Spring Break
The night before my flight was spent scheming up ways to forget that all my routines would be destroyed. If there is two things I hate then those things are the process of flying and being removed from a longstanding routine. Bella reminded me of the solace that I would find back home: my friends, my family, and most importantly: hotdogs. Landing in San Francisco hurt my eyes more than anything else, after spending 6 weeks in the dark of late winter, west coast spring felt like a flashbang. I immediately contracted a headache that could only be fixed by watching Bryan Cranston’s “Jerry and Marge Go Large”.
The next morning I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm, encrusted in the old sweat of last night’s terrors. These days I dream mostly of ghouls and devils, every second I spend in bed is time for some creature to catch up and punish me for my absence from the pots and pans required to spin up the perfect dog.
Stop and Shop has become the perfect place to pick up dog ingredients and one of my worries coming home was that Safeway wouldn’t have all my materiels. Like a pervert in a pornography outlet I stalked the isles looking for the perfect selection to satiate my desires. By the end of my hunt I had confirmed my worries. The only ginger they had was in a paste rather than minced - a problem because the reduced juice of the paste meant some removed sweetness, they didn’t sell pickled cabbage (neither does Stop and Shop but in New York I have a hookup), and they didn’t have New England style buns. All of this worried me going into my first evening at home - we were making dogs not only for me and three friends, but also for my entire family. This rendition of the dog had an updated sauce: mayo, old bay, msg, rice wine vinegar, lemon juice, and a splash of dijon mustard. Despite my missing ingredients we managed to slap together a dog that looked visually serviceable and I made sure to mention all the setbacks while serving. Everyone loved the dog, one friend of mine even going as far to say it was the best dog he’d ever had. We were onto something with the updated sauce.
The next day, during a visit to SF, I had a hotdog in Golden Gate park. This hotdog was garnished, among other things, with a house red onion sauce, a sauce that was talked up in the marketing materiels seen on the stand’s plastic roof. The sauce was practically nothing. I didn’t hate it but I could’ve achieved 95% of the flavor with ketchup.
On Monday me and some friends took the hour and a half drive south to visit a buddy who attends UC Santa Cruz. I packed a cooler with all the supplies needed to make some more dogs. During a stop to refill some ingredients in a local Trader Joes we were able to find New England style buns under the name “Split Top Buns” then back to my buddy’s apartment to chef up some franks. I was so nervous to cook for a new group of people that I really fucked up the sauce real bad. Afterwards my friends tried sweetly to assure me I did a good job but I knew the truth: these dogs sucked bad.
Tuesday I went to the movies with my little sister and acquired a plain dog to crush while watching. Theres something sweet about a dog with nothing on it - just bun and meat. Always reminds me of a hotdog place that used to be at the end of my street. I’d always order a plain dog with a waffle bun - ever since they closed I’ve been looking but I can’t find anyone else who makes it.
Movie dog gave me an idea. On Thursday me and my friends were heading into the city for a little walk. I figured that if I filled a thermos with boiling water and cut the dogs to fit, I could have on the go dogs to slam whenever I needed them. Following is a short presentation where I do just that: