Now try the twins' burger . . . on us

It was a Herald offer too good to miss (see page 32). And a family birthday gave us the perfect excuse.

"He's starving himself," I tell my wife, picking up a piece of toast with one miserable bite missing out of it.

"Don't be silly," she says.

"I'm telling you," I say to her, "he's starving himself for that bloody Jedward Burger."

"What time are we going?" asks the birthday apparition, suddenly appearing and scaring me badly.

"Look at him," I say in a voice that's a little too high for the occasion. "When was the last time you ate properly?"

I prod him with my finger.

We duly troop to the car and head to TGI Friday's in Blanchardstown. "Are we nearly there yet?" asks Sammy. "I'm starving."

I try to glare at my wife but miss and get a taxi driver, who glares back better.

I've never been to TGI Friday's. It's very American. The waiters are very enthusiastic.

"He hasn't eaten in six days," I whisper hoarsely to the waiter, pointing discreetly toward Sammy. We order a selection of starters, delicious deep-fried cheesy things with dips, and buffalo wings.

When the Jedward Burger comes it's as big as Sammy's head -a slab of meat topped with cheese, bacon and a mound of onion rings.

Sammy (below) attacks it. "He'll never finish it," I say, not believing myself.

He sets to work. I mop his brow like I've seen them do in American eating contests. The Jedward doesn't stand a chance.

"How was it?" I ask. "Mmmphhh-bt," he says, raising two thumbs.

The waiters all come out. "They've never seen someone finish one," I say nudging Sammy, but they're here to sing happy birthday.

They make him stand on a chair. He looks like a hero. The whole restaurant claps. "Well done," I say, meaning it.