Salem’s a pretty crazy place during the run-up to Halloween, so I don’t know what I was thinking when I took my little brother Faisal there, but I did have two thoughts in my mind: first, checking out all the people who get crazy excited about the opportunity to wear witch costumes; and second, hitting up The Boston Hot Dog Co., which has a vocal and loyal clientele in the North Shore area.
It’s become a bit of a joke to Faisal every time I threaten him with a hot dog excursion, but this is the first time I’ve taken him out to a stand. I told him that he was going to have to help me review this place and he took it pretty seriously, although he still thinks I’m a little nuts. Here’s Faisal posing with one of the draws to the Boston Hot Dog Co.–their huge assortment of toppings. I didn’t get a proper look at the full range of condiments, but as best I can remember they had something like 15+ styles of dogs, so there must have been at least a couple of dozen toppings to choose from. I remember they had three different types of relish, so that should say enough.
The woman behind the counter was great, taking time out to talk about their dogs–at least until the place got busy, which happened pretty quickly. Before tending to the other customers, she convinced me that I needed to order one of their 1/4lb. angus beef hot dogs in addition to the other regular dog that I bought. That’s the dog you see above, covered with chili, cheese, mustard and slaw. The angus beef dog did quite a bit to boost the flavor, and was perfectly paired for the topping selection. The chili wasn’t as spicy as I’d like, but that didn’t matter much because the slaw wasn’t too sugary and didn’t throw off the flavor. After having a taste of the dog, Faisal was pretty jealous and wished he had gotten an angus dog, too. Overall, the dog came together nicely with a hearty and beefy flavor, something much different than the light and spicy slaw dogs I’ve had before.
Since Faisal was my colleage in hot dogs for the day, he had to take an action shot of me taking on the slaw dog. This was by far the messiest dog I had there, and when I stood up I found I had coleslaw all over my pants and the chair. Maybe I shouldn’t get a bib for future visits . . . .
My next dog was a Chicago style, the flavor of which I found to be a little too sharp, because it was topped with dijon mustard which I’m not a big fan of. The other toppings were fantastic, however, so next time I order one I’ll have to ask to substitute regular yellow mustard. It’s sad, how I keep chasing the dream of finding a great Chicago dog in Boston, but inevitable none-the-less.
Faisal got himself a couple of dogs with chili, mustard, and sweet onion relish, which I thought were pretty amazing but his envy of my angus dog won out and he considered the slaw dog to be the best we’d sampled. Faisal’s a little different than most thirteen-year-olds in that he’s not that into sweets, however, so the sweet onion relish probably wasn’t the best topping to choose. I thought the blend with the hearty chili really drew the flavors together, and the frank was subtle enough of a flavor that the toppings won out.
After a couple of hot dogs, we went to the Peabody-Essex Museum to check out their display of recycled art, but on our way to the exhibit we caught a beatboxing tournament which provided us with quite a bit of fun. The emcee was really haranguing the crowd, trying to get people to participate because at the time he only had two people on stage ready to battle it out. In the end he got another handful of people, including a guy well past his prime who did the strangest of jigs while trying to imitate the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire. Needless to say, he was booed off the stage and did his jerky dance while leaving.
The recycled art exhibit was pretty awesome. Can you guess what this cute and cuddly bunny is made of? If you guessed cigarette filters, you’re right! I could snuggle all night long with this stinky little rabbit whose helped send off hundreds of smokers to their doom.
For those hot dog lovers living north of Boston, if you haven’t been to Fred’s Franks then it’s time to get off your keister and treat yourself to some finely grilled encased meats. Fred’s is my regular hot dog stand, and the regular for many more living and working in the Wakefield area–including all the nine-to-fivers working in the office building adjacent to Fred’s stand and making it a habit of taking lunch there, you know who you are! Perhaps the most amazing part of visiting Fred’s stand, however, is seeing the poor guy who decided to challenge Fred to his territory and set up a sausage cart. You’ll see the evidence of his doom in the two pictures below, taken during my most recent lunch-time visit.
just a few minutes after noon for Fred's and already a couple of dozen dogs sold
meanwhile, working on his tan and having plenty of time for a conversation is the sausage vendor
So what’s the difference? Well, Fred’s got his secret weapon, the big green egg. This thing is so hot it cranks out a finely-grilled dog in just a few minutes, giving a Pearl frank a wonderfully snappy, smoky casing. He’s also got a great lineup of encased meats: 1/8 lb. regular hot dogs, 1/4 lb. “jumbo” dogs, and 1/2 lb. monster dogs–all Pearl franks–and an assortment of chorizo, linguica, and keilbasa. It’s not on the menu, but my staple–and the only dog I’ve tried, to tell the truth–is the schnurble. Topped with his “ying yang” condiment mix (mayo, Chohula hot sauce, sweet cabbage, and chopped raw white onions) this 1/8 lb. Pearl all-beef frank and half a link of chorizo concoction is enough to make my day perfect.
Last, but certainly not least, Fred’s not-so-secret formula for success is having a few things that he does well, and keeps doing them consistently well. It’s enough to bring a tear to my eye, just thinking of cranking out perfection like this, day in and day out.
all hail the big green egg!
Fred’s will only be open until October 31st, maybe a little bit into November if the weather holds, but he’s taking email addresses from people and, if he decides the winter weather is right, will be opening a few times during the season. I’m assuming he’s looking at expanding his hours and possibly shifting base of operations for the winter, but there’s something perfect about eating a perfectly-grilled dog while standing on the Wakefield waterfront, especially with the fall colors in full peak on an Indian summer day.
a cross section of two meats, blissfully wedded
you can't beat it!
Once every 50 years comes a blog entry so huge, so monumental, and so belly-extending, that no one man can write the post. In this very special episode, Mike and Alex, and guest starring Sam and Ali, eat their way from Queens to Brooklyn to Manhattan. There was so much eating, limiting the post to hot dogs would be an injustice. But there are many hot dogs. First stop: Citi Field!
The 1,000 mile journey begins with the first step
Labor Day weekend. Mets vs. Cubs. Mets lost. Mike is happy. It was a beautiful day. 1,000 degrees in the sun, so we had to move over a few sections. Mike and a Mets fan chatted about blind spots on the field. Is Citi Field constructed well? You decide. But everyone is happy with encased meats at a ballgame!
Mike finds that magic moment...
Classic Nathan's with relish
Only 310 calories? I found a new diet.
Alex goes for the Premio sausage sandwich with peppers & onions
Next stop after Citi Field was Beer Table in Park Slope, Brooklyn. This place is like a wine bar, but for beer. They had about 3 drafts available that day, and a large menu of bottles. I seem to remember that one was made with fermented rice that was harvested by prisoners in Italy. I mean, I’ve heard about prison wine, but this seemed to be legit. I (Alex) got a bottle of ginger beer, since I hate beer. This was particularly awesome and tasted like fresh ginger and soda.
I (Mike) was a bit more adventuresome and tasted the prison beer. It was delicious, but at $18 a pour, I was beginning to wonder if we were subsidizing the Italian prison system. The beer menu was very impressive, with the majority of beers coming from Europe, and the server was willing to let us taste any of the four beers on tap (which I did). I’d love to come back here next time I visit the A’s but would need to bring more money to support my tastes.
Love and beer
From there, the group went to dinner at my favorite burger joint, Bonnie’s Grill, but unfortunately we have no pictures of of the spiced black angus sirloin burgers. These are pretty spectacular burgers, and the wings are quite wonderful as well. It’s a bit of a 50’s modern-retro looking place; we sat at the counter behind the one guy grilling up everything. Old punk, rock, soul, and rockabilly are usually played over the soundsystem.
burger nirvana
After dinner we hit up Uncle Louie G’s Italian Ices. The best ices. Tons of flavors you would usually not associate with ices, like peanut butter chocolate chip, cannoli, creamsicle, root beer, etc. Mike and Sam are won over. (Sam keeps talking about opening an Uncle Louie G’s franchise in Boston) Thus ends Day 1.
Sam and Mike are completely stunned by refreshing ices.
Day 2 began as most weekends do in Brooklyn–late and with the participants a little hung over. After an easy morning spent lounging in our underwear, we split our party in twain as Mike & Alex decided it was a little late to begin with breakfast. These he-men of the hot dog world could only begin their day with one thing: encased pig meat.
Alex & I had a plan for that day that the women just couldn’t jive with: beer, hot dogs, beer, Vietnamese sandwiches, bourbon, then more hot dogs. Sounds like the perfect day, right? Hells yeah!
Heartburn for breakfast?
We started at Bark Hot Dogs, a short walk from Alex’s apartment and one of the newest hot dog stands in NYC; it could easily be considered an artisan hot dog stand, serving dogs cooked in lard & butter alongside craft beer. Figuring that it would be easier to start the day by fooling myself (and my stomach) into thinking that hot dogs can be considered breakfast food, I ordered a chorizo breakfast sandwich to go with my chili cheese hot dog and Sixpoint Craft Ales pale ale. Hey, it was something like 12:01, so there’s nothing wrong with beer for breakfast . . . .
Chili Cheese Dog and Breakfast Chorizo Sandwich
this guy had the cleanest plate in the building
The chorizo breakfast sandwich was my favorite, an egg atop a heaping of shredded lettuce, avocado and fried chorizo, served on an english muffin. The chorizo fat soaked into the english muffin, the perfect cure for a hangover. The hot dog itself was smoky and easily the best part of the combo; the toppings were just a little too fancy for me. I prefer on my chili dog chopped white, not red, onions and the chili was too heavily spiced with what I believe were chipotles. That said, I don’t think it was a bad dog, just a dog that reached a little too far, and I believe that the chorizo breakfast sandwich shows how good their creations are.
Bark Dog with Sweet Pepper Relish and Breakfast Chorizo Sandwich
Eco -friendly hot dog garbage
The ladies approve of the men's hot dog breakfast.
After Sam & Ali made their appearance, we again split into two groups. Since we had to digest breakfast before moving along to Vietnamese sammiches, Alex & I made a detour to another pub so we could sit outside and enjoy the beautiful weather we were having on Labor Day. While resting ourselves we got to speak with the bartender who was reading some book on how to enjoy sex–I figured that’s the kind of thing you don’t need a book to tell you to do, but hey, whatever. Maybe she was just trying to advertise . . . .
Taking advantage of happy hour after breakfast at the Black Sheep Pub.
After discussing the finer points of love-making over pints of ale and cider, Alex and I took a long walk to Nicky’s Vietnamese Sandwiches in Brooklyn. We’ve been trying to make time enough to go there, but the ladies are never interested enough to take a half-hour walk for the best Banh Mi in New York. Alex introduced me to these porky delights a few years ago on a previous trip, I believe that time we had stopped by a place near the Village but he might correct me on that. Either way, Vietnamese Sandwiches are freaking amazing and if you haven’t tried one, you absolutely need to. Imagine the most delicious french baguette with a beautifully crunch crust and light-as-air bread, and add to it a heavenly trio of pork–pork pate, Vietnamese ham, and roasted ground pork–sprigs of cilantro, pickled carrots, cucumber, slivers of jalapenos, and mayo. Just to make sure I don’t leave without finishing my mango juice, I add a healthy amount of Sriracha to my sandwich.
the sandwich made in pork heaven
Check out the glazed look in Mike's eyes. His pleasure sensors have been activated and all thinking has ceased.
The fiery and necessary Sriracha condiment.
So you’d think we’d be full after all this, right? I mean, at that point it was only three in the afternoon and we were already a little tipsy off of pork and alcohol. Well, if you thought that you’d be wrong!
For one thing, we were no where near drunk enough. After taking the train into Manhattan we set off to find New York Hot Dog & Coffee, a stand in the West Village that Alex had heard about serving Korean food atop a hot dog. Who’s to argue with putting bulgogi and kimchi on a hot dog? Before we went for another round of pork, however, Alex and I had to steel ourselves with bourbon.
Knob Creek on the rocks
The mighty full-flavored Bulgogi dog, with kimchee!
The saddest moment is when you're left with an empty hot dog sleeve
I think the draw for this stand is their cafeteria-like display of plastic hot dogs that draws you in off the street. I’ve never seen a green hot dog before, or at least an edible one, so when I saw that several of their fake hot dogs were green I’ll admit it piqued my interest. Unfortunately it was all a gigantic tease; their hot dogs were all the run-of-the-mill pink types (beef, I believe).
come here, my beautiful plastic hot dogs
a fake green hot dog with plastic kimchi
Now this may seem one of two ways to you guys, but I’ll admit that Alex and I shared a hot dog. It’s something I never intended to go when the day began, but our significant others had made the “we’re bored and you need to come home” phone call while Alex and I were tippling in the bar. We were making our way back to meet the ladies and walked past the hot dog stand. With tears in our eyes, Alex and I were ready to admit defeat and continue walking past. Liquid courage won over fear of womanly retribution at our intransigence, and we bravely marched in and ordered one bulgogi hot dog. Sitting down in their odd bubble room in the back, Alex gingerly sawed the dog in twain while I nervously glanced about, worried that our state of satiation–forcing us to split the dog–might be mistaken for a date. After the first bite of the bulgogi and kimchi hot dog, I had two regrets: first, that I would just be eating half of the dog; and second, that eating a whole one would result in its immediate regurgitation. Not knowing what to expect I was blown away by the dog: the bulgogi was sweet and spicy, the kimchi had a sour bite, the beef dog had a smoky flavour, and the bun was light and airy.
proof that America is a melting pot
After drunkenly stumbling back to Chelsea and the hotel Sam & I were staying in, Alex and I parted ways. I don’t think it was because he had anywhere to be, really–it was, after all, the Sunday of Labor Day weekend and the bon temps could have kept on roulez. My bet is that he couldn’t stand the idea of what Sam & I were going to do after they left: see, there’s this really great Thai place in Chelsea that I wanted to eat dinner at . . . .
Alex is getting ready for an Aliens-like stomach explosion & Mike's brain has been locked in a permanent state of bliss from all the seratonin released that day
The first international post! I recently went to Argentina for my summer vacation. It’s legendary for its beef, delicious steaks, and sweet sweet dulce de leche. So of course I found a hot dog stand and had to try it!
Most places seemed to refer to hot dogs as ‘panchos.’ I don’t know if that’s the official term there, but that’s what I ordered at different places. Pancho Hot was located in the Recoleta section of Buenos Aires. I was very intrigued when I saw the menu for various salsas.
I didn’t really know what most of the ingredients were so I just ordered two panchos with 2 salsas. I watched as the guy took two steamed dogs and slather them with multicolored mayonnaises.
So what I basically got were two long steamed dogs on dry buns slathered with strange tasting sauces with a mayo-like consistency. I ate one, took a bite of the other then threw it away. But hey, I only paid about $3.
I also found another place called Peter’s Hot Dogs in a neighborhood called Palermo Soho. I didn’t go in but thought I’d get a photo.
Fortunately, my encased meat search greatly improved. My next stop after Buenos Aires was a town 1000 miles southwest of BA called San Carlos De Bariloche, where I would ski for the next 5 days at Cerro Catedral.
I stayed at a cool hostel for a couple of days and met a guy named Javier, who was from Buenos Aires but had travelled to Bariloche to learn how to ski. During one day of skiing, we took a break to get some lunch. He ordered something called a ‘choripan’ which I later figured literally translates as ’sausage bread,’ but is basically a sausage sandwich.
I ordered a pancho with ketchup and mustard. Thankfully, it appeared to be grilled and had a nice snap to it. The guy at the counter was so friendly, and surprise surprise, could tell by my accent that castellano (spanish) was not my first language. When I got the pancho, it looked hilariously oversized in a short bun, and definitely had a nice smile.
My final food adventure was dinner at a restaurant in Bariloche called El Boliche de Alberto. There are many restaurants in Argentina which say “Parrilla” out front. This translates to grill, steak house, grillroom, etc. I didn’t know which restaurant to go to but Javier said he knew this place to be where we wanted to go. Well, the first good sign was the cowhide menu.
But then I noticed the grill station in the middle of the restaurant. At this point, the heavens parted and I could swear I heard angels singing.
Everything looked and smelled great. I spied a big platter of sausage and blood sausage.
We hadn’t even gotten a table yet but I felt like I couldn’t control myself. We finally got to our table, ordered a bottle of wine; Javier ordered lamb chops and I got a half order porterhouse and a chorizo. Chorizo translates to sausage, but isn’t the type of Spanish spiced sausage. I did not order the blood sausage and am regretting it now.
It was beautifully grilled with perfect flavor. The great mixture of char and meat, without being too strongly spiced. I should have gotten more than one, but I wanted to leave room for the steak! Half porterhouse with papas and the ’so delicious I could drink it by itself’ chimichurri.
I’m salivating while looking at this picture. Everything on this plate was incredible. The steak had great grill marks, was juicy and full of flavor, and was made even more delicious with that tangy chimichurri. That stuff is great on anything. The trip was incredible and I was fortunate to find some great food. I prefer good ole’ U.S. of A. hot dogs, but Argentina is the clear winner of amazing steaks.
Friends have been telling me for years that I need to eat at Flo’s Hot Dogs on Route 1 in Maine. I didn’t know this until now, but there’s two locations, one in Kittery and the original, which I visited, in Cape Neddick. I must have been lucky, because waits can be very long (2 hours in this Serious Eats review) but well worth it.
Flo, the original proprietor, was a little cranky–or so the story goes. A quick New England wit with a razor-sharp tongue, Flo must have made many grown men ashamed that they ever thought to ask for ketchup on their hot dog. All I can say is, good for her!
Gail Stacey, Flo’s daughter-in-law, keeps up the tradition but I found her to be as sweet as pie. She’s the only one who works the stand, and regardless of how many orders that kept coming through the door she was willing to take the time out to talk to me.
What makes the dog a genuine Flo’s Hot Dog is the hot sauce relish. It’s so popular that they’ve set up an eBay store so you can buy it online.
The inside of the stand has eight or so counter seats and room enough for ten people to wait. The ceiling’s pretty low, as you can see in the picture, but for hobbits like us it felt like we were in our quaint little under-hill home, ready to smoke some good Halfling’s Leaf.
There’s two ways you can get your Flo’s dog: loaded, with relish, mustard, and onions; or the special, which is most popular, with mayo, relish, celery salt, and mustard. The dogs are steamed natural-casing Old Neighborhood franks which have a snub-nose rather than the tapered casing. The buns are steamed split top New England-style, and the end product is wrapped up in a Flo’s napkin and placed in a cardboard container.
Making its debut appearance on The Hot Dog I Ate is our new Prius, which you can see over my right shoulder. No dogs eaten in there yet but that’s sure to happen. To the right of the Prius is one happy guy. Flo’s relish is more remeniscent of chutney than relish, with a sweetness that is heightened by the mayonnaise; if you get it loaded, the relish tends to show off more of its spice with the combination of raw onions.
The cross-section of Flo’s loaded dog shows how compacted the whole thing gets in your hand–I’m guessing a competitive eater would appreciate that the dogs seem to collapse in on themselves while retaining all of the condiments with no spillage.
Some kinda good is right–I felt pretty lucky to have hit up the stand at just the right time, so Sam & I were able to get time to talk to Gail, grab a few dogs, and get a spot to sit and enjoy these New England favorites.
After leaving Scranton, Sam and I had a host of adventures: the Luray Caverns with their crazy stalacpipe organ; almost barfing in the vertigo-inducing tunnel of Wonder Works; backpacking the Smokies and having the cute woodland creatures eat half of a lunch and breakfast while we slept; drinking our faces off in Asheville; the hot springs of the aptly named Hot Springs, North Carolina; visiting with my fabulous great-aunt and uncle, eating twice at their restaurant the Pancake Pantry; and playing Hillbilly golf with my parents.
After all that fun Sam and I were betting on an uneventful trip back home to New England–it’s hard to sustain that much pleasure over nine days. But dammit, fun has a way of finding and biting us in the ass, because we just happened to stumble upon Skeeter’s “World-Famous Hot Dogs” in Wytheville, Virginia while looking for a place to have lunch.
Off of the exit from I-81 there were tons of cutsey signs on the roadside directing traffic to different restaurants–the only of these that I remember that wasn’t a chain restaurant was Skeeter’s. It shone like a brilliant star in an otherwise dead and dull sky, beckoning me towards the light.
Apparently Skeeter’s is located in the childhood home of Woodrow Wilson’s wife, Edith Bolling Wilson. Be that as it may, I didn’t come to raid the panty drawer of some long-gone First Lady–I wanted to grab ahold of a Skeeter-Dog and never let go!
Skeeter-Dogs are the slaw dogs that West Virginia is so well-known for: a steamed hot dog & bun with chopped raw onions, mustard, chili sauce, and coleslaw to top it all off. Skeeters uses a red hot made by Valleydale, which is what the hanging weenie above is advertising. Apparently Valleydale was located near Wytheville but now is much further away; so far, in fact, that Skeeter’s has to order a very large amount of red hots just to get their stand supplied. Lucky for them they seem to be the most popular hot dog stand in the surrounding area, having sold over 7 million hot dogs since they opened in 1920.
Skeeter’s was a no-frills hot dog stand–my favorite type. A couple of older ladies took the orders while a young woman (pictured above) kicked out the orders. As you can see above, to her right she had the steamer brimming with red hots, in front of her was the pot of chili and a couple of trays for the onions, and to her left was a tupperware container filled with cheese sauce. Simplicity at its best.
I ordered one of each dog on the menu: an original Skeeter-Dog, and a Skeeter-Dog with cheese. I ate the cheese dog first and was happy to have done so–the cheese dulled the finely-blended flavor of the spicy chili sauce and the creamy coleslaw, but it didn’t neuter the flavor enough that I didn’t enjoy it.
A quick aside: I’ve been reading the West Virginia Hot Dog Blog religiously for some time now. I drool unconsciously while imagining the prospect of a great slaw dog joint around every corner, and aspire for our blog to be every bit as great as theirs. Having gotten as close to West Virginia as we did (I-81 runs though, and then parallel, to the state for many, many miles) and not try a slaw dog was pretty tough to handle, but our schedule demanded it. Eating the original Skeeter-Dog made up for our lack of diversion to West Virginia–it was amazing! As I took my first bite the heavens parted and displayed the wonders that lay in the great beyond. In short, there may be no dog as great as the slaw dog.
a Skeeter-Dog cross-section
If you can’t already tell, I was pretty happy with our side-trip to Skeeter’s “World Famous Hot Dogs”. I can’t imagine a better hot dog to end the trip with; it left me feeling that, even though I was leaving the south and the great state of Virginia, I was going to be tasting that hot dog for many more miles down the road.
My apologies to all for having such a hot dog-less July. The reaction from my friends has been just shy of accusing me of hot dog heresy for not having celebrated the 4th of July properly, but I must remind you that is Samantha’s & I’s anniversary. I think Sam deserves a little bit better than a hot dog to celebrate–that, and we were hiking hut to hut in the White Mountains of New Hampshire on the 4th, so there weren’t many hot dog stands we could hit up.
In order to make up for my lack of attention to the wonder of encased meats, I dedicated myself to finding a couple of great hot dog stands to visit while traveling on our most recent vacation, a backpacking trip in the Smoky Mountains. Many thanks to my friend AP for giving me my first destination when she shared this blog post from Serious Eats, all about a type of hot dog I had never heard of before: The Texas Weiner.
If you’ve never heard of it before, to condense Serious Eats’ post, the Texas Weiner is a version of the coney dog originating from Greek-owned restaurants. Where coney dogs have a steamed (or grilled) dog and meat chili, the texas weiner has either a fried or split & grilled hot dog with a Greek-spiced version of chili.
The Texas Weiner is a regional hot dog, centralized in Philadelphia, and I was lucky enough to be driving through an area that had an old and revered institution that’s been serving up the Texas Weiner since 1923: Coney Island Lunch, located in Scranton PA.
The diner is a pretty unassuming place with what looks to be the kind of storefront reserved for pet stores, with it’s big glass windows and sawdust-lined flooring. Once you get inside it’s a diner that’s obviously been decorated by a man with a passion for baseball–specifically, for the New York Yankees and the St. Louis Cardinals. Knowing that Pete, the owner, had this predilection for America’s favorite pasttime, I came decked out in my Cubbies hat and ready to talk baseball.
Sam started off with another regional favorite, french fries smothered in gravy. Seems like a healthy enough appetizer before entering hot dog nirvana. Behind her you can see all the baseball paraphanelia–the place was just covered in it, which was fantastic.
When the dogs came, they looked more like sloppy joes than hot dogs, since they’re served on a deli bun and the sauce is dripping out of the edges–I couldn’t even see the hot dog until I opened the hood.
Sloppy joes, n’est pas?
Not to worry, the dog’s just hiding under all that sauce.
After eating two Texas Weiners, Sam gave me a choice: I could have one more dog or a piece of pie. Of course I went with the extra dog.
Sam gave the thumbs up to her Texas Weiner!
On the way out of town we were riding behind this van, which was for a very oddly named donut store. Wish we would have had time to look into whether or not they actually use curry in their donuts.
The next stop will be a stand we stumbled upon while coming back from the Smokies, Skeeter-Dogs in Wytheville, Virginia, home of the world-famous Skeeter-Dog and my first real slaw dog.
I’m entering pt. 2 of July 4th weekend first because I have all the pictures. Part 1 will arrive shortly I hope.
Jim and I made July 5th plans to go get some dogs. He told me about a new place that opened up next to Peter Luger’s Steakhouse. Although he couldn’t offer any other info about the place, I was game because I didn’t want to go back into Manhattan for the third day in a row. The day started off when I met him, Herve & Monica at a bar next to his apartment called Macri Park. Apparently they were talking to a guy named Marcos about this blog. We started talking and he had much praise about the idea and existence of a hot dog blog. He talked to me about a some hot dog vocabulary among him and his friends. Every Sunday, they ‘go dergin’ ‘ or cook up some ‘dergs.’ While I have no picture of their dergs, here’s a shot of Marcos. Check out his music blog, Acid Test DJ’s.
We left shortly after that and drove to the area where the place is. While we didn’t know the name, Jim would be able to recognize it by sight. And there it was; a modern recreation of a 70’s-ish style facade. The place was called Thank Dog. Alright! Looks cool! We park the car and walk up and realize it doesn’t quite resemble a food establishment. Upon closer inspection we realized it was a dog supply store and groomer. “Oh shit!” said Jim. “I’ve actually only seen this place from the train.” It should be noted that the train is about 100 yards away and 2 or 3 stories above ground.
What has 2 thumbs and f****ed up today?
Herve and Monica panic at the thought of no hot dogs
In order to redeem himself, Jim quickly suggested going for some Vietnamese sandwiches. Ah, the other kind of sandwich I can’t turn down. So we took a quick drive down to Nha Toi.
We ordered 3 classic sandwiches, which usually has about 2 or 3 different kinds of pork (ham, pork pate), pickled carrots, and possibly cucumber. Jim and Herve ordered Dragonfruit sodas, which tasted a little smoky and kind of like coffee. I got Thai iced tea.
Pork and carrots on a baguette
We had a great lunch despite the fact that no encased meats were involved.
Nha Toi 160 Havemeyer Street, Brooklyn NY 11211
It’s been raining for weeks. What the frig? Yet people are willing to stand in the rain for over an hour checking out naked mermaids. I went with Hans and his friend Mike down to Coney Island for the the 27th annual Mermaid Parade. I was skeptical about going because I don’t like standing around in the rain, and I’m not a big fan of Coney Island. But this was a lot of fun and we had a great time. Hans told Mike that I write for the blog, and Mike told me his favorite hot dogs were from a place called Dash Dogs, in Manhattan, which closed down a while back. We made plans to hit up Nathan’s after the parade. So first, some photos of the parade, and then some dogs.
Blue Thunder opening up the parade!
One of the better nude participants
I wish I was...big.
The very lovely 'Out of Work Supermodels'
the best hammer pants in the whole parade
Rev. Billy from the Church of Stop Shopping
So from what Hans told me, there’s a King and Queen of the parade, who throw an offering of fruit into the ocean to appease the ocean gods. This year, the King was Harvey Keitel! And of course, my pictures of him suck, and you can’t tell it’s him. There was a fair amount of nudity, and there’s a lot of people who should not be nude in public. There were also lots of classic cars, great costumes, an entire troupe of the woman from Flashdance, and many people on stilts. And then we went to Nathans!
Will Joey Chesnutt successfully defend his title?
One side of the enormous Nathan's!
There were so many people here today because of the parade. We managed to go to one of the other sides and found smaller lines. I guess I never realized that you can get seafood here also. Frog legs? A frog legs platter? 1120 calories?
I'll take the frog legs with chili and cheese.
Long, long lines. Still not as bad as Shake Shack.
So I think that NYC is the only place in these here United States where you will find calorie counts on fast food menus (correct me if I’m wrong). Hans figured out that he will have to run for about 3 miles in order to work off the Bacon Cheese Dog.
So I order an Original, topped only with mustard, and a Chili Cheese Dog, and an old fashioned Orangeade. Hans and Mike both got Bacon Cheese Dogs.
Original and Chili Cheese
Bacon Cheese w/ mustard
Hans wishes he had another Bacon Cheese dog.
The carnivore at work.
Man with hangover eating Bacon Cheese dog.
Back at Fenway again? Hells yeah! Sam & I went out to the ballpark last night to watch the Sox tear into the Marlins. I was amazed to see a family of Marlins fans sitting in front of us–whenever you watch a home game with the Rays or the Marlins it seems like they have to pay people to get them in the stands. They were dyed-in-the-wool fans, though, and were so upset at the 8 – 2 score that by the top of the eighth they left the park. Didn’t they want to sing along with Neil Diamond?
To start the night out proper, we had a couple of drinks and some vegetarian nachos at my favorite pre-game hipster watering hole, The Other Side. You might ask yourself why I would order vegetarian nachos–well, they’re pretty slamming nachos, and I certainly didn’t want too much meat getting in the way of a night spent engorging myself with piggies and cow beefs.
The night at Fenway started with me beelining it to the kosher hot dog vending machine. Since my last visit the machine has added a new trick to its repetoire: it’s scoring the hot dogs! Just a little slit down the length of the dog makes all the difference in the world. I’m assuming the reason why they’ve started doing this is to release a little bit of the juices from the dog, which bled into the bun a little and added some flavor. Anyway, this was Sam’s first time of seeing the machine in action, so she got the front seat to watch the craziness.
I offered Sam a bite with a little bit of trepidation at sharing.
Sam had some trepidation of her own, not sure at how the dog would taste (delicious!).
Trepidation be gone! It’s a winner in her book.
After grabbing a few cups of beer (Guinness, how I love you!) Sam made her most important stop–at the kettle corn stand. I think she peed her pants a little, she was so excited.
(Insert three innings, during which Papi hit a home run and I sat next to a guy who looked exactly like Bernie Madoff).
After a few rounds, Sam decided to get a sausage. She went to the vendor and asked if the sausages were any good. “They’re the best,” he said. Then this other guy asked him if the Monster Dogs were good. “They’re the best,” he said. Sam went with the sausage.
And she was transported into Nirvana.
A picture with the happy couple and their new addition to the family. I do wish we had sausage races at Fenway like my brother-in-law Kent says they do at Brewers games. Oh well, I guess I’ll have to make do with Neil Diamond.
After the game Sam found this amazing door tucked into a building along Mass Ave. Such pretty numbers!
And that’s all I have to say about that.
