What is it about that curious foodstuff, the hot dog? We don't really care what the actual meat in it is. We dismiss the copious sodium and nitrate content within them. We don't even care about the rat hair urban hot dog legend. We just know they taste good and when you're young and poor, they're cheap eats.
When I first moved to New York in the late 90s, I remember the hot dogs from the street vendors cost a buck. Yeah, the bun had the consistency of wet wallpaper and the hot dog was nearly petrified from stewing in that oily watery grave all day, but the generous slathering of mustard always redeemed it somehow. There's something cool about walking and consuming a self contained meal. Multi-tasking in any form is always a good thing.
It wasn't long before the cost of the street-vendor hot dog went up. When I interrogated one vendor why the hot dog I had just paid a buck for was now $1.25, he reared up and replied, "It's a Sabrett!" For you non-East coasters, the Sabrett is the Oscar Meyer of Manhattan. I even think it's kosher which FYI, means it's lower in calories and leaner. So I'd ante up the extra coin for the quality of the Sabrett's fine mix of smoked meats in a casing.
These days, you have to part with nearly two dollars for a Sabrett. To the vendors credit, they will give you all the mustard, ketchup, onions and relish you want which not only represents a full meal but should cover a portion of your food group daily allowance.
Gray's Papaya, a mainstay in Manhattan, also does a nice dog at a reasonable price. Alas, you have to walk into an actual location (my favorite is at 72nd & Broadway on the West side) to purchase said sausage so you're already getting hit with a little extra surcharge to cover the overhead.
While street vendors are the grass root purveyors of the hot dog, the best place to have a dog--a real dog experience--has to be at the ball park. It just tastes better to have a fatted Polish dog on a seeded bun with thick brown mustard washed down with a cold beer while sitting in the stands on a balmy summer day and yelling at the Umpire "You SUCK!" You'll pay six bucks for that dog and it'll be worth every penny. The best I ever had was in the old Candlestick Park in San Francisco. It was a tubular meat epiphany.
What's your favorite?
2 comments:
I just can't eat a hot dog, Chicken. The Judge I work under once told me that there are two things in life you don't want to see: one is the lawmaking process and the other is the sausage making process! There are certain foods I just cannot bring myself to eat, and a hot dog is one of them. Number two on the list is a frog's leg.
Murphy's in Chicago. The dogs are grilled (and the footlongs are slashed for more surface area and better crisping), and the bun is stuffed with cucumber, pickle spear, tomato, mustard, hot peppers, bright green relish and the all important celery salt.
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