Hotdogs

 Hotdogs

Noel Laflin

9-27-20

I like hotdogs. I always have. They are a go-to comfort food for me, much like Mac and Cheese is for others. In fact, I just pan fried a couple for David and me.

Now, before anyone begins to lecture me with the opening, “Do you know what goes into hotdogs?” let me assure you, I don’t care.

To be honest, however, there were times in my life that I made exceptions to that claim as the hot dogs at summer camp were atrocious, and I avoided them at all costs. Another time occurred when a friend experimented with non-meat hotdogs. They had the texture of sawdust and were a disaster to one’s taste buds.

For years I worked next door to a Der Wienerschnitzel and visited the place all too often. When our company up and moved, the owner of the Wienerschnitzel nearly cried and gave me the last dog for free. He also said that I singlehandedly helped put his oldest child through college. High praise indeed! And as luck would have it, or maybe it's providence, I live within walking distance of another Der Wienerschnitzel out here in Orange.

I also remember a weekend when my daughter was playing in a softball tournament and I consumed ten hotdogs over a two day period. The concessioner offered me an eleventh dog for free, but I had to pass on that one. I mean, I have my limits.

Overall, I like a good dog whether it be hot off a grill, gingerly removed from a metal coat hanger patiently roasted over a beach barbeque pit, wrapped in bacon, wrapped in pop up crescent dough, pan fried, or turning slowly at the local 7-Eleven counter. I just like them. And with plenty of mustard.

But the strangest way that I ever heard of cooking a hotdog was related to me, years ago, by a friend who said his grandfather prepared hotdogs for the family picnic by placing them in the radiator of his Model A Ford. According to my friend, his grandfather would stop the car about a mile or so from their final destination, open the radiator cap, and feed a string of hotdogs into the hot water, replace the cap, and drive on. The dogs were ready by the time they arrived. This was, obviously, before the invention of coolant/antifreeze.

My only question to my friend, upon hearing this story, was whether his grandfather remembered to bring mustard.

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