John Goes to Daddy’s, Cries for His Mommy
On the one hand, I should have known better. Daddy’s Dogs in Hull, MA, is only open during high beach season and their web site proudly announces their hot dog eating contest….in 2006. On the other hand, it’s part of a well-known restaurant called Daddy’s Beach Club, so it was really a coin toss. In a perfect world, a hot dog stand that faces the big blue Atlantic from across the street would be as perfect as one might imagine.
I probably should have backed away at the first sight of a $4 foot-long dog and $3 regulars, but as a Dog Blogger I sometimes have to fly in the face of my own reason. So I bellied up to the slightly grimy counter and ordered one Daddy Dog (the big guy) and one chili dog. Beyond that, your options are cheese, of the runny nacho sort, and….okay, well, that’s it. Straight, chili, or chili and cheese.
Holy mother of Dog, why didn’t I run when I had the chance?
As you can see from the above photo, they proudly serve Nathan’s hot dogs here. I can vouch for the small dog being of said pedigree, but I’m not so sure about the big one. Although I could see that they do all their work on the flat top, if I had to guess I’d think they actually carve the foot-longs out of cherry or mahogany. It’s the only thing, outside of a hefty and negligent dose of overcooking, that could explain this color on a hot dog.
Let it be noted that I came here after a long, crappy day at work. I wanted to have a walk along the beach and then, seeing that Daddy’s was open, figured what the heck? How bad could it be? It’s a freakin’ hot dog at the beach.
Talk about a bad day.
I topped the big dog with mustard, since my only other choices were onions, relish, or kraut from this:
So, yeah. Just mustard. As for the chili dog, it didn’t take an encased meat expert to tell that it wasn’t a good sign when the counter gal had to poke at it with her ladle to loosen it up. It was sitting in a bin on the flattop, so one might figure, you know, warmth.
I dove into the big one first. Overcooked, indeed. The large, dry-griddled bun tried to help but a) it could have used some butter and b) it was busy holding a big, overcooked hot dog. Then, adding insult to injury, I took a nice bite of the chili dog and was treated to, yes, quite cold chili. Again, maybe I should have known when the chili actively fought being put on the hot dog. But no, I had to taste it to learn the error of my ways. And I don’t mean this was a little less warm than one might like. It was, hey this chili is cold cold. Like, I should be ashamed to sell this chili cold.
I am sure that Daddy’s does a brisk business on hot summer days, selling to non-discerning, non-hot-dog-blogging folks whose only culinary criteria is the fact that it’s literally 50 yards from the beach. And maybe one of the little dogs, on such a day, with just a schmear of mustard would more or less hit the spot. I mean, it’s a Nathan’s dog, how bad can that be? (Under normal circumstances.) But this is not a spot for people who appreciate a good dog. What they do here would just make you cry. It makes me miss the old Joe & Nemo’s that was back down the beach a-ways. Those folks knew how to make a dog. Daddy’s doesn’t.
Nantasket Ave, Hull, MA