to come. As you can see from the photos above, I made a really rather pathetic attempt at the challenge, straining every fibre of my being to finish just under half of the overall meal, before falling in to a veritable meat coma. When the aforementioned vegetarian waitress arrived to tell us our time was up, she found two broken and sweaty men strewn across the benches of her pub.
I should hastily add: everything that was served up on my wooden slab (they definitely don't make plates big enough to support this challenge) was scrumptious. The pork could have been carved off the bone with a spoon – succulent, juicy and melt-in-the-mouth soft; the chips were, well as good as French fries can be; the potato salad similarly surpassed itself in its potacity (not technically a word but still); and the sauerkraut was as good as one could hope for I.E. awful, but that's my own personal prejudice against tangy, vinegary cabbage pulp speaking up. Similarly, the giant stein of Pilsner I had to wash everything down with was a crisp golden testament to the German deserved reputation as the finest brewers of beer in Europe. The problem was most definitely not the food itself: much like a drowning man has no issue with the concept of a glass of water, my downfall wasn't the raw material but its unconquerable abundance.
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While James and I were convalescing from being well and truly knuckled, I had the chance to look around the rest of the pub, and very much liked what I saw. I have spent a fair amount of time in Germany, especially its beer halls, and the Octoberfest team have done a really good job of recreating the warm, friendly atmosphere of the Bavarian Beer Halls from which it takes its inspiration. The serving staff wear full traditional lederhosen and bustle merrily around a simplistic interior, with a series of wooden trestle tables making up the majority of seating – perfect for tapping fingers and steins upon to the beat of the pub's regular Oompa bands on Friday and Saturday nights. From the plates whizzing about to other tables I could see the kitchen whips up all the traditional German classics like schnitzel, currywurst, pretzels and every type of sausage under the sun in more reasonable (though by no means small) portions, and there's over 60 imported German beers available to try.
I left Fulham with my tail tucked firmly between my legs and a doggy bag that was heavier than most weights I lift at the gym, so, to the six gentlemen who have successfully completed this challenge: you have my undying respect and concern for your future health. Personally, I doubt I'll ever attempt another food challenge again, but I'll definitely be back to the Octoberfest Pub soon for a more restrained sample of Bavarian brilliance.
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