By Larry Sheingold
This isn’t about finding America’s best hot dog. There isn’t one. Any more than we have a best artist or athlete. But like art, hot dog houses can be guideposts to our culture. Our national identity has a lot of parts – from literature and architecture to personalities and politicians. But to know us, you also need to know our wieneries.
The fixins may vary from region to region. You may eat your franks as street food in New York, at a counter in Georgia or sitting at a sun-soaked table behind Pinks in L.A. But if you’re dining at an old time dog joint, there is commonality – meals made with pride for generations, served by folks who enjoy their jobs and their customers and who appreciate the tradition they represent.
Here are some of the places I’ve visited around the country – some of the independent, one-of-a-kind stands that say a lot about us all.
CHICAGO – 175 years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville studied our culture and our pursuit of equality. Had he eaten at Superdawgs in Chicago, he might have truly understood social leveling.
Rich, poor, young and old have dined at Maurie and Flaurie Berman’s drive-in since 1948. The roof has two 12-foot tall wiener statues. The counter and carhops deliver “secret recipe” pure beef Chicago dogs with neon green relish and sport peppers. It’s a satisfying, steamed, sweet-tasting dog served in a box with a big handful of fries.
PITTSBURGH – Two states east, near the University of Pittsburgh, is the Original Hot Dog Shop, known locally as the Dirty O. No Chicago dogs here. This is hardcore urban Pittsburgh. Grilled dogs that snap when you bite into them. Mounds of famous fries. (Get the small size unless you’re feeding the Steelers.) Gourmet Magazine rated the O the fourth best hot dog in America in 2001.
CLIFTON – Next stop, New Jersey. Rutt’s Hut. America’s premier fried frank experience. Most folks get rippers, a dog fried long enough to crack the skin open. The well-done dogs are called cremators, the carbon version. Try the yellow, spicy-sweet relish of onion, carrot and cabbage. Not exactly the slaw dog you will find down south, but a very tasty take on it.
MACON – Speaking of slaw dogs, welcome to Nu-Way Weiners in Macon, Georgia. Talk about tradition. Nu-Way started at its Cotton Avenue address in 1916. A comfortable little retro shop on a pleasant street. You can get their yummy, red-colored dogs with slaw or chili. The servers are a delight. Nu-Way made Oprah’s 2007 list of favorite things.
LOS ANGELES – A California-based blog needs at least one homegrown classic, so our last stop on today’s culture tour is Pink’s, a Hollywood landmark since 1939. Hot dog purveyor to the stars. Totally California, man. Where else will you find a pastrami burrito dog – a big flour tortilla wrapped around two dogs and grilled pastrami, with cheese, chili and onions. Their menu covers almost every possible hot dog option.
THE REST – We’ve tried plenty of other stands around the country as well – like Ben’s Chili Bowl in Washington DC, the Lafayette in Detroit, the Varsity in Atlanta, Papaya King in New York City, Tommy’s in LA, Super Duper Wienie just off the turnpike in Fairfield, Connecticut, and Cozy Dog in Springfield, Illinois (home of the original corn dog). They all feed their local frequent-dog-eaters as well as cultural curiosity-seekers, like I am, who just want to join in the fun.
No doubt every part of America has places like these. Affordable comfort food with no class boundaries. A Fourth of July feeling year round. Both a fun meal and an accurate comment on who we are and what we enjoy.
Steamed, grilled or fried, our relationship to hot dogs has been a part of our lives for generations. I think even de Tocqueville would have understood why.
Agreed that there is no “best” dog, just as there is no “best” classical composer. But the simple act of writing about one place rather than another gives it a certain “legitimacy.” Chicago, for example, is full of hot dog fanatics, some of whom would wonder about omitting/ignoring Big Herm’s. And New Yorkers (as well as frequent visitors) would certainly question your mention of Papaya King rather than Gray’s Papaya, and the stunning omission of the original Nathan’s at Coney Island.
In L.A., Pink’s is certainly wildly popular, but a hot dog wrapped in a burrito and smothered by pastrami, cheese, chili and onions is the hot dog equivalent of the overly-plastic-surgeoned women of a certain age one sees tottering around Beverly Hills. For that matter, why bring up Tommy’s, famous for its cheap burgers (also slathered with chili)?
Finally, shouldn’t a great hot dog be able to stand more or less on its own?
LSD:
I enjoyed reading your comments. Please keep them coming. For now, here are some thoughts.
While Big Herm’s and Nathan’s may be great, I’ve never eaten there. My article was limited to the neighborhood places I’ve tried and enjoyed.
But I do freely acknowledge that folks could have other preferences.
That’s because hot dogs strike different cords in different people. Like most comfort foods, our dog loyalties often spring as much from childhood memories and shared experiences as they do from true culinary analysis.
Some of us are basic dog-and-bun fans while others go for the excessive pastrami-burrito dog or one of its equally excessive relatives. But we all know what we like.
I happen to be a condiment whore. I eat sushi for the wasabi, oysters for horseradish and Tabasco and I put sriracha (rooster) sauce on pizza. The protein is important to me, but it’s never just about the meat.
So, I understand your concern about the overly altered imposters popping up in the dogosphere. But I still don’t regret having tried the pastrami chili dog at Pink’s. I do admit that once is enough. But where’s the adventure (or the condiments) in limiting yourself to the stand more or less on their own dogs?
I’ll make you a deal. I’ll try to get to Nathan’s as the first step in the cure for my stunning omission syndrome. You try some new condiments on an old favorite.
Larry Sheingold
Dear LS: Understood that you limited your comments to places you tried. I think my imperfectly-stated notion was to wonder what the thought process was when you picked one place rather than another in a dawg-rich area like Chicago.
As for “condiments” — I’ve leaked enough pickle relish juice and mustard from hot dogs onto my clothes to make my dry cleaners very, very happy. But I don’t think adding pastrami or chili to a hot dog qualify them as “condiments.” A hot dog may be (is) a modest, humble food, but I believe in its integrity just as much as I believe in the integrity of a great steak served at a great steak house. Putting a piece of pastrami on that great steak would just be…wrong. Ditto for the dog.
I look forward to your reports as your continue your hot dog hejira. Today the hot dog, tomorrow the burger?
When it comes to hot dogs–there is a best one! At least in Southern California–CUPIDS. The ambiance sucks, the locations are tawdry, and they are not convenient–but who cares? The dogs are sumptuous. They actually pop when you bite them. They are the real thing. Go to Starbucks for an experience –CUPIDS for a treat.
“Best” is so subjective. I agree with LSD, its hard to pin down a best. I tend to think we do that a lot in our society. We search for the best…but in a country as vast and varried as ours, how do you really declare something “the best”. Even on a given day there might be variances in prepation or taste. One day you might feel like onions, another day sour cream and black caviar (this is available on a really good hamburger at Moe’s in Toluca Lake). Perhaps society needs to move away from the notion of “best” and create lists of places you have to try if you are in _____ and want to eat_____. I am sure there is more than one great hot dog stand in Chicago, which is “the best”….depends on the person and the day.
Hey, Lloyd, it’s Mo’s, not Moe’s.
And that notion of places you have to try as opposed to what’s best, it’s called atLarrys.com the web site where you are a co-host and we recommend restaurants all over the world.
http://www.atLarrys.com