Saturday, September 12, 2009

The Hot Dog and Us...



"a hot dog makes her lose control..."
Patty Duke Show Theme 1963-66



News that Scrantonians eat lots of hot dogs wasn't exactly a shocker to me. News that Terre Hautians probably love hot dogs isn't much of a headline either.

Americans love hot dogs.

While most all of the world's cultures have some sort of ground meat and spice stuffed into casings or otherwise shaped and formed, the hot dog is pretty much ours. You can call it the German-sounding frankfurter until you're chili sauce red in the face, but the hot dog as we know and love it is as American as corporate greed. Without bun, it's simply a type of sausage.

Once on or in a bun, it's a hot dog. I'd guess that what we now know as a hot dog became such because you could stuff it into some sort of bread, then cover all its inadequacies with mustard, onions, relishes, and even ketchup. Many consider ketchup on a hot dog a misstep demanding some sort of bloodletting punishment. Not me. I love ketchup on a hot dog. Ketchup up one side, mustard down the other.

I'm American. I love a hot dog.

Before we work on that dog, grill, fry, or boil it, then dress it, let's explain what happened right before Labor Day: Ball Park brand franks released its Top Ten Hot Dog Eating-est cities in the country and Scranton came up #8, a slot it was forced to share with Harrisburg. What's that all about?

NYC was #1, LA #2, and you can fill in the blanks by clicking on Top Ten above.

Here's a big problem; we deep-fry our hot dogs. Yep, Ball Park says we do. Again, what is that all about?

We don't deep-fry, of course. Now, now, wait, hold it a second. A deep-fried hot dog might be right fine, but it's a stranger to us. Flat-top fried is likely the method we all know best, because those Coney Island and Abe's dogs are done on the griddle. In the world of short order cookery, insiders call it a flat-top.

We can now go back to the best hot dog.

I've long had this theory, one with which I am not alone. Other hot dog lovers agree that, while some hot dogs may be better than others in terms of what's inside, and you really never do want to know what's inside, the proper combination of ingredients makes most any hot dog taste good.

Should a decent bun and basic condiments be the delivery system for that dog, heck, cheaper is better. That's the theory.

Kidding? Not a chance, buy the cheapest hot dogs you can find. I have a pack or two of cheap dogs in the fridge right now. Both cost roughly a buck per pack - one dollar American - a single chlorophyll George. Eight in a pack, we're talking a little beyond a dime apiece, a bargain at twice the price.

Sitting alongside those cheap doggies is a pack of rather expensive German-style franks complete with natural casing. When going bun-less, and we often do, those pricey franks are delightful. Then again, no bun, no hot dog, right? It's having a hot dog that really isn't a hot dog. Now the situation is getting complicated, and the hot dog is the very definition of simplicity, which is where we shall keep it.

While being thrifty about it, buy buns on sale, which they usually are, they kind of add to the cheap charm of the hot dog. It's a ton of taste for so very little.

I bet you now want a hot dog, right? Yeah, me too. Just don't rat me out to your doctor.

Go cheap.