Almost every hot dog I've ever eaten has looked and tasted like the amalgamation of meat it is. Doesn't really matter how you dress it up: chili, mustard, onions, celery salt peppers. The hot dog is American food at its finest: cheap, processed, and very nearly tasteless. I probably eat hot dogs about three times a year, and even then it's usually just to be polite.
After moving to Chicago, which is a place sort of obsessed with hot dogs, I only ate one of them in the first six months of living here. One "Chicago-style dog" left me unimpressed and not exactly eager to eat another.
Which is why Hot Doug's caught me by surprise.
Monday was MLK JR day, so we (we being me, two friends, and a new acquaintance) decided to go out and enjoy some unhealthy food. The plan was to go to Kuma's Corner, which is a heavy-metal themed bar/restaurant that allegedly has some of the best burgers in the United States.
So, we drive out to Kuma's, de-car, and go inside. At exactly 2:11 on a Monday afternoon, the wait time at Kuma's corner was 2 hours and 30 minutes. I would've personally been happy to wait (they did have beer, after all), but my companions had no interest in waiting that long for food, even if said food was America's Best Burger. So, I found myself in the car of my new acquaintance, en route to this place he suggested called Hot Doug's.
This place, claimed my new acq., had delicious, made-in-house hot dogs. I bit my tongue.
We arrived at Hot Doug's, which is surrounded by parking lots and warehouses, and grabbed a parking spot. Then we got in line. Yes, we got in line. The line for these weenies snaked out the door and around the building for maybe 60 feet.
I attempted to stereotype the people waiting in line, but couldn't. These people were black and white, rich and poor. Young Puerto Ricans jostled among middle-aged white businessmen. Perhaps the only thing these citizens shared was a love for encased meats.
So we waited 40 minutes in this line in the freezing cold and finally entered the building, where I was able to appraise the menu. Hot Doug's has your general selection of hot dogs: the Chicago-style, Polish sausages, Bratwurst, etc.
But it's when you turn your attention to the 'weekly specials' board when things really get interesting.
A preview:
Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Aioli, Foie Gras Mousse and Sel Gris
Pepper and Onion Pork Sausage with Sun-Dried Tomato Mustard, Roasted Yellow Tomatoes and Ricotta Salata
Spicy Thai Chicken Sausage with Thai Peanut Sauce and Toasted Coconut
And, of course, the Game of the Week:
Bacon and Cheddar Elk Sausage with Half Acre Beer Mustard and Moutardier Cheese
Well. Doug certainly had my attention. The menu left me with more questions than answers (How does one make chicken sausage? Or bacon sausage? Where does one buy elk meat in Chicago? How do you even pronounce those words?)
After much debate, I ended up getting the elk sausage (And how could I not? It's elk sausage). After ordering, it took less than five minutes for my food to come out.
And then I ate it. I'm not gonna lie: it was delicious. The sausage itself was superb. The mustard was tangy and flavorful. And the cheese, which was cut into little cubes and stacked on top of the sausage, was a perfect compliment. Even the bun was toasted to a light brown.
Okay, so no, it wasn't technically a hot dog. It was a sausage dog. But still. Hot Doug's has changed the way I'll view encased encased meat products from this day forth.
