Maybe Mukbang

Since this summer, there have been a lot of photos and videos taken of me eating. This is something I asked for. And while I haven’t yet recorded or broadcasted myself eating anything in real time, I think I have been toeing the mukbang line.  

A mukbang is a livestream video of someone eating and talking with their viewers.  Mukbangs became popular in South Korea in the 2010’s and a short time after in the United States. Studies done by the Seoul University revealed that watching or creating these broadcasts could help reduce feelings of isolation related to eating alone. It creates a collective experience between the “mukbanger” and those watching. The “have a meal with me” videos can also be considered educational if the motive of the video is to present the viewer with knowledge of a new restaurant or regional cuisine.   

Sometimes, I’d like to consider this entire hot dog project of mine one, big, extended mukbang. While you’re not getting a ton of videos of me eating (be grateful), there are photos, supporting writing AND most importantly – a continuous dialogue between me and all of you on the hot dogs. I’ve already expressed my gratitude in having this experiment not be entirely a parasocial one, so thank you again.  

Mukbangs have received some denunciation from nutritionists for encouraging unhealthy eating habits (overeating, food waste etc.), but here’s to hoping my fulgent face wrapped around a dog has brought nothing other than joy to all who have seen it. I'll admit, I have not had the healthiest eating habits and a sporting a hot dog-forward diet for the past - oh, 5 months? - is not normal, but those who know me know I would never waste food if I could help it. If anything, to me the large quantities of food depicted in mukbangs promote the concept of sharing food.  

Those of you who know me well know that that is one of my love-languages and I believe that if mukbangs are fostering connection – so be it! We live in a time where we are constantly connected via our screens, but all that screen time can leave us feeling lonelier; more isolated. Breaking bread; feelings over a favorite platter requited, are a couple small ways to combat that sense of isolation - even if it can only happen virtually.

This is something I think about more around this time of year. As someone who is not a huge fan of the holiday season, I have always appreciated how food is symbolic of a particular celebration. Certain dishes denote our traditions, maybe our cultural identity and when we share that food with others, we express our gratitude and appreciation for those people. At least, that’s how I see it.  

So, on the evening of August 22nd, I expressed my gratitude and appreciation for my best friend Adrienne and her girlfriend Laura with 7 Korean corndogs and 6 donuts. When I first announced my hot dog journey back in July, Adrienne responded saying that she had been dying “for centuries” to try “those Korean street dogs or whatever.” We both had a good laugh about “street dogs,” but then to make sure I was clear, Adrienne actually sent me a mukbang TikTok of someone eating 5 of what looked like corndogs. They were arranged neatly in a line, with sauces aligned perpendicularly and in gradient order. Our tasting was not going to be as visually pleasing.  

Our friend Anthony had recommended Mochi Ring Donut for our tasting.  I was curious to see how this Korean dog would be different from a standard corn dog, of which I am a big fan. The week prior to our meeting, I had had a corn dog while camping at Knoebel’s. Their corn dogs there are dipped in their proprietary cornmeal batter blend right in front of your eyes before getting shoved in hot, bubbling oil. This preparation is preferred to the reheating of pre-made and frozen corndogs, but I wouldn’t discriminate if someone offered me a State Fair brand classic.  I had also ordered a fried cheese curd on a stick for adventure’s sake. The combination of the salty cheese, or dog and the cakey, slight sweetness of the cornbread coating is transcendent and so summer.  At one point, I made sure to bite both the corndog and the cheese curd together just to see what THAT would be like. I had no idea that I was already enacting what awaited me with the Koreans.    

*This is not another international face off, because I’m getting tired of those, but I do want to draw the distinction between the batters. Read on* 

We went with Anthony’s suggestion - Mochi Ring Donut’s Philly location is at 21st and Chestnut. Because they close at 8 and because I wouldn’t make it to Adrienne until ~8:30, I placed my order on Doordash and scheduled for the delivery to arrive before I got there. Adrienne and I had a hell of a time trying to figure out what to order. We wanted to make sure we got a good intersection of all the options, of which there are 30 if my factor multiplication is correct.  

In ordering, you start with:  

A).  The base. Either a whole hot dog, ½ hot dog ½ mozzarella, or whole mozzarella. 3 different options.  

B). Then, you move to the batter. After batter dipped, the dogs can be rolled in, rice, chopped potato (throwback to last week’s Italian dog), crushed ramen, hot Cheeto or blue Taki dust before being deep fried. 5 different options there.  

C). Then, after being fried, one has the option for their corndog to be or not to be (lol) dusted with sugar. With or without sugar = 2 more options.  

So, A x B x C= 30 options. Oh! I’m forgetting the sauces.  

D). There are 3 different sauces offered – ketchup (NO), mustard or honey mustard. This takes our options up to 90 (A x B x C x D) OR more if you consider combining the sauces but I can’t wrap my brain around that right now.   

We couldn’t wrap our brains around the order for a while either. We discussed via WhatsApp from 8:57am until I finally placed the order at 10:20am. Here is what we ordered:  

A). We all wanted a ½ & ½ ramen dog with sugar. That seemed like the one that was really gonna do it all, ya know? Capture the whole essence. So, 3 of those.  

B). 2 ½ and ½ potato dogs *without sugar*. Adrienne and Laura ordered these, for some reason the potato wasn’t calling to me. This was before I had the Italian dog. After reviewing with Adrienne more recently, we feel that if we were to do a Mochi, Korean corndog night again, we’d skip the ½ cheese altogether and just do full dog here.  

C). 1 original rice WHOLE dog. If I’ve learned anything from this hot dog quest– it’s that every experiment needs a control every. time.  

D). 1 hot Cheetos ½ dog & ½ cheese - again, for adventure’s sake.  

E). And a ½ dozen donuts and green tea for me. Thankfully, I ordered the tea with only 30% sugar (yea, I could have ordered 0% but lay off me) and thankful that I taught at the gym before this went down.   

I’m scrolling through that hour plus of back and forth of messages now to put me back in our headspace. We didn’t order any whole mozz because it was going to be too much cheese. I agreed because, I had just had that big, fat fried cheese at Knoebels and felt like I couldn’t do another one this lifetime, but hey would you look at that we ended up having ~4 whole cheeses anyway based on our ordering.   

Once I got to Adrienne’s the dogs were already there. Packed in 2 large paper bags, each dog came in its own little cardboard house. We took all of the boxes out of the bags and cracked them open so we could take an audit of the order we had placed almost 12 hours prior. We made some cocktails (a theme is emerging), did a quick three Musketeers cheers of our dogs, clanking them in the center of the table as if they were epees and got to work.   

I tried the (original) rice, whole hot dog first. Just as with the Chicago dog – there was a lot of texture to break through. Initially, you get the crunch of the toasted rice in the dough surrounding the dog, then the light airiness of the dough itself, and finally the wiener. I was really struck by the dough. As I mentioned earlier, the batter, texture and taste between what we can consider the “American” corndog, and the Korean corndog is much different.  

This difference can be chalked up to the batter ingredients. While American corndogs use corn meal, which leaves us with something like a sausage enveloped in a deep-fried corn muffin, the batter on the Korean dogs is made (in most cases) from mochi, or rice flour. If you’ve had mochi ice cream, you know that the texture is lighter, chewier and as Adrienne described, “fluffier” than what we might be used to when it comes to dough. This was the same texture as what was around the dog.  

I liked it at first, because it was unique from any of the dogs I had previously tried and didn’t leave you with that heavy feeling in your stomach like a corndog does (assuming you stop at 1). However, as I carried on, I started to get pissed at just how much air there was between the dough and the dog. I feel like the cornmeal batter really hugs the wiener, and the result is more cohesive; there is a marriage between corn and dog. With the mochi batter, the dog and the dough aren’t really one. As soon as I took a bite, they would separate and start sliding around the stick; dogs divorciados. I had to pinch the dough to the dog before taking my subsequent bites which angered me! I tried to use the eating of 3 more of these corndogs to sublimate that fury.   

*All of this talk of wrapped, dipped and covered dogs is making me think that I’ve missed a category in my research up to this point – aside from corndogs, there are also pretzels dogs, pigs in a blanket - what other kinds of swathed sausages have I missed and need to try? Let me know.  

The next one I had was my favorite, the ½ dog ½ mozzarella ramen dog with sugar. Wow. All of the issues I just mentioned were still evident, but the crunch of the ramen helped me to forget about my slippy dog. The sugar also complimented the crunch and the saltiness of the sausage and the cheese (fresh, farmery) really well. 3.5 squirts.    

My rating isn’t higher because – the cheese and the dog were also separated! You would bite and get dog, dog, dog – break, then – cheese, cheese, cheese. It was impossible to get a bite of everything at once, which I thought was silly. Is one meant to be a palate cleanser to the other? When they say ½ and ½ - they really mean it that way.  

Geez, I’m forgetting to mention the sauces again! All of the sauce we selected came on the side, which is good. I don’t typically like ordering take out, because I feel like no matter what – everything arrives sog-o. If these dogs arrived pre-sauced, we would have totally lost that magical crunch.  

 We all ordered either mustard (regular, yellow) or honey mustard. I don’t remember there being any ketchup on the table because these people are my friends. The yellow mustard was just your standard Heinz packets, the honey mustard however – I’m not sure whose that was but it was phenomenal. It came unmarked, in little plastic cups. Let me tell you – we flattened those cups out trying to get every last drop of it. It was quite delectable and opened my mind to the use of sweeter mustards on hot dogs (calling back to the French hot dog sauce last week).    

Lastly, I tried the Hot Cheeto dog. By this time, Adrienne and Laura were calling it quits. In fact, I think Laura passed off half of her potato dog to me. They each had each ordered 2 and me 3. The cheeto tasted exactly as I expected - nothing mind-blowing. If you decide to order these for yourself in the future, I recommend sticking with Ramen, Potato or Rice. Everything else is gratuitous – but makes for good potential mukbang fodder if you’re considering. Adrienne and Laura both watched (and filmed) as I took down the last dog of the night.   

We took a breath, a couple sips of green tea, a few belches and trips to the restroom before opening the box of donuts. Did you think we were going to not eat them? I asked to be surprised, and it was fun for each of us to have the donuts and try to guess the flavors as we did. Some were obvious (green was matcha) and some – not as much (I don’t really need to eat a black sesame donut ever again).   

As we were eating them, we recognized that the dough was exactly the same as what was used on the hotdogs! This makes sense, but I was still surprised to make the connection in the moment. I felt personally that the mochi flour worked better as pastry than as a dog covering. The fluffiness made eating 6 donuts after 3 hot dogs feel nearly guiltless! All that deep fried dough did get to my head after we were finished though. Have you ever been just – so full that you weren’t sure what to do with yourself? You become a little panicky? No? That’s good. I wish I could say the same.  

For your safety, don’t eat more than 2 of these Korean corndogs at a time. And obviously I recommend trying the donut but split with a friend. What me, Adrienne and Laura did that night was not a *proper* mukbang, but it did emulate the most important element of the trend – and that’s the social aspect of dining. If you’re going to eat enough mochi flour to make yourself sick, why do it alone?    

In closing – if you want to eat hot dogs with me, I am having my annual party this year on January 4th. It will be (Mar)’tinis and weenies themed! Hit me up if you want more information and bring a friend so we can “mukbang” but do it face to face.  

Italy vs. France

Is soccer seasonless? It feels like it is always going on. There’s always some cup, some tournament that needs to be played. Last month, one of the first phases of the Nations League was being played. The Nations League is a competition played by the member nations of UEFA and normally, I probably wouldn’t care much. It’s just more boys looking for chances to qualify at something. However, a couple of weeks ago when I was alerted by my news app that a match between Italy and France was taking place, I saw an opportunity to tell you all about two more special dogs I’ve tried. One “Italian” and one “French.” The connection between that match and these dogs was already shaky and now super moot since so much time has passed since said match took place, but I will proceed regardless. Here I present you with my next international wiener competition.  

Jim, whose denigration of the hot dog has nearly vanished since this start of this journey, was in Copenhagen recently and brought back lore of a “French” hotdog. Of course this was being served in a country outside of France, because I simply cannot see the French hollowing out a perfectly good baguette to shove a dog down in there and squirt honey dijon in along the sides. Mm. Juicy, blurry preview below:

I had forgotten about this French dog fairytale until it became a reality for me Oct. 11th, the same night I ate a platter of wursts at Brauhaus. We talked about the wurst night a couple weeks ago. After dinner there, my party and I strolled a couple blocks over and down to Le Caveau for something of a nightcap. Le Caveau is next to what used to be Beau Monde and is now Rosy’s South Philly location. You enter through a narrow door on Kater st. And immediately up the staircase you’re met with. The bar is small and dark and terribly sexy. Like, too sexy for me to have been in there with a belly full of six sausages. I would recommend you have your next date there.   

Once we got in, I heard Ellie say from behind me, “I didn’t know they served food here! Oh my god Bianca you must.” I raised my eyes from the drink menu to the small magnet board behind the bar where I found the words “French Hot Dog.”

 I asked the bartender if I could order one. If this sounds like I was asking his permission, I was. I had just come off of my biggest tubed meat gorging since this experiment had started, though he didn’t know that. Could I rightly eat another? Also, I asked because it was getting late and sexier by the second in there. Perhaps their sexy kitchen had closed. Are hot dogs sexy? A French hot dog just might be. The bartender was happy to put my order in but told me it would take a while. Ooh! A dog what takes its time. A slowww burn. Making me wait for it.  

I drank some alcohol, hoping it would burn through some of the sausages I had eaten just an hour or so ago. I also waited, as I was asked to. I finished my first pour (Haitian Rum, neat) before me and my curious, sleepy friends started inquiring after my little doggy. The only waitress pointed our attention to what appeared to be a chemistry lab behind the bar. In what I can only describe as a decanter x beaker type vessel sat my dog. It was leaning against the wall of this container and sweating as though it had entered the sausage spa sauna. If you squint, at the below photo, you can make out what I’m talking about. I’m not sure what method of preparation this was. I want to say it was being steamed to perfection, but I can’t be sure. Here we have another instance where my imbibing got in the way of me getting complete information to support this blog. But now I have an excuse to return.  

I want to pause here to question the name “French Hot Dog.” Like I alluded to earlier, I had my doubts that the French would claim this. Jim discovered it while in Denmark and from my research I’ve found that the recipe is Danish. Or at least, it is most popular in Denmark. There, they are called Franske hot dogs. Turns out the Danes love wieners and there are little sausage wagons all over the place. Good to know there is a place for someone like me. I titled this entry “Italy vs. France” so we’re going to move forward with that but keep this Danish information in the back of your mind.  

Finally, the dog was brought to our table. All mouths fell slightly agape to let the words, “that looks so good” slip through. The dog was presented in a baguette that was not sliced but gutted. Joining the dog within was what tasted like maybe butter and mustard of a honey Dijon variety. I wanted to try and confirm this so, while I was looking up the “Franske” dogs, I also had to look up the recipe for the condiment since it was pretty much superior to any mustard I’d had on a dog previously. The “dressing” is a combination of MAYO (there it is again!), “sweet” mustard, honey, curry and garlic powder. It was sugary, savory and tangy all at once. Lastly, we have discussed the importance of a toasted bun, but I never thought of what eating a hot dog on what felt and tasted like freshly baked bread would do to me.  

As a child, I was quite picky. I know – I've come a long way. Bread with butter was one of the only things I was guaranteed to eat, something my best friend Adrienne likes to tease me about from time to time. Anyway, this may sound silly, but having a really good piece of bread or a roll with butter is one of those comfort tastes for me. That combo being elemental to this wiener sent me to a magical and heartwarming place.   

Thus, began what Rob coined via Instagram as the “hot dog handoff.” I took a bite, and then another, savored and passed it to Ellie who did the same, then to Ted and finally to Jim who had not a single scintilla of criticism. The below photo makes me giggle because it invokes Michelangelo’s The Creation. More simply put, it was the “puff, puff, pass” of dogs and it was delightful.  

I imagine there is more than just a long-standing soccer rivalry between Italy and France. Both are a proud people who tout having the best wine, or cheese, or fashion, or side of the Alps, or cuisine overall. As a reminder, I am throwing glizzies onto that list.  

I had never heard of an Italian dog until my cousin Sandy mentioned to it. From her information and from what I’d read about it in Jamie Loftus’ book, it seems to be a Jersey thing particularly in the north. The anatomy is not much different from an Italian sausage and peppers sandwich.   

The breakdown is as follows: hot dog(s), long roll, sauteed peppers and onions and roasted potatoes. *note to self, my friend TT offered me a hot dog breakfast hash recipe that I MUST remember to try out this winter*   

My cousin offered me a location where I could get this Italian Dog – Johnny Longhots. This is not to be confused with Johnny’s Hots on Del ave. in Philly which I also have earmarked. Johnny Longhots has a few South Jersey locations – Marlton, Voorhees and Deptford. I learned the hard and disappointing way that not all the locations/franchises offer the same menu.  

I stopped at the Deptford location last month on my way home from a visit to the shore. There weren’t even plain hot dogs on the menu, let alone an “Italian Hot Dog.” After a few moments poring over the menu behind the counter, and the printed leaflets by the register, I asked the girl behind the counter if they had “Italian Hot Dogs.” She looked at me confused and shook her head “no.” A more complaisant person may have ordered something else anyway, but I just walked out.  

I am tenacious, though and had an idea as I got back on the road. I know a place that has hot dogs and peppers and onions, never misses and is close to home – Rocco's.

Rocco’s is a casual, little, flat-top grill “restaurant” attached to the Home Depot – also on Delaware. Realizing you can sneeze and run into a hot dog on that avenue. We all know Depot dogs are a national phenomenon and Rocco’s is no exception. Anytime I have to go to Home Depot for like...tools? Smoke detectors? The aroma from Rocco’s always diverts me from the task at hand. Envision the anthropomorphism from cartoons – the scent of the pie on the windowsill turns into a “come hither” hand and pulls the closest trouble-making protagonist to the window by the nose. This is what happens to me when I’m just trying to buy a lightbulb or whatever!  

The guy behind the counter looked at me a little strangely when I asked for a sausage sandwich with peppers and onions – except replace the sausage with a couple of dogs instead. Once I asked for it out loud, it really didn’t seem too odd of a request but apparently it is! No potatoes – I may have been in luck had I gotten there for breakfast – but no such luck at 3pm.  

The sandwich ended up being 4 HOT DOGS split-grilled and put on a long roll with the peppers and onions. Rocco’s dogs are simply great. I know they have their own sausage for sale when you enter the little shack, but I can’t say the same for dogs. Whosever they are or wherever they came from – kudos. I ate half in the car with the window down which is how I feel Rocco’s sandwiches are meant to be eaten and you can see from the photo I took there that the dogs have maybe a little bit of red pepper in the blend? There was a kick to them which I appreciated. I saved the other half to potato myself, at home.  

I don’t roast potatoes (or cook at all really), but Jim does. In fact, he considers roasted potatoes one of his specialties. So, after a bit of sniveling from me, Jim roasted potatoes that I could add to my peppers and onion dog. Wow, did it make a difference.  

Anyone who has ever had a gobbler (I only had one this season and that’s a bit sad for me), understands that potatoes in some form, on a roll is peak cozy. Their addition cut the acidity of the peppers and onions and gave the whole sandwich something of creamy consistency. Very interesting and comforting, something the Italian dog had in common with the French.  

I think the greatest distinction between the “French” and “Italian” dogs is the that I called out when we had our German v. USA contest. One felt hoity-toity and the other a bit more prole and accessible. The Italian dog was super “no-frills.” It wasn’t even as flashy or as ingredient-heavy as that ol’ Chicago-dog, but I would still qualify it as a heartier meal. Also, my Frankenstein-ing of throwing on my own potatoes at home shows that you can DIY an Italian dog yourself and still have a great time.  

At least in soccer, (remember that’s how I decided to start this) there is always one clear winner and loser. Or maybe I just eschew declaring a champion because I want my readers to try and draw opinions for themselves! Either way, France (Denmark?) and Italy can continue to compete for other titles – whose language is more romantic?  

A Few More Shore Doggies

As I’ve mentioned before, one of my favorite parts of this experience is how involved my followers have become. Earlier this week I was tagged in a co-worker's Instagram story. Stephanie was in Chicago having a Chicago dog. She was “pleased.” I was pleased that through that post alone I was invited to experience that dog with her. When people ask me when this project is going to end or maybe even why am I still doing it – I tell them it’s because I am still receiving so much interaction from you all and that’s what makes it fun.  

Within that interaction I receive – naturally - comes suggestions and recommendations of which dogs to try and where. Jocelyn, the only good friend I’ve kept from undergrad in Drexel (AND I was in a sorority), is a big hot dog enthusiast. Food has always been one of our great connectors and we’ve bonded over hot dogs long before I started this quest. Of course, when we had our bi-annual hang coming up in Wildwood – Joce had just the place she wanted to take me to.  

August 3rd, I drove down to the Wild Woods to crash Jocelyn’s family vacation for a few hours. This has become a bit of a tradition in recent years. Joce, her boyfriend Henry and I took a walk to the boards to get lunch at the location she has been talking about. Grab-A-Wiener! Amazing. You know just exactly what you’re going to get here and how you’re going to get it.  

This establishment is at once ostentatious and low-key – a dichotomy that can maybe only be achieved by boardwalk eateries. The menu boasts foot-long dogs with varied toppings, plus all the other classics – french fries, funnel cake, lemonade. I tried to pick a combo of toppings I hadn’t had yet, which proved difficult. I ended up with something called “Crazy Bus,” which I know is going to make a lot of you gag when I get into it. Henry and Joce ordered and split a chili cheese dog (smart), and we all had some fries.   

The Crazy Bus is a footlong dog, served on a long hoagie roll. It comes with cheese whiz, raw white onion and – mayonnaise. I understand this is a divisive subject and I am sorry. I like the white stuff. I do; I am a fan. I don’t love it as much as I love mustard, but I’ve been known to slather my sandwiches with it and a hot dog – well, it’s a sandwich. So is a burger. However, I underestimated just how much mayo I was signing up for here.  

12in is a lot of dog and thus a lot of mayonnaise. Add in the cheese whiz and it’s a wonder I was able to keep this footlong in the bun! I’m having trouble avoiding the innuendos, but this wiener was well-lubricated. After a while, all I could really focus on was how I could just feel all the fat from the mayo and the whiz sliding around in my wide-open trap. I couldn’t finish. Not because the dog itself was bad - I want to make that abundantly clear - but because I made the wrong choice. It happens.  

 I tried to push through, but ultimately could not finish my hot dog. To date, I think this is the only hot dog I haven’t finished. Not even halfway through, it and I agreed to an armistice of sorts. I was tired of fighting to keep the frank in place. I took a napkin and gently pushed off the onion, whiz, mayo river into the little paper tray the dog was served in. I took only a few more bites before my gut really raised the white flag.   

A month later I got to enjoy a much less...saturated dog whilst ON the beach. The first and last I enjoyed this way the entire summer. In recent years, Labor Day weekend finds me and Ava - my best shore sis of 25 years - at the Deauville Inn in Strathmere. These “final days” of summer include posting up on the sliver of beach right in front of this bayside restaurant. There usually isn’t a ton of eating that takes place on these days. Most of the nutrients we receive come from the fresh squeezed OJ in our orange crushes. Ava is happy to stick with these all afternoon, while I - the more labile of the two - tend to abandon the crushes for at least one rum bucket. Dangerous.   

The Deauville does drinks so well, it’s hard to remember that they do also offer food. Like - it’s a restaurant - and thank goodness because someone has got to sober up to make the 50 min drive back to AC.   

After a crush + bucket combo I decided to peruse the menu for something to help soak up the alcohol. Ava usually goes for a giant Bavarian Pretzel with cheese dip. Classic; easy. Ava is not only my best beach friend for a lifetime over, but also my first vegetarian friend. She was doing it before it was cool. Literally, she has always been a vegetarian. She maybe had one drunken slip up ONE TIME, but we don’t talk about that, OK?! Anyway, I mention all of this because it is really fun when your vegetarian friend from forever points out to you the wagyu beef hot dog on the menu.   

One of the best kinds of dogs is the one you weren’t expecting. Now I was excited and the wagyu of it all piqued my interest. So, I made my way to the “Sandbar” (which had what felt like 100 people packed in - 4 bodies deep all the way around on this holiday weekend) to place my order. This to date was the longest I’ve waited for a hot dog. I feel like ordering --> retrieving --> sitting down and eating took about 45 minutes to an hour. There was also time taken to locate mustard. Packets of which were suspiciously tucked into a corner on the far side of the bar. Trust that there was a bevy of ketchup bottles available though which is some crap.   

Once I had everything I needed, I took my dog, which was beginning to sweat in its plastic clamshell, back down to my beach chair to enjoy. The dog was super beefy and very tasty. Is it a cultural sin to turn wagyu into a hot dog? I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know this dog was very nice. I was starving though, so it could have been gull dog, and I would have been fine. Just sayin’ - spring for a wagyu dog should you come across one in your travels to see for yourself.   

 It also came packed with a bag of chips and a little cup of pasta salad to make it feel like a cute little lunch to my tipsy self. Altogether and minus the length of time it took me to get it, I would give this dog 5 squirts. Questionably and regrettably though, I do not have a picture of this 5-squirt package to share. We’ll chalk this fault up to my raddled state. Ava did happen to snap a pic of me with it and for that I am thankful.    

Lastly, I want to mention yet another shore-dog establishment brought to my attention by Ava – The Cardinal in Atlantic City.  The Cardinal is situated deep in Atlantic City, offers modern American cuisine and fancy cocktails.  They also have a big outdoor space with seating and a jumbo screen where they will show sporting events. They usually pair the airing of these sporting events with a DOLLAR DOG menu throughout gametime. I’ve lamented before about the absence of dollar dogs from my life, so this had been on my list to check out for the entire summer.  

Jim and I decided to pay them a visit to watch Game 1 of the Phils in the NLDS (sigh). The big screen was out of commission unfortunately, but we got seats right in front of the TV at the bar. This ended up being a better situation because we were super-well attended to for the entirety of the otherwise disappointing 9 innings.  

There was a game day menu, and the wieners weren’t the only $1 special. They also had wings for $1 each, but when they ran out of chicken, they began offering their duck wings at the same price. The duck wings were exceptional, so this upgraded offering from the chef was really special. If I didn’t have to save room for dogs, I would have eaten those wings all night.   

I ordered 2 $1 dogs, and we shared a plate of truffle fries. The dogs were grilled nicely, but a little skinny which put off the bun (untoasted, sadly) to dog ratio. Though for a dollar a piece, can I really complain? They were worlds better than the soggy, foil-wrapped sweat dogs we used to throw around Citizens Bank Park. Funny, when we ordered the dollar dogs the bartender (a Yankees fan - HA y’all are losers too, sorry) said as Phillies fans that we could only order the dollar dogs if we promised not to throw them. I rolled my eyes then and I’m rolling them now. You should roll yours as well.   

The plate of dogs came with ketchup and mustard, but this mustard was of a honey variety which worked surprisingly well. I also found myself dipping the dogs in what was left of the ranch that came with the duck wings. Maybe the game was starting to make me unravel, but the ranch + honey mustard was hittin’ that evening.   

There is also a possibility that I was trying to compensate for the amount of ketchup usage I was seeing taking place around me. Grown men carefully using their butter knives to cover the dollar dogs with that sweet and sour slop. Pitiful.    

I would definitely visit The Cardinal again, if not for the duck wings and dollar dogs then certainly for the innovative cocktail list (they had an entire fall drinks menu which I’m so into) and the rest of Michael Brennan’s delicious looking menu I didn’t get to taste. With the outdoor space, variety of food/beverage options and the Irish Pub in its back yard a visit to The Cardinal AC can be a 24-hour affair – and that’s how AC should be done.   

Keep the suggestions coming, everyone! I obviously will make time for them all eventually. It’s one of the things bringing me joy in this defoliated season and joy is an act of resistance.  

Regional Hot Dogs

*Please note that this entry was completed with a clenched jaw and heavy heart. It feels insignificant now for me to keep writing about hot dogs I’ve eaten, yet at the same time – it does still bring me joy. AND I think some of you like it too. The interaction and community connection I receive from something as simple and silly as this experiment is enough to bring some levity to a seemingly grave way forward. Let's keep doggin’ together and who knows, maybe in the coming weeks I’ll begin to sprinkle some psephology in, because we all deserve an explanation*   

Ahem – now let’s continue:  

In the same way long form, deli meat sandwiches are “hoagies” in Philly and “subs” everywhere else, hot dogs take on different identities and different toppings depending on where you are in the US. In my take on Royal Tavern’s Dog Days of Summer, we talked about Seattle’s cream-cheese lathered dog. I’ve been hearing about the Sonoran of the Southwest and the Red Hots of the Northeast. Kansas City has a wiener that is essentially a poor man’s Reuben. Half a day’s drive away in Cleveland you can get “The Polish Boy” - a kielbasa layered with French fries, BBQ sauce, and coleslaw reminiscent of Primanti Bros sandwich. I even found a “Mexican” dog at Cantina Los Caballitos last week. There are (one of my favorite iterations) Texas Tommys (but are they Texan?), Coney Island Chilis and even a “Philly” dog which – no, does not come with a cheesesteak on top. However, I think one of the most popular “regional” dogs is the Chicago Dog.  

I was in Chicago two years ago and opted out of trying their dog. Of all the Chicagoan foods, that fell to the bottom of my list to taste, and I just never got to it. It might be fair to say that I have not truly had a Chicago-style hot dog until I have tried it there, but life ain’t always fair, doll face. In my defense, it does not sound super appealing. The ingredients are as follows:  

• Bun; steamed with poppy seeds  

• Dog; all-beef  

• Yellow mustard  

• White onion; chopped  

• Tomato; sliced THICK  

• Sweet pickle relish; as brightly colored as possible  

• Dill pickle spear  

• Sport peppers  

• Celery salt   

That’s a lot, right? I tend to max out at 3 “extras” for most things – dogs, burgers, omelets, pizzas, hoagies etc. There comes a moment where too many toppings or inputs no longer add anything to the experience or taste of what you ordered. In fact, it’s my opinion that too many things could detract from the enjoyment. I’m thinking now of the time a couple of years ago that I was finally able to get an order in at Angelo’s on 9th st. I wanted a chicken cutlet sandwich because I heard their cutlets are bangin’ and cutlets have been one of my favorite things since I was a child. When I got to the counter to order, the woman asked me if I wanted the chicken cutlet hoagie SPECIAL. This was a freeze or fawn moment for me. I said yes because I figured - “’special’, when could I possibly get this again?”  What I got was a chicken cutlet sandwich with long hots on it which – ok, love that. But wait – these long hots were stuffed with provolone and prosciutto. I love stuffed long hots and I love chicken cutlets, but together on this hoagie it was overboard, and I was sad.  

My favorite part of the Chicago dog is the fact that of all 9 of those ingredients/toppings - ketchup isn’t one of them. At risk of you closing out of this blog and deleting the web address from your browser history, it is time now to admit to you all that I really, really hate ketchup. I don’t want to see it; I don’t want to smell it and I DAMN sure do not want it on my hot dog. Chicagoans have deemed adding ketchup to their dog a cardinal sin, citing the sweetness (like, EW) as a disruption to the other flavors. Plus, there is already tomato in its purest form present and sweet relish. What heathen would look upon this tower of a dog and think, “you know what is missing? Corn syrup sludge!” Grow up. Chicago – I stand with you. Moving on.  

The history of how the Chicago dog came to exist has more poverty-meal roots, just like the “waste not; want not” frankfurter itself. It gained popularity during the Great Depression and was marketed to workers as possibly the first “value” meal. The old “two-for-one" as you can have your sandwich and your salad too – right on top!  

On August 6th, I went to try this dog/salad amalgamation at Ortlieb’s. Ortlieb’s is located in Philly’s Northern Liberties neighborhood. It’s a bar, music venue and they exclusively serve hot dogs. It is worth noting that they are NOT the only bar in Philadelphia with dogs as the only menu item (we salute you, McGlinchey’s). I honestly had forgotten about Ortlieb’s until it was recommended to me by an old friend, Ginny. I was there a lot more pre-Covid for shows, but never ate anything on my previous visits.  

From a quick check on their Instagram (@ortliebsphilly, btw), I saw they were doing Tiki Tuesday drink specials during the summer and that happy hour started at 5pm so that was good enough for me. I had ordered a tiki drink the week prior during my first visit to Lucky’s and tropical drinks x hot dogs felt like the best way to double down on summer. Especially when they’re served in those awesome, Easter Island sculptured glasses. Don’t forget the umbrellas!  

The hot dog propaganda is heavy when you roll up to Ortlieb’s. The first thing you’ll see before entering is their red and white “O” sign, which I love because it reminds me of a donut. Right beneath is a neon “hot dog” fixture in the window which is perfect; we’re in the right place. You open the door to the establishment to complete darkness.  

I mean, this place is a diveee. We were in peak summer when I arrived, which meant that I had to allow a full minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark from the light. You’ll get an idea of just how inky it is in here from my photos. Once I was confident that I could walk forward without falling, we claimed some seats at the bar.  

It’s a Tuesday at like 5:30 pm. So, I am not surprised that it’s pretty much me, Jim and the bartender in here. We’re handed our tiki specials and hot dog menus.  

My first drink is a Blue Hawaiian, and we put in for a few dogs. Neither of us have ever had a Chicago dog before - saw it on the menu here and decided it was time to try. No time like the present! I’m shocked Jim orders one at all, but to his point, “there is nothing else to eat.” 2 Chicagos and 1 plain mustard dog (control) get ordered. If I remember correctly, I think the happy hour special meant a dollar off of each of them, adding further value to that Windy City frank.   

They came out fairly quickly – I did mention there was hardly anyone else there? I noticed the bun wasn’t toasted. Not a great sign, but otherwise it didn’t look bad. I went in to take my first bite. It took several seconds for my teeth to even reach the dog hidden beneath the salad. I chewed thoughtfully, trying to carefully pick up each of the flavors.  

I was happy enough with the taste of all of the condiments together. I’m a vinegar bish so, the load of savory toppings was working for me – my favorite and I think most complimentary being the little addition of celery salt! It really pops out among everything else going on; could live without the sweet relish. So, all the tang gets a thumbs up, but the general...texture? Mouth feel? Thumbs down. Those seconds it took for me to get to the meat were agony; cutting through several layers of mush to get to a meat tube that had no – crunch. A little disappointing.  

I maintain that Ortlieb’s was perhaps not the best place to try this wiener. The drinks were fire, albeit a tad expensive, and I like the hideaway vibe of the bar in general. It feels like somewhere you can go and suck down dogs and drinks in the cover of darkness, before or after seeing a band play or doing karaoke in the main room. Just maybe stick to the dog combos you know a regular, untoasted potato roll can handle.  

 I would certainly give the Chicago dog another try. Rob, my friend Holly’s boyfriend, was on a work trip to Chicago recently and sent me a picture of mini, Chi-town that looked overall a lot better than what I had. After asking him how it was, he told me he was going to eat 5 more. That’s a top squirt review! Just like any good love story, this one is not a “happily ever after”, rather a “to be continued.”  

USA vs. Germany

These two have a history of confrontations, but luckily this wiener war shall remain lighthearted. After delving into a bit of the history of the hotdog as we know it today, I wanted to compare its German roots to its present American form – and to be honest I’m curious about its future, but we can muse on that together, later.    

Let’s start with my October 11th trip to Brauhaus Schmitz on South St. where Ellie, who you should remember joined me for my very first hotdog experience at the Royal Tavern, her partner Ted and good ole Jim all met to eat some sausages and drink some German beer. We had just missed Oktoberfest, but still enjoyed some half liters of the festival beers they had on tap while we waited for our food.

I simply couldn’t resist ordering the wurstplate which the menu describes as a “sampler” of their sausages served with potato salad and sauerkraut. You can make a wurstplate with 2 out of the 6 available varieties for 20 bucks or hell, get all 6 for 40. I think we already know what I went with...if I am not going to sit and try 6 sausages at a time now, amid this project, then when? Also, I think it’s a great deal? I’ve made bigger disbursements for this research already and have gotten less in return so, I felt justified in my order.  

Ellie, Ted and I all got wurstplates. They chose a sampler platter of 2 sausages because they are not maniacs. Jim ordered a doner kebab and in return received a massive eye roll from my side of the table. The 6 sausages are as follows:  

Bratwurst – traditional fresh pork. I believe this is the one most commonly served at Oktoberfest and Christmas Market celebrations, and is probably the German sausage (besides the hot dog since after last week I’m counting that as ours) we are most familiar with here in the states. I’m fine with them. I’m super into sauerkraut now because of this experiment and so I enjoy brats as a vessel for kraut consumption more than anything else. Remember my squirt rating? I’d give this...3.5 squirts out of 5.  

Knockwurst – pork, veal and garlic. It is very reminiscent of my good friend Kielbasa. It must be the garlic. Both Ellie and Ted ordered this as one of their samplers. 4 squirts.  

Speckwurst – smoked bacon and pork. This one to me tasted most like a hotdog and... bologna? Is bologna just a scaled-up hotdog served in thin slices, so that we can enjoy the taste of a hot dog in a more “traditional” sandwich form? Our reliable pals at the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council (god DAMN get me an application) have this to say, “much like hot dogs, bologna is commonly made of beef, pork, turkey or chicken that is finely ground and stuffed into a casing for cooking which is often later removed. The bologna is cooked or smoked and then either packaged whole or sliced.” Welp. I will set aside a day to go through a bologna (nee baloney) tasting now that I have made the connection and verified the relation.  

Feuerwurst – these are getting hard for me to spell. This one is made with spicy pork and as a heat-lover this one was my fave. They even cooked it to extra-blistery perfection. 5 squirts.  

Kasewurst – pork, beef and cheese. I recommend cutting this one open and letting it sit for a minute before diving in or you will have third degree burns on the inside of your mouth and down the front of your chin. That cheese comes out HOT (temp)! I did like this one a lot – probably another 4 squirter, but I kept getting stuck on how much I wanted volcanic cheese to have come out of the feuerwurst instead. Ted got this as a part of his platter as well.   

Weiswurst – pork and veal. Worstwurst, more like. Weis is “white” in German making the sausage aptly named. This guy tasted as bad as it looked and it looked – sick. The mixture of the veal must be what made it so pallid and possibly what also made it so “gross” - Ellie’s words. I happen to like veal, but in this sausage, there was a distinct gamey/organ taste that I was not a fan of. Jim said he had been let down by this one in the past too. If you’re going to get all 6 sausages at Brauhaus, definitely try for the experience – it’s not like its inedible - but be warned.  

The potato salad and sauerkraut were both bomb, but I was remiss in not trying any of the mustards that were on the table. Was there mustard on the table? There must have been, but I was so distracted and overwhelmed by my pornographic platter that it was overlooked.    

Even though he was served a little attitude, Jim still offered me a bite of his kebab which was also stellar. We shared a plate of spaetzle, because I simply wanted it. Everything was capped with apple strudel and vanilla ice cream for dessert and a round of differently flavored schnapps, served in small, fancy, cut-crystal glasses. We left Brauhaus to go get a nightcap at Le Caveau where there was friggin’ FRENCH HOT DOG on the menu but leaving that here as a teaser for a future entry.  

So, I enjoyed mostly everything I had at Brauhaus. I was surprised as how much I was able to consume but realized I probably didn’t get too full too fast as none of the sausages are served in rolls! Remember, this was something that our German immigrant food cart operators added in for convenience. It is not the traditional way! Even though this absence of bread helped me feel less bloated, I have to admit I missed it. There was something wrong to me about eating all of those sausages with a fork and a knife. Kinda too fancy; very first world. I’d like something a little less – refined. 

Less refined and more casual, like eating in your car. I mean, not even having to leave your car to order the food you’re going to eat there. Drive-ins, like the hotdog, are another cultural symbol of Americana. A drive-in establishment is one where a customer can simply drive in and park their automobile to receive service. Drive-ins generally come in the form of restaurants and movie theaters (or a combination of the two) and were most popular in the 1950’s. I associate this period very closely with that true, blue Americana culture - something I either arrived to myself or learned from my mother and Lana Del Rey. I would also like to differentiate the drive-in from the drive-through, where customers are more likely to take their food elsewhere to eat, instead of remaining parked at the facility.  

Some of the most well-known drive-ins are Sonic, Stewart’s, A&W, but for the purpose of of my study, I headed across the bridge to a place I had passed a million times before (on the way to the Cherry Hill Mall with my parents) but had never experienced: Weber’s.   

It’s hard to miss the bright, orange-grounded facade and bold, black lettering that wraps around the outside of this squat, square building. Just about a 15-minute drive away from South Philly, along Route 38 in Pennsauken, she’ll sneak up on your right-hand side. The first thing you’ll see right at eye level is a sign that, doesn’t shout, but projects clearly with its stage voice, “ROOT BEER.” If you weren’t thirsty before, you will be upon sight of this sign. Above that, “Weber’s Famous” with 4 orange circles on 2-axis, which I believe rotate around each other when the drive-in is open ~mid-March to mid-October. Decelerate, put on your indicator, pull-in.   

I first visited Weber’s only a few weeks into research, August 13th. It was a real bluebird of a late summer day and not too hot. Weber’s is only open until 6:30, so we had to make sure we left the city with enough time to sit and enjoy. The early closing time makes me kind of sad, in the movies drive-ins always seem to be open pretty late, making them the spot to be! But also, maybe Route 38 isn’t much of a destination these days.  

We claimed a spot on the side of the building, where they had a very simple menu, and very simple instructions posted. “Turn your lights on for service.” The carhop came over almost immediately. She took our order from the driver’s-side window. Making a choice at Weber’s is easy, because there are really only a handful of things to decide on. Hot dogs, hamburgers, fries and shakes. The classics! They do also offer veggie burgers, floats and because Jersey, pork roll.  

Naturally, I ordered 2 franks – one just with mustard (brown, they will ask you to specify) and one just with cheese. The cheese thing for me was huge, because the cheese they have to offer here is not whiz a la a Texas Tommy, but rather a slice of white American cheese place whole and melted directly onto the bun. This is how I eat my dogs at home. How did they know? Very comforting to me that I could also find this out in the world. The mustard dog came with a beautifully zig-zagged distribution of my favorite condiment and – I already hinted to this – the buns were toasted. Perfect.   

We also got fries and 1 “Black Cow” apiece. "Black Cow” is Weber’s name for their root beer float which was – wow. I went for the dogs, but remember that omniscient “ROOT BEER” sign I mentioned earlier? Webers knows what they’re doing. The root beer they serve is their proprietary brew. It is very lightly carbonated, so when it is mixed with vanilla ice cream, there is none of that weird foam waste that blows up to the top of your cup like when your mom used to throw a hunk of freezer-burnt Breyer’s into your Mug. No, no, no – this combo is smooth. Almost too easy to drink, because once I got that straw to my lips I couldn’t stop – hooked. They allegedly will sell this root beer to you by the gallon which is what brought us BACK to Weber’s about a month later, but alas they were out of the correct containers. To be continued.  

All of this goodness comes out to you on a tray that the carhop hangs on to a half-open car window. Nerve-wracking, but it held. If I wasn’t taking pictures, there would have been no reason for me to get out of the car at all. It was so quick and convenient – we were barely sure what to do with ourselves after we ate. 6pm on a summer night and we paid $6 just to come out here we might as well – go to the mall? The Americana just keeps on coming.  

In retrospect, I thought I had favorite of these two businesses and felt I was tipping toward that in the beginning of this entry. Now that we have arrived to the end, I am having trouble determining a clear winner between the European and the American wieners. The eating of both were such different affairs that it doesn’t really seem fair to pit them against one another. In a sense, they are one. We have already determined the clear connection linking international sausages to the American doggie. If only all wars could end with a realization of similarities instead of a persisting exploitation of “differences.”  

 For a moment I thought I could say German sausages were the past where the American variation is the present? That’s not correct either. Because for one, it’s my opinion that American interest in German sausage has made a resurgence thanks to the hotdog and for two, the establishment I voted to be my American champion for this face off felt very dated. This does bring me back to the question I raised at the top of this entry – if the past is the present and what I thought was the present is the past – forget all of that, what is the future of hotdogs? Are we living it now? To use a German word and bring it back to source once more, are we in a modern-day dog zeitgeist?  

A Hot Dog History

All hot dogs are sausages, but not all sausages are hot dogs.  

This was the consensus I was able to arrive to after months of surveying those who have accompanied me down my dog hole. I began asking mostly because I couldn't decide if I could, or whether I should, include "sausages" as a part of my quest. I also began asking because there are so many different names for a hot dog. "Hot dog" itself - I will dig into the background of that nomenclature later - "wiener", "frank(furter)"...it became difficult for me to discern if or how a hot dog is truly different from a sausage or any of those other denominations. But then I realized, "oh - of sausages (or what I would personally consider thus) there are many." Which should mean a hot dog is just another sausagal (making that a word) variation? Hm, let's start at the beginning.  

 If you ask Google who invented the hot dog, or how hot dogs came to America, the most popular return speaks of a man named Charles Feltman. A German immigrant who ran a frankfurter stand in New York back in the 1800’s found a way to help beachgoers carry and eat their red-hot meat tubes by placing them in a sliced-open long bun. Simple enough.  

 So here, the hot dogs are referred to as “frankfurters.” All German sausages are named for the region from whence they came. Every town has their own special blend kind of deal – like the way the U.S. has own our regional dogs now (difference being that the toppings vary, but the base remains the same). Mr.Feltman hailed from Frankfurt-am-Main, Germany, which is why the sausage he was slinging was referred to as a “frankfurter.” Clear?   

 Now, on to the name as we know it today, nearly 160 years from its conception: Hot Dog. The National Hot Dog and Sausage Council (hi, are you hiring?) claims that the Germans themselves would joke about the appearance of the frankfurter sausages, feeling they resembled their own sawed-off canines - the dachshund. There we have “dog,” simplified for New Yorkers who didn’t speak German and couldn’t spell or say dachshund + served “hot,” since they were also at the time referred to as “red hots” based on the heat from the grills used to cook them = “hot dogs.” This equation works in reverse, as I feel like dachshunds have also been called “wiener” dogs in popular culture.  

 Cute cartoons ads drawn at the time featured dachshunds in buns. Unfortunately, this may have had a bit of adverse effect and could mark the beginning of the rumors and mystique surrounding ~just exactly what kind of animal meat~ those street vendors of yesteryear were using for their sausages. This is unsurprising, as we still think immigrants eat dogs in 2024.  

 I said earlier, of sausages there are many. Most every culture has its own form of sausage. Germany, mother country of our heroine hot dog, has like over 1,000 kinds themselves alone. I've eaten many sausages. Some in my past lives and others this summer amid my confusion of whether they should be counted among my hot dog tastings:  

Of German Descent: Bratwurst, Knockwurst, Speckwurst (which to me tasted most like a hot dog), Weiswurst, Feuerwurst, Kasewurst, Nurnbergers and Regensbugers – with sauerkraut and/or mustard.  

 Of Italian Descent: Hot, Sweet – with peppers and onions and without. Rocco’s at the South Philly Home Depot is my favorite to be honest. I haven’t visited there yet as a part of this experiment, but reading through Jamie Loftus’ mention of the “Depot Dog” got me yearnin’...  

 Of Polish Descent: Kielbasa – I like to let that garlicky flavor really sail through, though something I will mustard this down as well. I don’t have any input on Czerw's vs. Swiacki’s in Port Richmond, but if you do I want to hear about it.  

 Of Thai Descent: Sai Ua – served to me on stick, purchased at the South East Asian Market in FDR park.  

 Of Korean Descent: Korean corn dogs. Eventually I will document the quiet mukbang evening I had, eating about 4 of these babies.  

 Of Portugese Descent: Languica – have you guys been to Gilda yet?  

 Of Icelandic Descent: The Pylsa – the only “hot dog”/sausage I took one bite of and refused to continue. See below, the faces say it all.  

 Of Spanish Descent: Chorizo – this is tough because typically I’ve eaten uncased and as a part of Mexican cuisine, so Mexicans please call me out if this one was not a colonizer original.  

 Lastly, of Germantown Descent: Everything from Deke’s.  

 It makes sense that sausages are a global cuisine. Sausages were created in ancient times to use up every bit of animal meat, today the process seems the same for hot dogs with perhaps less scary stuff than you might imagine and simply more industrialization. Cuts of meat that are too small to be sold on their own are mixed down to create a hot dog “batter,” which yes that’s gross, but it doesn’t seem like they grinding up all the things lore might have you believe is secretly in there. If you are skeptical, simply read the back of the next package of hot dogs you are interested in purchasing. If you are faint of heart, “variety meats” is the term you want to look out for and steer clear of. This means that there could be organ meats used in the blend. Regardless, hot dogs and sausages seem to me to be one of the first sustainable and non-perishable food inventions, cutting down on waste and helping refine meat preservation techniques through smoking and salting.  

 Given all of the above, the American popularity of the hot dog also makes sense to me. A cheap, accessible, imperishable, grab and go food item that won’t interfere with productivity, and whose manufacturing can be scaled up to satisfy not only our appetite for gluttony, but for capitalism and industry? I mean really, if we had hot dogs 100 years earlier Betsy would have been using a lot more brown and yellow thread than red or blue.  

 Now here comes the full circle moment – you know what else you can probably find all over the world now besides the local sausage? Say it with me: HOT DOGS! Americans were gifted frankfurters by the Germans and in return we gave hot dogs back to the world. Don’t believe me? Check this out - when you get off a plane in Frankfurt, Germany (the same city from which our alleged hot dog inventor was from and home to Germany’s largest international airport) you are met with a bunch of stands named, Hermann’s Mobil. Spoiler alert: they’re sausage carts same as they ever were. And the one item on their menu in English? Come on, I know you want to say it again: HOT DOGS! They’re universal. If every culture has a sausage, maybe the hot dog is America’s. I was confused before because I was thinking of hot dogs and sausages as separates, but that’s not right. All hot dogs are sausages, but not all sausages are hot dogs because hot dogs are the most famous, internationally adored sausages there are!  

I want to continue here, but I think putting in a review right now would be too much to consume, ha. SO, next week my review will be something of a frank face-off. A battle betwixt the 6 OG (Original German) sausages I tried at Brauhaus Schmitz and 4 All-American doggies from a trip across river to Weber’s & Five Guys. Come back to get it hot.

Lucky’s Last Chance

Actually, I gave Lucky 3 chances. I visited Lucky’s for dog tastings first on August 1st with Danita, secondly on September 11th (never forget) with my parents AND the third time was less than an official visit and more like my Dad just brought me two of the dogs I hadn’t yet tried – that was 2 weeks ago. All in all, I’ve sampled eight (out of eleven) of the specialty hot dogs on Lucky’s Queen Village Menu. I’m going to do my best to recount them all below.  

 BUT FIRST, I would like to call out that Lucky’s lists their hot dogs as “2nd place” to their burgers. I will admit, I never really gave their wieners the time of day before because I am always being called by the PB & Bacon burger, but there is a good reason I returned to this establishment thrice during my studies. Lucky’s menu mentions that they use “only the best local, natural casing dogs a.k.a frankfurters” – that’s a huge piece of information for me. Do natural casings a frankfurter make? I will have to put a pin in that for later. Lucky’s then settles these frankfurters “gently in butter toasted New England style (split top) hot dog rolls.” They also have veggie dogs available! The toasted roll, I’ve learned over the past 4 months (Jesus), is crucial to the overall rating of the dog; can take it from a 4 to 5 easily. That being said, I am working on what my rating scale should be for the purpose of this blog. Should hot dogs get stars? Gold medals? Blue ribbons? What about 1 to 5 “mustard squirts,” with 5 being the best, “would 1000% eat again”? We’ll play around with it. You let me know what you think.   

On the first visit, we were in those peak “dog days of summer” as I mentioned a couple of articles ago, I met Danita (cast of characters, friends and fam mentioned in this blog and their bios forthcoming) there and Lucky’s “Hot Dog Summer Menu” was available. I was not expecting this additional hot dog menu, but I welcomed it. After all, I was suspecting this whole time that by undertaking this project I’d hit right on the zeitgeist. There were five supplemental summer dogs on this menu. I ordered the Kahuna Dog – “a bacon wrapped dog stuffed with American Cheese and topped with Secret Spot Sauce (who?) and diced pineapple and jalapenos” AND a Tango Dog – “pepper jack cheese, pickled jalapeno and red onion, topped with a cilantro cream drizzle.” I’m beginning to recognize a pattern of me really being into jalapenos on dogs (a la the Seattle Dog from the Royal Tavern review). Danita! I do not remember what you ordered, but I know you had two dogs as well. UPDATE from D on 10/15: “I went with something old and something new — the Sgt. Pepper and the Cart Dog from the summertime special menu.” Thank you, somehow there are still 2 types of dogs I hadn’t tried for myself from Lucky’s, so I am happy these could be included. We split some cheesy tots and had about three drinks a piece. I know I went with a tiki vibe for my drink which was screamin’ summer to me at the time and will make a reappearance a couple of entries from now when I talk about me and Jim’s visit to Ortleib’s. I recall the flavor or the dogs themselves wasn’t as good as Royal Tavern, but lord the toasted sturdiness of the bun really saved these from dipping from a 4 to 3 squirt rating.  

 I have more detailed notes from the second visit to Lucky’s with the parents. It is worth mentioning now that the proximity of my home and my parents’ home to Lucky’s is desirable. It’s much closer to my parents – maybe a 5-minute walk – making it only a 15-minute walk for me. My parents were already big fans of this place and so was I (I did mention the PB & Bacon, right? What about the Pickle Monster?) long before this hot dog experiment came along. Every time I go there, there is no pretense. The menu is the same, but they always have a monthly or seasonal special which is right up my alley. I like the drinks and the service and there is always a seat for my ass. For a low key, “I didn’t feel like cooking tonight” kinda night (that’s like 6 nights out of the week for me, btw), Lucky’s is a top spot.  That being said, it wasn’t hard to convince my parents to come with me there for an end of summer, tubed meat smorgasbord.   

 My mother ordered the My Boy Bleu burger, her preference for burgers > dogs cited last week, but my Dad joined me on a 5-dog sojourn and an order of fries for the table.   

1). Last Chance Coney – I never went chilli on a dog before this moment and I’m not sure why! To me, the compliment to each other is undeniable; something very cowboy about chilli and a preserved pork pipe. Which makes me question how chili became the title topping of a northeast beach town? We will get to regional dogs eventually, but if anyone has an intel on this, please advise.  

2). Stinker – garlic butter toasted, fried onions, prov, aioli and kraut. Sauerkraut is another topping I did not appreciate until recently, but here I think it overpowered the rest of the toppings it was combined with. I was really looking forward to having that garlic POP.  

3). Voodoo – shredded cajun chicken, american cheese, onion strings and another one of those secret sauces. How many secrets can one establishment have? Best not to ask I suppose. This was our favorite of the night. My dad, who I most likely got my appreciation for hot dogs from as I’m coming to grasp, described this one as “damn good.” It was more like a meal than the others. Also, chicken on a hot dog? – that was super novel to me. 5 squirts!  

4). Scorpion – mac & cheese and (hello again) jalapenos. If these dogs had personality this would be the most taciturn of four, which was unexpected given its name. Kept waiting for that scorpion’s sting! But it wasn’t really talking to me - there was not a lot of flavor added by either the mac & cheese or the jalapenos.  I think I would have enjoyed both more separately.   

5). My dad had ordered a “naked” dog as his control for the experiment. Way to get into it, Pop!   

 Two weeks ago, when my parents were heading back to Lucky’s for what is obviously their monthly requirement, I had actually asked them to get me a burger! A text from my dad in reply said, “Did we have the 1 Up Dog and/or the Norc Dog?”   

“Neither!”   

“You got em.”  

That is how I came to try the last two (I must have had them all now – right?) of the Lucky’s Last Chance hot dogs.  

The “1 Up Dog” is topped with sharp prov and sauteed mushrooms. The garlic aioli makes another appearance here and I was surprised by how much I liked this one. The cheese and the aioli stood out more on this than on the Stinker. And I don’t really mess with mushrooms, but they just – worked? I wouldn’t overlook this one, friends.  

The Norc was another chilli dog, but instead of shredded cheddar like on the Coney, this came with mustard and raw onion. It only took a 2-dog arc for me to go from being into, to not so into chilli dogs. It’s ok – coulda just been whatever mood I was in that day.   

Last update for this week is that I received back the annual blood work results that I was fearful of looking at this time last week. I haven’t followed up with my doctor yet, but from what I can see everything is looking good. I was “green” (numbers within the “normal” range) all the way down the panel. It even looks like my kidney function (that’s the eGFR reading, kiddos) has improved. Maybe eating all that “Lucky’s”  is rubbing off – I mean, it’s in the name.  

If you’d also like to improve your kidney function, try visiting Lucky’s at one of their two locations in Philly - Queen Village or Manayunk. They’re on IG @luckyslastchance as well.

Why do Hot Dogs get such a bad rap?

“Bad rap” is an expression that means, “bad reputation” and me even writing something perhaps negative about hot dogs at this point should be regarded as lèse-majesté, but I must continue since this was one of the more pertinent questions related to my experiment.  

On my second out of three visits to Lucky’s Last Chance in Queen Village I was with my parents. Me and my dad split four of the specialty hot dogs on the menu (as of today I have tried EIGHT of Lucky’s different wieners, but I’ll get into that more next week), but my mother ordered a burger. I asked her why she wouldn’t join in on our tasting as she had ordered a burger that evening instead. She told me that she “prefers” burgers because she had always thought of hot dogs as being “bad.” I think this is an idea we’ve all encountered. “Sodium”, “nitrates”, “mystery meat,” “shortened life span” are all words and phrases that come to mind or are associated with the hot dog. Holly has also called out the shape and “phallic nature” of franks as adding to their rap sheet. In terms of the health-related tittle-tattle, I can believe that where there’s smoke, there’s fire, but what is the truth? Ok – if hot dogs are really that bad for you, are they any worse than any other junk food one can eat? I happen to know that there are some burger patties out there that go through a similar procedure to the notorious hot dog.    

As Jamie Loftus goes into much of the “how it’s made background” of glizzies in her book Raw Dog, allow me to offer you the closest thing I can to a unique insight on meat processing: a story my late Uncle Don told my father,  who then told me at my second out of three visits to Lucky’s Last Chance in Queen Village. And oops – this is a burger story. Back in the day, my Uncle Don (my father’s younger brother) worked at a meat processing facility (which I will not name to avoid accusations of slander or calumny) on 4th and Spring Garden. He was charged with “mixing up” the hamburger meat. He would make 100 pounds of hamburger, but in this mixture was only 25 pounds of “beef.” My dad used hyperbole with what he said next to drive his point home with a bit of comedy, “and of this ‘beef’ was everything they could find in the factory related to cow – cow dick, ass, nose – whatever!” Next added was 30 pounds of beef fat, oatmeal to fill/bind the patties and unflavored gelatin. This concoction was then sent through a freezing coil that shaped the patties, froze them, and cut them at the end so that they could be packaged and sent to restaurants. This recalled a food truck I saw making a delivery to my university’s dining hall while I was on campus, the side reading, “BEEF: GRADE D FOR UNIVERSITIES AND PRISONS.” Awesome. The story closes with a remark on how the burgers would shrink to a third of their frozen size once cooked. My cousin Sandy, Don’s daughter, to this day will still not eat a certain brand of meat based on her father’s experience and advisement.  

So, maybe not as bad as hot dogs since that story had no mention of those pesky preservatives. What tf is a nitrate you ask? Not totally sure! But this is what my research has gotten me. Nitrates are made of nitrogen and oxygen and exist naturally in some foods like leafy green vegetables which I will likely never mention again on this blog. These nitrogen/oxygen particles can also be added to certain foods to prevent the growth of bacteria – think anything you would classify as “processed” – lunch meats, cheeses and motha-effin’ hot dogs. These added-in nitrates eventually break down into nitrosamines, a transformation that is prevented by the antioxidants present in the natural nitrate foodies when those are eaten. Nitrosamines increase certain health risks, including the development of cancer. Yikes! I don’t have anything quippy to say to write myself out of this…did you know that because of those same cancer-causing molecules you can also eat hot dogs straight out of the package? Raw?! That’s cool, right?! 

Let’s talk about sodium. I know you don’t want to, but yes, we have to. Just stay with me because I have another hot, uniquely Bianca insight coming at you. I have noticed that each hot dog I eat is commensurate to one pound gained the following day. Now, calorically, this doesn’t make a ton of sense, but sodium, water-retention related – it just might. This might not be true for the rest of you, but as someone who is a bit obsessed with their weight (and so decided to take on a one-woman hot dog eating contest with herself imagine that), I am acutely aware of how certain foods and activities I eat or do can make the scale move. I also feel that I am especially sensitive to salt based on the remarkable and unquenchable thirst I get whenever I eat a meal I did not prepare myself.  I had plenty of opportunities to test this theory this past summer and if I had one hot dog for dinner, my weight would go up by at least one pound the next day. Two hot dogs?  Two pounds; so, on and so forth. This tracks - most hot dogs contain about 25% of the daily recommended value of sodium. High sodium diets are often tied to an increased risk of heart disease and high blood pressure. They are also linked to bloating from water retention and in some cases, higher body fat.  

I got my annual bloodwork done today and I will get my results back in a couple of weeks, but I am writing to you from a place of some…fear. What will the blood say (lol, sorry I have been watching a lot of Dexter)? What have I done? Why did I choose to penalize my body in this way? Is there anything I can do now to reverse any potential damage done? When I have children, if I even can at this point, what deformities will they be born with? Hot dog hands a la Everything Everywhere All at Once? (This movie is also called Everything All the Time if you are my mother). Some of you did call out your concern to me via IG. I can’t take back the dozens of dogs I have consumed this summer. And I can’t quit this blog yet since there are still so many dogs I haven’t gotten the chance to write to you all about and I want to persevere to see this project through to the end. BUT what I can do is move forward with confirmation of what we all kinda already knew was true – dogs are great fun, but not great for you.   

*Sorry* no pictures provided for this entry, but feel free to toggle over to the STUFF TO LOOK AT tab if you need a palate-cleanser. Beautiful captures of our favorite femme-fatale the hot dog. More added every week!  

A Couple Of Shore Doggies

Between my two Royal Tavern visits and feeling totally amped about my new hot dog project, I took the tasting on the road. I’ve called it “East Philly” before, most Philadelphians simply say, “down the shore”, but really for me Atlantic City is my second home. I’m there basically every weekend in the summer and this was the first summer weekend of my experiment – date July 27th.  

On Friday mornings between Memorial Day and Labor Day, there is a Farmer’s Market that happens in Ventnor which is one shore point over from me in AC. In the past couple of years, I’ve added it to my beach weekend routine. It’s nice on a day where I usually work remotely anyway, to scoot down there and pick up a few treats for the rest of the weekend. My rule is, when my bag is full it’s time to go. I’m very liberal with this rule as you will regularly see me juggling a full bag plus something under each arm back to my car.  

This year, I saw a food truck that I hadn’t noticed in years’ past: Di’s Dogs and Burgers. Well, perfect. I make it my aim to be patron to every stand at the market at least once over the course of the summer and this day was my time to try Di’s. The truck is very eye-catching, with a cartoon version of whom I can only imagine is Di themself on the front. I must say, one of my favorite things about this truck is that “dogs” were given top billing! I feel like my whole life I’ve always heard “burgers and dogs.” Maybe alphabetical rules applied? Anyway, I was glad to see the switch up against the bright blue checkered pattern of the truck.  

No line, I stepped up to the front and ordered - that’s right – a hot dog. But being the fat face that I am, I also scanned the menu for anything else I could try. Chicken and waffles? Ok! Tots? That’s an easy one. The chicken and waffles takes a little bit of time since they are tenders which are freshly battered dipped then you know, waffled. While I waited, I perused my condiment options which were laid out on a picnic table in front of the truck. Spoiler alert: while I am historically a spicy brown kinda gal, the shore dogs I will write about here both called for yellow mustard. I maybe only waited 5 minutes when everything came out to me piping hot! The chicken and waffles come in an order of 2, served with maple syrup drizzle, powdered sugar AND on a stick which is cute and kept stickiness mess to a minimum. Now my little doggy, she was SPLIT GRILLED! I’m biting my bottom lip just remembering. For some reason I cannot explain – that is one of my favorite ways to be served a wiener - split grilled from the flat top, baby. As my sister-in-tubed-meat Jocelyn (we’ll hear from her again soon) responded when I posted my photo of it to Instagram, it was “perfection.” The bun had clearly spent some time on the grill as well, something I will learn throughout my studies is ~crucial~ to overall dog enjoyment. Yellow musty got squirted up the center and that jawn was gone in two bites. I wish I had more details to share about how it actually tasted, but I was SO excited and ate it so quickly that I just, don’t. The tots were also great – crispy, not super greasy, right amount of salt. My imagination is fired now by the idea of Di’s burger, which I will have to save for maybe next summer? But I would never be able to visit that truck again without getting another hot dog. 

So, that was Friday – on Saturday, July 28th I started my day with another staple of my shore weekend ritual. I strapped on my ankle weights, and took to the boardwalk for my hot girl walk. I usually walk south, back in the direction of Ventnor City because, frankly (lol) it’s more scenic and everyone seems to be out doing their own version of hot girl walk. This day – and I didn’t even know it yet – was going to be a hot girl hot DOG walk.  

As I started my walk, I got a message from Steve, “you should be at the beach today dawg” with a screenshot of a text from one of his buddies who was in Wildwood. In the text was a picture of a sign on the beach that said, “HOT DOG DAY.”  Shit, it’s today? Why didn’t I know earlier? Now I feel bad that I’m missing hot dog day. Do I go get in my car and speed down to Wildwood? Is it worth it? What trials and tribulations would I face to get down there and back on a mid-summer, sunny Saturday?  

 While I continue to run the logistics in my head, I’m approaching the Ventnor City fishing pier. People stop up here to look up and down the coastline, taking a respite from their morning exercise to sit in repose and watch the surfers. People also come here to fish. On the pier is a snack bar. I’ve gotten things here before – a dirty monkey cold brew (YUM), a full sugar blue Gatorade or so on those days when I feel like the sun’s rays are blistering through to my organs, but today I noticed something else. There, blowing in the wind was a sign about 6 ft. tall. Does – does that say? Yes! “HOT DOGS” Hot damn!   

Be it confirmation bias or divine intervention I don’t care, I told myself I was going to get one of those dogs on my way back and so I did. Admittedly, I was a little embarrassed when I stepped up to the window. I timidly approached a Gen Z cashier with my visor, fanny pack and stupid ankle weights to order under my breath – I don’t want anyone else to know I’m getting a hot dog right now – is it even 11am? “Uh, do you guys have hot dogs back there?” “Sure!” Ok, they were nice about it. Possibly I’m not the only degenerate on the shoreline.  I can’t be – they’re having a whole goddamn hot dog DAY down in the wild of woods.  

I was handed back a foil-wrapped cylinder. I greedily grabbed some packets of yellow mustard off the counter in front of me and shimmied up the pier to take a seat and dog down. This dog, in contrast to Di’s, was definitely a boiler. I say that with no shade and also no proof! But I could just tell. Something about the way the bun stuck to it perhaps. Instantly, I was transported to my childhood. Looking at that sweaty glizzy reminded me of the many, many sweatier foil-wrapped boys me and sister would eat at Phantoms games when we were little. I didn’t even use condiments back then, but I’m grown now. I balanced the hot dog between my thighs and giddily tore open my mustard pack upon it. Before eating (inhaling? This was another 2-biter easy) I held my pier dog against the backdrop of the Atlantic Ocean to snap a pic with pride.  

*Find the food truck on IG as @disdogsandburgers!

Hot Dogs as the Quintessential Summer Food

There must be a reason I chose this food to study this time of year. Summer and wieners feel synonymous – they’re associates. They go together as well as any other tried and true seasonal treat combo. Some analogies to further explain: 

Hot Dogs are to Summer as Pumpkin Spice is to Fall.  

Hot Dogs are to Summer as Hot Chocolate is to Winter.   

Hot Dogs are to Summer as Shamrock Shakes are to March (ok – maybe this one is just for me, but I hope I’ve made myself clear).   

As a “seasonal offering” girlie, I do also know that there are multiple “in season” items for Summer – the bounty of fruit, the superabundance of ice cream cones – however, in my opinion the hot dog stands strongest as the symbol of those “dog days*” of the year.   

*Noting here that I believe “dog days” refers to an astrological placement which occurs annually in August, but because the term is so on the nose, I will use it here to defend my position.  

So, why is this? I took to the collective to help me answer and the reasons are many:   

Holly, original champion of my blog, feels that glizzies are, “best when grilled at the BBQ.” I shun no dog as we will soon learn, but I do agree with Hol here. Something about an open flame crisping up the outside of those faded, gelatinous tubes takes their flavor and snap to the next level. But when is BBQ time? – Yes, BBQ season is most often equated with summer and the summer holidays.    

This recalls another wiener-related movie quote. Any millennial girlie is familiar with Legally Blond and it’s many, notable quotes. From Elle Woods herself – “What? Like it’s hard?” and “the bend and snap!” – a move as I child I was led to believe I would use a ton as an adult woman, but never did. That might be why I’m here writing about goddamn meat-waste tubes every week instead of doing something…else, but I digress. The one quote that stands out to me and rings in my ears every summer is from Jennifer Coolidge’s character Paulette Bonafonte. When Elle is going down to D.C. to join a Representative to work on a new bill and set up the plot for Legally Blonde 2, she is wearing a starred and striped scarf around her neck. Paulette sees her and says, “oh my God. You look like the Fourth of July!” She proceeds to sigh through the next line, “makes me wanna hot dog real bad.” Honestly, same.  

Please also see, “camping.” Kafi of my MBA cohort praised the campfire dog and Rob (Holly’s boyfriend) sent me a gorgeous photo of a dog against a tree-lined, summer sunset. Camping, while the brave and more adventurous of us will go any time of year, I think is also closely related to the summer season.   

Me and a group of friends take an annual camping trip to Knoebel’s every summer. These trips are the only experience with camping I have ever really had which is why my mind goes camping --> summer. In our younger years, we used to bring packs upon pack of dogs to share. All kinds! Smart dogs, spicy dogs, regular degular dogs. At the end of the night, once us city kids finally got a fire rolling, we would slice those limp, watery packs. With some fresh, wooden (sometimes we’d spring for metal) roasting skewers, we would take turns stabbing the dogs up the center with the skewers (so satisfying) and twirl them above the flames (so entrancing). Maybe we even had hot dog sword fights. Try to make your opponent drop their dog from their skewer down into the fiery depths. We are always the only childless adults on the campground we can do what the fuck we like! Quiet hours, who? Alas - nowadays, 8 or 9 Knoebel’s summers later - we all just sit around that same fire, full on park food, drinking beer and trying to stay up until at least midnight. Please see photo of me below trying to keep my sagging eyes open just not to be the first person to retire their tent. Still in my aging, sleepy brain - the memories of the bubbling, charred meat whistles live on.    

They are “closely associated with baseball games” says Holly and Steve (one of Jim’s good buddies, on my side of the hot dog debate and the first to put me on to the Royal Tavern Dog Days) agreed. Baseball is the most important (only?) American sport of the summer season, with wieners starring as the “flagship” food of the game. I mean, there’s a whole brand called “Ball Park”! Dollar Dog nights at the games became so outrageous last year that Citizen’s Bank Park had to downgrade to a BOGO Dog night which is an outrage. Too much of a good thing? Though I still participated in a BOGO dog night this year, my heart is heavy with rue at the loss of Dollar Dog Night. Can you feel it? One of my later entries will be about the September Phillies v. Rays game that I spent dedicated to trying all the ~special~ dogs in the park so stay tuned for that.   

Virginia (Holly’s childhood friend) concurred with all of the above points and noted one more – portability! “You can eat it with one hand with a drink in the other.” Choosing a hot dog at the BBQ is a choice for freedom which is funny since I’m pretty sure that all those summer holidays represent just that in one way or another. They can be eaten “any and everywhere” not to mention quickly, (I can easily finish a standard frank in 3-4 bites; no spillage) so that you can keep on partying. And is that not the overall vibe of the summertime?    

Lastly, is there another time of year you would even dare consider a corn dog? State Fairs, boardwalks and amusement parks – all the places you might be lucky enough to find yourself in the summer – offer these cornmeal coated, deep fried beauties.   

I don’t want to pigeon-hole the mighty hotdog. I am simply trying to both understand and illustrate why hotdogs are so crucial to the summer gourmand such as myself. However, with yesterday marking the first day of fall here in Philadelphia and new & more suggestions of where to get a glizzy cropping up from my peeps every day, it seems my experiment – nay - my duty to the dog must continue! Hot Dogs: quintessential year-round food? We shall see.  

Royal Tavern

On July 25th, Ellie and I spent $100 together on hot dogs LOL. 

When I first announced that I was going to do this dog-undertaking, multiple people ran into my DMs to let me know that Royal Tavern was doing a “Dog Days of Summer,” For the month of July, they were releasing 4-5 new specialty dogs to their menu every week. I had learned about this just in the nic of time and would return twice in one week.

That Christmas in July Thursday, Ellie took my spin class at Fitness Works, and we walked over to the Royal Tavern together afterward. There is something that feels fun and naughty about completely negating your workout by bingeing on something after the fact. That night was not the last time I would do that in this series.

The spot was PACKED when we arrived, so we waited next door at The Dive to have a beer while we waited for a table to open. Once we finally got seated (it didn’t take long at all. I actually ended up having to chug my beer at The Dive before heading back to Royal Tavern), we ordered a couple MORE beers – there was a special Half Acre beer pairing menu (which the pour of mine I totally effed up) - an order of fries, duh, and two hot dogs each.

I should take this moment to express that I feel as though ONE hot dog – is a snack. TWO hot dogs – suffices as a meal. THREE hot dogs – you're probably going to feel sick.

We had 5 options to choose from that week, the final week, of Dog Days of Summer. I did The Philly, which came with a fish cake and a cherry pepper relish and a Hawaiian which I don’t think I have to explain. Both exceeded my expectations! The glizzies being slung at Royal Tavern were homemade with a natural casing. I detected that because they were homemade, they had a special and superior flavor to them; topping independent. The dogs also had a good snap to them. There was no sog to the bun even with all they had going on on top.

The Philly dog is what really intrigued me. The Royal Tavern Instagram page described fish cakes as being a part of Philadelphia’s culinary heritage. I will dive a bit deeper into this as a part of my tangential research, but more on that later maybe. El also did the Philly and the Seattle which I saved for my return to the Tavern the following Monday.  

There was not a single person in the bar that evening who WASN’T eating a hot dog. People were sharing so they could taste as many as possible. I’ve never seen a wiener cut in half, nor would I condone it, but I understand that people had to make conservative choices to make room in their stomach for all. These dogs were the main menu event – how many were Royal Tavern stuffing a night?! Their Dog Days finale post mentioned that they ended up selling 5,213 total. Wow.  

That following Tuesday, July 30th,  I returned to the Royal Tavern. I really didn’t want to lollygag with only two days left of special hot dogs and only two more to try!  This time I brought Jim. This is funny because my guy hates hot dogs. He thinks they are disgusting. I knew this long before I started this project, and I hope he hasn’t taken my dog-dedication personally. Probably not, since I’ve found him extremely supportive and has even choked down a few dogs with me in solidarity.

I wanted to save the “Seattle” for my visit with Jim since he had his own (negative) experience with them that I had been hearing about for the past year. Last summer he visited his friend Justin in Seattle. At the Mariner’s game it was suggested by Justin that Jim, “had to try” a Seattle dog. A real “when in Rome” recommendation. Jim was horrified, couldn’t finish it, couldn’t take a 2nd bite, had to eat something else just to get the taste of it out of his mouth. Boys are dramatic. Naturally, when I heard what was on it, I thought “yea, I'd bite that more than once” and here was my chance.  

Seattle Dog. Ingredients: Hog Dot, Bun, Cream Cheese (slathered). Topping additions and variations: grilled onions, pickled jalapenos.

NOW I am already a fan of a cream cheese and jalapeno combo. You’ve basically presented me with a popper hot dog and I’m not going to pass that up. It hit for me – 10/10. This night I also had a MOP dog – deep fried dog, pickle spear, mustard diced onions. I forget which Jim had, but I know he didn’t like it so what does it matter 😊  

One month of dog-exploration later and I still think Royal Tavern had the best. In the end ~$200 well-spent, but this was just the beginning.

Royal Tavern is on 937 E Passyunk Ave in South Philadelphia and on Instagram @royaltavern so you can go back and see all the different varieties they had offered this July!

An Introduction

When did I become so obsessed with hot dogs? 

It’s a question that echoed from the back of my mind when I first decided to move forward with this project. Honestly, I’m not sure I would have even moved forward with it had it not been for the overwhelmingly positive response I received from my friends and followers after my Instagram announcement. 

For those of you who missed my IG press release, on July 23’rd I declared that I was going to go on a Hot Dog Journey for the remainder of the summer season. Broad strokes – I took suggestions from the collective on restaurants, carts, dives that serve glizzies and have been trying as many as I can with as many friends as possible. The result of this journey is still taking shape. It’s more than just me reviewing the hot dogs I’ve eaten or experiences with them that I’ve had. There is a culture here that I would like to take the journalistic opportunity to really dig into. 

More questions, not unlike the ones I have asked at the top of this piece, have surfaced since my undertaking of this project.  

When did everyone become so obsessed with hot dogs? Philly Inquirer released a piece NOT TOO LONG after I started my research touting Philadelphia’s hot dog scene. Who knew.

Why are hot dogs considered the quintessential summer food?

Where did they come from? What’s their history?

Why “hot dog”? Were “wiener” or “frankfurter” insufficient or are those different territory entirely? 

Are hot dogs only for children?   

Regional hot dog toppings – i.e. how did the fine folks of Seattle decide they needed cream cheese on a hot dog? 

From my community I wanted to understand what some of their favorite toppings were to put on their hot dogs and when, where, how, why they wanted to enjoy them.   

Ordering hot dogs at a sit-down establishment feels forbidden to me. I’ve somehow equated it to going out and ordering a bowl of cereal. Why would you spend money on something you can make for yourself so easily?   

With that, are they an “appropriate” dinner item? Why or why not?

 Why do they get such a bad rap? Are they any worse for your health than any other “junk” food? Maybe they were once only made with scrap meat, but that must be mostly fallacious now as many grocery store packages read “all beef”!

For this question, a particular movie scene comes to mind. In M. Night Shyamalan’s The Happening (hey – more local flavor) Mark Wahlberg’s character is going to get a ride away from the apocalyptic events of metropolis with a nurseryman who has a theory that plant life is responsible for wreaking the recent havoc. ANYWAY, this man is packing hot dogs for the escape. He says, “Why do hot dogs get a bad rap? They got a cool shape, they got protein. You like hot dogs, right?” That scene has stayed with me for the past 15 years. It also made me think of 2 other questions:

How divisive are hot dogs? For every person I’ve met who really bangs with them, there has been another who is utterly disgusted AND

What are some other movie scenes, or anything having to do with modern pop culture that mentions hot dogs? 

I’ve made it my charge to try and answer these questions to the best of my ability, along with a sprinkling of short and sweet hot dog reviews.

Thank you all in advance for joining me here and support me/bearing witness via my Instagram. It’s already helped me to shake taboo I’ve had up until now to express how much I just really friggin’ like hot dogs, ok?! Maybe the truth is, I was always obsessed.