These are the only addresses where a result of mine counts, because these are the only ones that weigh the dish in front of the room and write the number down.
Krause's Counter, Toledo — 07:12, before the first pot of coffee. Eleven seats, four of them reserved on attempt days.
The share of all comers who have ever cleared that house's challenge, counted by the house, not by me. Hollis sits at a third because the skillet is small and the room is kind. Pike & Anchor sits at 2.3% because six pies is six pies.
The Maumee Tray, 6 lb 2 oz, 32 minutes. Eleven stools, no booths, and the scale lives on the pass where everyone can see it. Thirty-eight people have cleared it since 2009 and all thirty-eight are written on the wall behind the register.
Six eighteen-inch pies in forty-five minutes, which is the hardest thing on this map and the only challenge that has beaten me without ever being close. Twelve clears in nineteen years, none since 2021.
Nine eggs, hash and three rashers, thirty minutes, and the plate has to be clean rather than empty. Easiest pass rate on the circuit and the only one where the last ninety seconds are genuinely unpleasant.
Eight pounds of dairy in thirty minutes. It has beaten me twice, in March and again in August, and the second time I was further off than the first. Cold is the whole problem and there is no technique for cold.
A rack and a half with cornbread and slaw, ninety minutes, which is generous enough that the challenge is boredom rather than volume. Sixty-one clears, and Dell will tell you about every one of them if you let him.
The same tray, twenty-nine minutes and forty-one seconds apart. The second weigh-in is the only photograph that matters.
Krause's Counter, Toledo, 19 April 2026. Photographs taken by the kitchen on the house camera, which is how every result on this site is evidenced.
Four things, in this order. Nothing is added on a handshake and nothing is added the same week.
A legal-for-trade scale with a current sticker, on the pass, visible from the room. No scale, no entry, and this is where most enquiries stop.
On the menu, on the wall, or on a card that goes to the table. A limit that moves on the night is not a limit and the attempt does not count.
Every attempt, won or lost, with a date and a name. The pass rate on the map above comes out of those books and nowhere else.
At least one clear by somebody who is not a visiting eater. A challenge nobody from the town has ever beaten is a prop, and I will not be the first name on it.
If you run a challenge in Ohio, Michigan or Indiana and you keep a book, send the build sheet and the limit. I answer every one, usually within four days, and about one in twelve becomes a date.