Phat Mack Dines out

It’s sad but true: when you get to a certain stage in life, your fantasies take strange turns. Ever since SPM’s Chicago post last week, my mind has dwelt on hot dogs. Last night, driving home from my latest debacle at the poker tableI remembered something. There was an article in the paper a year or so ago indicating that a transplanted Chicago byte nerd, had, here in the heart of Texas, opened, as a public service, a Chicago-style hot dog stand. I even remembered where it was.


Today I dropped by for a visit. The place is called Lucky Dog. It has one of these plastic menu boards above the Order Here/Pickup Here counter beginning with:


OUR SIGNATURE DOGS


FAMOUS CHICAGO STYLE HOT DOGS


Authentic Vienna Pure Beef Hot Dog—Steamed to perfection in a poppy seed bun. Served with yellow mustard, green relish, tomato wedges, onion, kosher pickle spear, sport peppers and a dash of celery salt, a meal by itself…..$2.59


I believe that shilly-shallying around at a hot dog stand is just as dangerous as at a poker table, so I went no further and ordered one. Here is what I got: an excellent hot dog (steamed, not grilled, but hey, it’s their show) was put in first, then chopped raw onions and excellent pickle relish on top of that. On one side was a pickle spear, that, I have to say, was on of the best I’ve had in years. It compared to a homemade Kosher dill. If you’ve ever had one, you know what I mean—crisp, not limp, with a heavy hand applied to the dill and garlic. A lady working in the back said they were from Chicago. On the side opposite, tomato wedges were jammed down between the dog and the bun. Being something of a skeptic, I thought that as soon as I picked up the dog and bit into it, the pressure would cause the wedges to jump out of the hot dog and land on my tray. A soon as I picked up the hot dog and bit into it, the wedges jumped out and landed on my tray. Interactive eating – nice touch. I didn’t know what sport peppers were, but there were three of them in a row between the tomato wedges and the pickle slice. They wouldn’t be called peppers here in Texas, were peppers are eaten to show off pain thresholds, but I liked them. They were nice and tangy and had good flavor.


All in all, I think Chicagoans display a good understanding of the hot dog.


For dessert I ordered another type, a Maxwell Street Polish. I was hoping it would be Kilbassa (SP?). It wasn’t. I was disappointed.


Excellent dog. So good, in fact, that I intend to go back to Lucky Dog next week and give them a shot at my own personal Holy Grail of food, the Meatball Sub.

Excellent, you had a real Vienna hotdog with appropriate condiments. It's supposed to be steamed, so the restaurant did it right. Odds are the dill pickle was from the Vienna company too. They ship them with the hotdogs in big barrels. I hated unloading them from the truck but did like eating them. The sport peppers are also Vienna and shipped with the dogs and pickles. The Polish should be Vienna Beef as well, since the place orders their hotdogs from there. I never liked them as well as the regular hotdog.

Did they have a bottle of ketchup sitting someplace for the ignorant or did they proudly ban it all together and turn away anyone who asked for it as a real Chicagoan would?


Paul Talbot

It's hard to ban ketchup even though putting it on Chicago dogs ought to be a felony for destruction of property. Even the place in your City of Boulder allows it in the restaurant (for hamburgers and fries)and will put it on a dog upon request. I respect the owner of that place, and worked for his partner, but even real Chicagoans have a tough go of enforcing reasonable rules outside the Windy City. And there are people who will put cheese, mayonaise, kraut, or chili on a perfectly good Vienna hotdog. It's a cruel world out there.

I asked them what they would do if a customer ordered ketchup on their dog. They winced, but said they would put it on. They did serve fries and had little red containers out for those so inclined.

And your post makes me hungry. But I know of no such joint where I live. Otherwise I might just go have a dog. Really. I might.

Wow, that sounds almost as good as getting a hot dog comp (you bet your ass you can get a hot dog comp) after a couple of hours of blackjack.

John,


Then--you must prepare one of your own. The Rockies may not tumble, Gibraltar may not crumble, and you may really be fine. Really, I think.


John