Finally, some real news in the WSJ! (kidding)
From Los Angeles to Boston, Raymond Sokolov went on a nationwide search for the nation's frank of franks. He sampled indistinguishable cart hot dogs as well as alternates like a spicy Polish and pastrami dogs. But it was in a parking lot in Boston that he found the hot dog in its highest form. [From America's Top Dog]
And for the real meat of the story: Chicago dogs. I, ashamedly, have never made it Hot Dougs. I usually take willing guests to Weiner's Circle as it is easy to get to, and is a good neighborhood to walk around in.
Shake Shack is much more than a hot dog stand. It has burgers, too, but dogs are our subject today, and Mr. Meyer, a midwestern expat in Gotham, has decided to play the Chicago card, with his "shack-cago dog" -- an all-beef Vienna dog with mustard, relish, onion, cucumber, pickle, tomato, "sport" pepper and celery salt.
This cornucopia dog is typical of what you get all across Chicago. The topping choices are its earmarks, especially a fluorescent-green picalilli relish and those hot little sport peppers. A classic Chicago dog is steamed, not grilled, and served on a poppy-seed bun. Typically, it's supplied by local company Vienna Beef, founded in the late 19th century by two Hungarian emigrants who served up sausages at the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago.
But if you are going to check out America's outstanding regional hot dog at its best, you should follow the advice of the city's regnant chef-epicure, Charlie Trotter.
I was a bit shy about asking him if he had a favorite hot dog place, but without hesitation, he wrote out some names. The top dogs I visited at the chef's recommendation were The Wiener's Circle, Hot Doug's and Gene and Jude's Red Hots. It may be that I will offend local fans by asserting that all three of them reach about the same, very high level of presenting the Chicago dog described above. In a way, you would be choosing ambiance more than you would be choosing a better or different hot dog if you were to pick one of these places over another.
The Wiener's Circle is the only one right in the center of town, in Lincoln Park, and it adds a citified sizzle to the intimate experience it provides in its small space. Gene and Jude's is a great-big, friendly place not far from O'Hare airport, with lots of parking and a lack of style that is a style itself.
Hot Doug's is a small social step up, but not all that far up. (It describes itself as "the sausage superstore and encased meat emporium.") Its menu stretches its brawny arms out to embrace much more than the canonical Chicago dog. And its fans are so devoted that they will wait in a long, slowly moving queue outside in the rain.
For some of the faithful, the draw of Hot Doug's may have been a dauntingly hot-spiced sausage called, for no obvious reason, the Keira Knightley. I was more drawn to the duck-fat fries (available Friday and Saturday only; do the ducks work elsewhere Sunday through Thursday?).
Hot Doug's basic Chicago dog, like the other alpha pooches' versions of same, was whatever you wanted it to be. The taste was an amalgam of the toppings you picked. The genius of the Chicago hot dog is in the details, but the essence of the Chicago-style dog is that it lets you be the genius. It's a truly democratic dish in a place where regular guys (and gals) set the tone.
But this is also the fundamental truth about the hot dog. It turns everybody into a gastronome, because the basic materials are so similar. But even in the most degraded situations, you do have to decide whether to add mustard and relish or sauerkraut.
Me, I stick with the mustard, and I like the sweetly astringent effect a papaya drink adds to the mix, at a corner place near my house.
And if you could excuse me now, I have to wipe the mustard off my chin.
(to read full story which also mentions Pink's in LA, click here)
