Hot Dog Hit List

Down and Dirty in Davis Sq. – Spike’s Junkyard Dogs

2009-09-01T09:46:00.001-04:00

Guest written by Liz Tereshko
While searching for nearby hot dog joints on Google, Jess and I discovered Spike’s Junkyard Dogs. There are 9 locations of Spike’s. Five of these are in MA. The closest one to us is the one in Davis Sq. Somerville, MA, (aka Slumerville in some audiences). Their restaurant in Davis is also known for being the place to go after a night of drinking since they are open till 1am. However, wanting the experience Spike’s on a sober stomach Jess and I made the trek over the river to do the all important taste test.
Spike’s is very easy to find with their bright yellow sign and hot dog scents that waft around the neighborhood. Being Somerville, parking can be tricky to find on a weekend. We had to do some circling before we found a spot. But, if you don’t mind the walk there is a metered parking lot a few blocks away.
There are 9 hot dogs on their menu. We chose our usually amount of 2 hot dogs, the Patriot Dog and Spike’s Junkyard Dog, both 100% beef franks. While eating on 2 stools looking out onto Elm Street we devoured our purchases and people watched. For those of you that have been to Davis Sq. you know that there is some good people watching to be seen in this part of town. Spike’s is an ideal people watching place due to their street level counters and low plastic bar stools.
The Patriot Dog is an explosion of bacon, cheddar cheese, and Spike’s special mustard on top of a juicy hot dog that was wrapped up in a freshly baked bun. The hot dog itself was rich and flavorful, but we found that the cheese could have been meltier and the bacon might have been slightly over the top even for our tastes. In our book bacon to is a very important food. The bun was toasted and large as far as hot dog bun sizes run, really more like a small loaf of bread. Spike’s Junkyard Dog is Spike’s special mustard, tomatoes, pickles, hot pepper rings, and chopped scallions. The Junkyard Dog was better than the Patriot Dog simply because there was less going on. All of the ingredients seemed freshly made and were rich tasting. The bun for the Junkyard Dog was the same bun as the Patriot Dog, but for some reason it worked better for the Junkyard Dog.
All in all Spike’s was good, but not outright amazing. Maybe Spike’s has branched out too far with their 9 locations and have lost track of some of their original charm like so many other small chain restaurants before them or maybe we were too sober to fully enjoy their late night snack reputation.

Teddy Kennedy, Tree Huggers and Trips to Cambridge

2009-08-29T17:37:00.001-04:00

Saturday, August 29th, 2009 marks a few major events in Massachusetts: the landing of Hurricane Danny and subsequent rainstorm, Senator Teddy Kennedy's funeral and my discovery of Formaggio Kitchen in Cambridge. I would like to personally thank my friend Dave, who has his own food blog, the SeasonedNoob, because it was his recommendation that led me there.

I am listening to the Black Key's "You're the One" right now and longingly thinking of my trip over to Cambridge for lunch. It's interesting how great food and great music somehow manage to fill your chest cavity and empty your wallet. When they are enjoyed with people you love, I'm not quite sure what could possibly be better. It's the reason we are here.

Formaggio Kitchen has a Saturday BBQ during the summer, and I'm not quite sure how I didn't hear about it before. They had all sorts of goodies: roasted pears, grilled chicken and corn on the cob. The Kitchen actually serves as a neighborhood grocer with specialty cheeses, meats and other high-end, bourgeoisie goodies. The place was crawling with people who can afford $17 cookies. We didn't get to try the cookies, but we had some cheese and some spicy pickles and they were delicious. In fact, the blue cheese was so great that I bought some. And of course, hot dogs, which sounded good enough for Liz and I to trek over there while Hurricane Danny was raining down.

The hot dogs were truly fantastic. There are actually 3 or 4 types to choose from, so Liz and I chose 2: Niman Ranch and "Pearl"-in-a-Hole. Niman Ranch is a very well known organic hippie farm, one of the founders of the back-to-the-land movement in the 1970s. For some reason, I was thinking that they were in Maine (sorry, guy behind me in line, I misinformed you) but after some strategic googling this afternoon, I realized who they really are. I remembered reading about the Farm's history in the New York Times a while back, am sure I have had their steak (it was delicious) and was thrilled today to try the hot dogs. The Niman Ranch dog was probably the most flavorful dog I have had to date, and could easily stand on its own without condiments. But why would you not have condiments? We did: mustard, ketchup, relish, sauerkraut and onions. The dog was smokey and had a slight honey-ham flavor to it. The bun was toasted perfectly, was just slightly crispy and buttery. Every bite was like a revelation of new flavors, and frankly, I wanted a post-coital Marlboro Light. I've always been partial to Hebrew National dogs, but the Niman Ranch ones just about blow them out of the water. Expensive, at $5, but worth it when you consider you're (a) getting an all-natural, humanely raised product and (b) supporting a great local business.

The staff there was really knowledgeable and friendly, especially Trip, who was manning the BBQ that had moved inside because of the rain. He impishly handed us the full baguette which the "Pearl-in-a-hole" comes in and instructed us to fill it with our condiments of choice (same as above). Pearl hot dogs are from Randolph, of all places, and I love their website...Pearl Meats. So direct. The website says they come in 3 sizes, and I can only assume we were eating large, because the dog fit into an entire baguette. It was indecent enough that a 50-something British dude kept bumping into us and asking us how everything tasted. Really, and we were eating in the cookie section. It was awkward. The dogs were shoved into a hollowed-out baguette and were very juicy. I liked them very much as well and if we had not been comparing them to the gloriousness that was the smoked Niman Ranch dogs, the Pearl would be a stand out, but it just doesn't seem to be a fair competition. If you are the type to love the bread that comes with your dog, and want an indecently sized weiner that will fill you up for the entire day, go for the Pearl...otherwise stick with the Niman Ranch.

I've been home all afternoon, thinking I want another hot dog. And thinking about Teddy Kennedy, whose funeral is going on at my father's childhood church. Formaggio Kitchen was such a tiny little place, tucked onto Huron Avenue in Cambridge, and it seems like the type of neighborhood store that breeds community the way the Mission Church and Mike's Doughnut Shop do - through diligence and reliability. By being there, every day, always providing quality products and a quality way of life. These are the things that Teddy was fighting for, and I sometimes forget how lucky I am, that I live in a place in the world that values such continuity and community heritage. Thanks Teddy, for fighting for these things, and thanks, Formaggio Kitchen, for delivering them.

Mexican Hot Dogs

2009-08-27T11:51:00.000-04:00

There's an interesting article today in the NYT about the presence of a Mexican-American hot dog characterized by "fashioning the hot dog with a cloak of bacon, a clump of beans and a chop of tomatoes and onions, followed by squirts of mayonnaise, mustard and salsa verde" in Arizona, Texas and southern California. Reminds me of Anthony Bourdain's delicious looking, foot-long, avocado and mayonnaise covered dogs on the recent episode in Chile, otherwise known as the "completo." Does anyone know of a good restaurant in Boston and/or surrounding areas to try these Mexican-influenced dogs? Because I love bacon, mayo and guacamole.

Cruising for Guidos and Micks. Ipswich?

2009-08-24T15:20:00.000-04:00

Ipswich, ah Ipswich. The lovely North Shore haven was immortalized on several occasions by Hollywood: as the source of Leonardo di Caprio's fancy accent in the Departed and as the site of filming for the Witches of Eastwick. But I digress. I actually ended up eating hot dogs in Ipswich by accident, if it is possible for me to have such a thing happen. Liz and I were headed to the North Shore to hit the lovely beaches and cruise for Guidos and Micks (both ended up successful, if you were curious). One rather lovely Saturday we decided to avoid the parking lot that 128N becomes during the 6 week festival we New Englanders call summer and take back roads. So for no apparent reason we took Route 62 to Route 1A, and ended up cruising through Ipswich and past the infamous Clam Box en route to Plum Island National Park. Our little beach trip turned into an excursion, complete with Dunkin Donuts iced coffee and the entire playlist of FutureSex/LoveSounds. We really wanted to go to the Clam Box, because we love fried clams almost as much as hot dogs. But as we stood in a ridiculous line, we were told it would be 3 hours. 3 hours?!%$ Are you serious? I wouldn't wait that long for a Manolo Blahnik fire sale.

So we got back into my little Honda, still starving, and drove to downtown Ipswich. I had my eyes peeled for a hot dog stand, pizza joint or similarly priced alternative to yuppified fried crustaceans. In the name of saving time, we just started asking people where we could find a hot dog stand. First lady, about 50 years of age and rocking cankles, had no suggestions. She was a disgrace to her big boned ankles. The I spotted him. Old dude in the blue t-shirt. And I just knew he was the one with the answers we wanted to hear.

We sauntered up to old dude in the blue t-shirt, approximately 65 years of age and showing every second of it and asked the age-old question, "do you know of a good hot dog stand around here?" Now you would have thought we were asking for directions to the Vatican, given his long-pondering before answering, "well, you could go to the Choate Bridge Pub over the-ya, it's kinda fancy, you know, a real fancy sit-down mee-all, but they got some good sandwiches." We thanked old guy in the blue t-shirt (in fact, I am still thanking him) and wandered over. Now considering this pub is over the oldest stone arch bridge built in the United States, in 1764, I was expecting something fancy, perhaps not suitable to our budget or love of processed meats. And then we walked into a full-on bar. I mean, every inch of space was consumed by this wrap-around bar. And I thought, fancy sit-down place? Where are you normally eating? Now I love dive bars, so I was in my element. And this is a dive bar, full of uber-locals who only consider you "from the-re" if your family emigrated in the eighteenth century. Those nineteenth century punks better step off, because they are NOT welcome. And neither are credit cards or out-of-state or duplicate IDs. So it's a good think I'm rocking a Massachusetts license now.

Anyway, we got the dogs. And they were great, a lot of flavor on butter-doused, grilled buns. $3.50 with chips and big - Boar's Head maybe? Coupled with delicious Ipwich Ale, we ate like North Shore royalty for under $20, with tip. I suddently felt like I was in my own Hollywood movie, rocking an accent. And it felt wicked.

Southie: Cigars, planes and Sully's

2009-03-29T19:48:00.000-04:00

On my way to a wake, which is a whole different story, I decided I absolutely had to swing through Southie (South Boston) for a hot dog. Every year, Bostonians look forward to the annual opening of Sully's - Sullivan's hot dogs - on Castle Island. I believe it opened for the season a few weeks ago, and they were selling hot dogs for 75 cents a piece. The line was crazy then, and I thought it was worth it to wait and pay the relatively exhorbitant $1.50.

So on a sunny, windy Tuesday in March, I had my $1.50 hot dog. I was the only girl in the building, and I would guess in a four block radius. Surrounded by contractors, longshoreman and professional lay-abouts, I inched up to the counter in my dress blacks. 2 dogs, with ketchup, relish, mustard and onions. Oh, and a coke. I was disappointed to discover that they are a pepsi joint, but I survived. The dogs were delivered in about 15 seconds, and I high-tailed it outta there. I parked the car about 5 blocks further west, looking out over the pond into Boston harbor, allowing myself a perfect view of planes landing at Logan airport. One, two, three...no wonder air traffic controllers need percosates to get through the day, the planes came in so quickly. Yet something about sitting there was incredibly peaceful. The guy in the next car was smoking a cigar and reading the paper - it made me think that people have made the trip to Sully's their routine, their church. They come from all over Boston to meditate on the peace of the water, the redundancy of the planes' rumbling and the sweet salty taste of hot dogs. The sameness of it all calmed me.

Back to the dogs - they were delicious. Slightly sweet and not too salty, the casings were crisp and the buns were grilled to perfection. I may have been heading to a wake last Tuesday, but for 20 minutes, I found peace.

2009-03-02T13:15:00.000-05:00

Make sure to lock your car doors. Lawrence.

2009-03-02T13:06:00.001-05:00

Guest written by Liz.
On a cold and grey Saturday Jess, Rob, and I decided to take a 40 minute trek north out to Lawrence. Why Lawrence of all places you ask? Because it’s the home of Lawton’s Famous Frankfurts! Remaining unchanged in its 80 years of hot dog perfection making existence, Lawton’s is a true hidden gem in this run down and forgotten city. What makes Lawton’s so good is the fact that they are fried in oil and are 10 inches of beef and pork filled hot dog heaven that are then engulfed in toasted buns! Each hot dog is made to order, which also adds to their greatness. One of the saddest things ever is seeing a hot dog rotating on a grill for hours at a time all sad and lonely. Freshness is definitely a major factor in hot dog greatness.
Lawton’s is surprisingly easy to find thanks to Google Maps. It’s a small red shack of a building that hangs somewhat dangerously over the edge of the canal surrounded by deteriorating mill buildings. With barely any room to stand in their building you get to know your fellow hot dog lovers quite well. The smell of delicious grease filled the air as we waited making us hungrier by the minute. While we waited for our orders to be finished we chatted up a woman in line who grew up in Lawrence, but now live in NH and she took a trip down from NH just because she was in the mood for a Lawton’s hot dog. True devotion at its best! Our hopes and expectations grew higher with our new information.
Jess and I ordered a side of fries and 2 hot dogs each of, “the works” – fresh onions, mustard, and relish. With our orders in hand we packed ourselves back into by car, (due to its tininess, Lawton’s has no room for indoor seating). We bit in simultaneously. Pure deliciousness! I must say that it was the best hot dog that I have had in a very very long time. A full-bodied hot dog with a crispy skin and pilled with mouth watering condiments and a buttery, toasted bun. Rob ordered a chili dog, which he was not as impressed with. Rob’s disappointment was not because of the hot dog, but because of the chili itself. As Rob sulked in his disappointment, Jess and I savored our hot dog purchases and encouraged him to eat some fries to cheer himself up. On the ride back home we decided that Lawton’s was truly the best hot dogs that we have enjoyed since our Great Hot Dog Hunt has began and that we would definitely be back soon.

Welcome to the New Site!

2009-02-10T16:50:00.000-05:00

This blog has been relocated from my old blog and re-vamped with a new and more fun URL. Coming soon: pictures of hot dogs (no joke) and a review of Lawton's in Lawrence.

Land of Blacktop and Broken Dreams

2009-02-04T19:48:00.001-05:00

Oh, Natick. Known throughout New England (or at least out to 495) as the home of Shopper's World and the newly minted Natick Collection, it is a land of minivans, endless parking lots and TJX. Despite my constant urge to shop for shoes, that was not the goal when Liz, Geoff and I trekked out there on route 16 through Swellesley and Newton. The goal was hot dogs. Casey's Diner hot dogs.

Now I remembered Casey's from my time in a holding cell at TJX. I lived for my lunch hour, escaping to all of the local greasepits and sometimes to Cochituate Lake to nap and ponder driving into it. Steve the tech guy, a local, introduced me to Casey's Diner. Since I hadn't been there in 4 years, I wanted to relive the glory and see if my taste buds had a good memory. Liz and Geoff, never ones to turn down cheap food or a chance to race VW punks through Swellesley, came along for the ride.

Now Casey's comes with a good reputation. Originally a horse drawn diner car, it has retained most of its charm and about 80 years of cased-on grease. Given the history, it seemed a great location to begin our 2009 hot dog hit list. Liz and I went with our usual: 3 hot dogs, 1.5 for each. Ketchup, Mustard, Relish and Onions. I know, traditionalists hate ketchup. I say, screw you tradtionalists. Ketchup is awesome. It activates the awesome glands. Back to the dogs. They were normal sized, with crisp natural casings on the outside and nice and tender on the inside. Want fries with that? Too bad, they don't have a fry-o-lator. Strike one.

Geoff wanted chili. They didn't have chili, never have it. Geoff got pouty. Strike two.

In the end, Casey's redeemed itself with pie. Blueberry pie, apparently from Sam's Club, part of Wal-Mart's evil empire. But I digress. Because this pie was delicious: tart, with flaky, crumbly crust. Despite Geoff's broken heart over the lack of chili, we were all ready to nap after this pie. And what else would you want to do on a Saturday afternoon?

Casey's Diner is worth a stop if you're in the area, but don't trek out to Natick just for that; make sure that you are getting some shoe shopping in as well.

That's what she said.

2009-02-03T09:12:00.001-05:00

Eat your heart out, Casey.

I went all the way to Iceland for a hot dog

2009-02-02T10:36:00.002-05:00

There are plenty of great reasons to travel to Iceland: the famous hot springs, the headache inducing partying in Reykjavik and the rapidly falling Krona among them. This is not the reason I went. I went for hot dogs. Sure, I was planning on stopping there anyway, on a layover from Paris. Based entirely on a recent episode of Andrew Zimmern's bizarre foods, Jocelyn and I decided to extend our stay, detox from heavy French cuisine and eat some lamb hot dogs. We made the right decision.

"Bæjarins beztu pylsur," which translates to something like the best hot dog in town, was not that difficult to find. Armed with my Wikipedia printout, we set out from our overpriced hotel, priced premarket crash. Typical tourists, we refused all assistance until Jocelyn's hypoglycemia set in and we finally had to ask for directions. Since all of Reykjavik consists of about 10 square blocks, we were lucky to discover that we were only about one and a half blocks away from heaven.

Being my typical overly friendly self, I set out to become friends with the guy making hot dogs. Despite the fact that he clearly understood English, he refused to answer questions with any syllable above a grunt. Apparently the American TV show was giving us a bad name. Nevertheless we managed to order things in our typical style: Jocelyn with lots of ketchup and me with lots of everything else.

Other than the fact that they are famed for their lamb content, the "everything" included some unusual ingredients in addition to the standard sweet mustard and ketchup. First there was a remoulade, a mayonnaise-based concoction with sweet relish mixed in. Second, there was both fried and raw onions, a combination I have come to desire with every subsequent hot dog sighting. Seriously, I crave this. Onions make everything better. I think a root canal would be better with onions. And having two types of onions at once, with the sweetness of the fried and the crispness of the raw is a brilliant combination. In fact, if Iceland somehow managed to patent this combination I think their economy never would have collapsed. You could base a banking system on this.

We polished off four hot dogs between the two of us, and then dragged our asses back to the hotel to nap. What else can you do with that much goodness working its way into your digestive system? Besides, we needed to rest up for the city's famous bars, which didn't really get busy until after midnight. For the record, they weren't nearly as wonderful as the hot dogs.