good friday and the amazing joey chestnut

Good Friday is otherwise known as the most boring day of the year. It's on par with Christmas as an epic public holiday in which basically nothing is open, however has none of the accompanying fanfare. My Grandmother Joma, according to legend, used to hate Good Friday and spent the entire day in bed. There was some suggestion that this was likely due to being hungover, but regardless, it's a great tradition and one I have endeavoured to keep alive. This year my only regret has been not renting the entire first season of Jersey Shore - I've heard naught but good things.

The other good thing about Good Friday is hot cross buns. As kids, we were made to give up lollies and chocolate for lent. I'm not sure I ever actually succeeded at doing this, rather became more canny at thieving money from mum's swimming bag and going for secret walks down to the milk bar. Regardless, there was some consolation in eating copious amounts of hot cross buns come Good Friday. Again, I'm managed to keep the tradition alive, and have found much consolation in the form of a bucket load of the mini versions. Read: I feel ill.

Unfortunately, I didn't set up a time lapse camera to depict the eating of buns for this here blog - what compelling viewing that might have been. In lieu of, I've googled 'gorging on hot cross buns' and to see if trusty friend 'the internet' can assist. 'Gorging' it would appear was a poor choice of word, because my friend 'the internet' threw up this non-bun related pic of joey chestnut, headlined 'American triumphs in eating battle'. Nod to you Mr Chestnut for triumphed you have - 66 hotdogs in 12 minutes.

Kitty x