Slice of Life: Respect the Dawg (24 of 31)

It's the 24th day of the March Slice of Life Challenge.  31 days of writing.   Thanks to the amazing Two Writing Teachers team for all of their support in this event.

Let's face it, the hot dog doesn't get the respect it deserves in our culture.  As kids we loved a good hot dog anytime, anywhere.  We'd pull them out of refrigerators and eat them cold right out of the bag.  They were delicious cut up and dipped in ketchup, on a bun plain, or chopped in Spaghettio's.

There comes a time in our adolescence where we find out the truth about hot dogs.  Eventually the well kept secret can no longer be hidden; we find out the contents of a hot dog.  What...meat parts?  Ugh!  How did our parents let us eat them all of those years?  We feel cheated.  Lied to.  Let down. 

After the truth is told, it is sometimes days, weeks, or maybe even years before we can eat a hot dog again.  Gone are the days of grabbing them cold from the fridge for a quick snack.  Gone are the days of popping one in the microwave when we get home.  Gone are the days of cutting them up with a can of Spaghettio's.  The poor hotdog is tossed aside.  Disregarded.  It is no longer considered a mealtime possibility.

How can we do this to the hotdog?  Let's be honest, there's nothing better than a hotdog at a baseball game.  Wrapped tightly in foil, the juicy goodness stays tucked inside.  The smell is hard to resist.  Or what about on a rotisserie after it has turned and turned in the heat cooking those juices to a tasty perfection?  Why not tucked under coney sauce with mounds of shredded cheddar at the local Skyline or Gold Star Chili establishment?

And what about a campfire?  A campfire just isn't complete without roasting hotdogs.  There's something about walking into the woods to find the perfect stick to cook a hotdog.  Holding it over the fire, whether lightly or until the hotdog is crispy brown, is a hard treat to resist.

Our culture needs to rethink the status of the hotdog.  Thankfully, there are places that still respect the dawg.  Today I visited one of those places sure to make our grownup selves rethink the whole hotdog thing.  Columbus is lucky to have a place that understands the hotdog.  Today I visited Dirty Frank's for lunch.  The experience had me rethinking hotdogs in my life.  I ordered the West Virginia Slaw Dog (check out the possibilities for dressing up a hotdog on the menu).  The hotdog was tucked deep inside the bun under coney sauce, cole slaw, and onions.  De-lish.  With fair fries on the side, the hotdog was the consummate lunch.  The experience has me rethinking my opinion of a hotdog.  Let's respect the dawg.