A Confession

I have never really liked hot dogs. No really, I'm not kidding. But it seems that during the past two months, I have been talking about hot dogs a lot lately. And finally, I admitted that I do, indeed, LOVE hot dogs. They just gotta be good...

Which brings me to my second hot dog post (and perhaps my last, since I am supposed to mention some healthy things in this blog on occasion).

I recently visited one of my best friends, Frank, in Chicago, something that I have been meaning to do for too long, and finally initiated after watching No Reservations: Chicago. In this episode, Anthony Bourdain visits Hot Doug's: The Sausage Superstore and Encased Meat Emporium. I'd like to think that my experience was similar to his.



Drove through a somewhat shady area of Chicago (picture the town in The Deer Hunter), waited in line outside, squeezed our way through the first set of doors into the space I referred to as The Holding Cell. A friend of Frank's anticipated our meal to resemble something from the Seinfeld "Soup Nazi" episode, but instead we were warmly greeted by friendly folk.

Nevermind what everyone else ate; I chowed down on a traditional Chicago-style dog, which was accompanied by caramelized onions, relish, tomatoes, a pickle spear, and celery salt. Yum. The second hot dog I ordered (yes, I ate two) was the foie gras dog. A duck and Sauternes sausage topped with some sort of black truffle aoili and a generous portion of foie gras--the best $9 I've spent probably in the past two years.

My only complaint is that the duck fat fries, which are only served on Friday and Saturday, were just not what I had expected. I mean, they were fine--but just not wonderful.

I can't wait to get back to Chicago. And not only for the great dogs, but also the great company.

Me with my cheesy foie gras smile