I Should Have Entered a Giant Pretzel Eating Contest
On soft pretzels and regret
My family spent spring break in Taos, New Mexico this year. At the ski resort, which is included in our annual ski passes, you can ski down to a place called The Bavarian Restaurant for food. The inside has a cozy, rustic, European ski lodge vibe, with a fire, wood walls and furniture, and German-looking decorations. They serve food like schnitzel, spätzle, and strudel, and draft beer is served in steins. If it’s sunny and warm outside, you can sit out on the patio and watch people ski while you drink a beer. To this Colorado girl, a beer on a ski patio on a sunny day is about as good as life gets!
On our last day of skiing, we had just ordered our food and found a table on the outdoor patio, when we heard the announcement about the giant pretzel eating contest. “Dad, you should do it!” my two daughters and I suggested. On the surface, my husband, who is a 6’2” man of mostly eastern European heritage, looks more like the giant-pretzel-eating type than me. But he had zero interest whatsoever. He was a solid no from the start. We encouraged the girls to do it, but apparently they take after their father in this regard. Zero interest. Then a thought occurred to me: maybe I should!
There are a few things you need to know:
The first is that I love German soft pretzels. Soft and buttery, with crunchy chunks of salt on the outside. I seek them out as my preferred snack at amusement parks and zoos. If I go to an Oktoberfest in the fall, the soft pretzels were definitely a big part of my motivation. I make them myself sometimes, usually on Superbowl Sunday or when the weather turns cold in October, using this recipe - baking soda plunge and all. And I’m discriminating about them. Annie’s pretzels, ubiquitous at malls and airports, are too sweet - I don’t eat them. The pretzels need to be hot and fresh and at least somewhat authentic.
The second thing you need to know is that the soft pretzels at The Bavarian are delicious. They pass my “good pretzel” test. I knew this because I had shared one with my family on a cold, snowy ski day earlier in the week.
Third, the soft pretzels at The Bavarian are huge. Each pretzel is about the size of a medium-sized dinner plate.
And finally, to win the contest, you had to be the first person to eat the entire pretzel and drink a 32-ounce stein of water without spilling it. (That is a huge stein, by the way, twice the size of the one I’m holding in the picture of myself above.)
My family encouraged me to go for it, and I went back and forth but decided no, I was excited about the lunch I had just ordered, and eating a giant pretzel would make me feel too full. And it would also be embarrassing to scarf down a giant pretzel while people watched me. Public humiliation was a possibility. I chickened out.
The girls and I walked over to watch the contest, while my husband guarded the table and drank his beer.
And then it happened. The woman running the contest specifically asked for women to join. By this point, most of the spots at the table were filled – and entirely men and boys. Maybe I should, after all!
I had to decide quickly. I would be on the verge of raising my hand, and then feel relief when I decided no, I’m not doing it. And then I would feel the pang of disappointment of missing out, and go right back to the verge of raising my hand. I was teetering back and forth on the edge of a decision when the last seat at the table was filled. By another man.
We watched the contest. No one was surprised by who won - a large, bearded man who looked like he was a few beers in but still had plenty of room in his belly. He chugged the stein of water first, which seemed like a smart strategy to us, the crowd of onlookers. After he won, my daughters and I got bored and went back to our table to eat our lunch.
They say that we regret the things we don’t do in life more than the mistakes. The chances not taken, the opportunities that pass us by. There was no way I would have won that contest, or even finished my pretzel and stein of water. Most of the participants didn’t, and it didn’t matter - the whole thing was very chill. The glory would have been for stepping up. For having a woman at that table. For role-modeling courage, fun, and spontaneity to my daughters. And for getting a free giant pretzel I could share with my family after the contest.
I should have done it.
I’m a clinical psychologist, co-host of Psychologists Off the Clock, and author of the books ACT for Burnout and ACT Daily Journal. You can find me online at drdebbiesorensen.com.
Next time you make yummy giant pretzels please drop some off over here. I am surprised Easan didn't enter that contest with you.
Having lived in Bavaria, Munich to be exact I am drooling with the thoughts of pretzels and real beer. If I could have had anything other than water to drink I would have jumped at the chance for a real pretzel!. The scene you described, from the food to the lodge and sitting outside with the sun and snow, it truly transported me back to the ski 🎿 slopes in The Alps! I guess you can tell I miss some of the good old days when I was a kid to young adult. (Can't or haven't found any of it in DC).