At least since the time of Lucullus, people have made the distinction between gourmets and gourmands. The gourmet devotes him or herself to the discriminate enjoyment of food and wine and the gourmand, less to be admired, eats in abundance, often without very much concern for discrimination. When it comes to gourmands, I have three nominees who might hold the title of the world's "biggest eaters".

Candiate 1: Both before and after he was prime minister of England, Lord Henry Palmerston had a reputation for being far more devoted to the quantity of what he ate rather than its quality. As a young man, for example, Palmerston once astonished his hosts, the Duke and Duchess of Bridgewater, by eating sixteen whole herrings, eight veal kidneys, almost half a kilo of bacon, eight eggs and twenty-two slices of toast for breakfast. On another occasion, when dining at the home of Prime Minister William Gladstone, one of the guests present later wrote that "Palmerston outdid himself today. He managed to consume three whole pheasants, an entire small smoked ham, ten plump lamb chops, and two of the most extraordinarily thick slices of roast beef I have ever seen".

In 1865, near the end of his second term as Prime Minister of England, the London Times described Lord Henry Palmerston as "a man more in tune with the needs of his stomach than the needs of the nation". The newspaper was moved to make this observation after a guest at the Prime Minister's home informed them that on the previous evening Palmerston had consumed "two plates of turtle soup; three generous portions of goose liver pate; several whole trout that were served with oyster sauce; four very greasy lamb chops; a large plate of roast mutton; and the hardest, toughest slice of ham that ever sat on the table of a nobleman. This too disappeared, just in time for him to answer the inquiry of his butler `Pheasant or partridge, my lord?', to which he instantly replied `Pheasant', thus completing his eleventh dish of meat at that single meal". The prime minister was then 81 years old and in thriving health.

Candidate 2: The famous 19th century bon-vivant, the Duke of Luynes ate so much that he had to cut a half-moon out of the edge of his dining room table in order to fit his prodigious stomach. Despite his ability to pack away vast amounts of food, the Duke thought of himself as an ascetic because "there are times that I will not eat even though I am hungry". Although excessively fond of oysters, he restricted himself to four dozen at a time, believing that beyond that it became impossible to fully apreciate their flavor". The Duke did not always restrain himself, and when he entertained Edward Goncourt he was seen to consume "a mere 36 oysters, two large Mediterranean lobsters, two whole sole that had been stuffed with shrimp, and a more than generous fillet mignon that was served with whole roast truffles". When his servant asked why he had not had any of the tomato soup, the Duke responded by saying that he "simply had not been all that hungry".

Candidate 3: When novelist Henry Fielding created the character of Tom Jones, he set a permanent model for any male who aspired to be "an outrageous lover of food, of wine and of women, although not necessarily in that order". On one occasion, Jones found himself at a country inn. Seated opposite him was an extremely attractive lady who had dedicated herself to seducing him. Jones, alas, had not eaten for the previous twenty- four hours, and chose to turn his attentions instead to the meal at hand.

In addition to "three pounds of the flesh that had formerly belonged to an ox", Jones consumed 12 oysters, a salmon trout in aspic, a bowl of clam broth, an ox tongue in Madeira wine sauce, half a marinated leg of venison, the best part of a ham that had been glazed with berries, a salad of chicken and artichokes, a raspberry cream and a vanilla-raisin pudding. To wash all of this down, the young man consumed two bottles of white wine, a bottle of apple brandy, a bottle of red wine, three pints of ale, a bottle of champagne and several glasses of brandy. What is most amazing about all of this is that after all that he had consumed "Jones became suddenly aware of his fair companion and no sooner was his dinner ended than he turned his attention from the arts of the table to those of love". Those who have read Fielding's novel or seen Tony Richardson's film version know that no meal has ever been represented with such great sensuality.

© Daniel Rogov