America, Countries, Food

Hot Dog… Chicago’s is dragged through the garden

And something to line my stomach before my flight back to Scotland. Hot Dog Chicago’s is dragged through the garden.

On account of its green add-ons and more later.

For many of us Europeans, and other types, the hot dog is our gateway to street food Stateside.

So if you got your first taste of a dwaaag from a Manhattan vendor you might imagine that they’re uniform across the country.

Hot Dog years

Check in: Skyscrapers in Chicago Airport

Wrong, there’s a pack of dogs out there.

While we’re road testing the two best known here, New York and Chicago.

Our source, or should that be sauce, are hot dogoligists (OK, we made that up).

At the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council (and we didn’t make that up).

They run us through a history of the wiener and the origin claims of Frankfurt and Vienna.

With even Homer and the Ancient Greeks thrown in for good measure.

New York on a roll

Now, just like the hamburger, there is consensus that German immigrants took their sausages with them to the States.

And their first port of passage was naturally New York.

Where inevitably there are rival claims for who was the first to make a buck out of the-then dachshund sausage.

Either an immigrant in the Bowery district, along with milk rolls and sauerkraut in the 1860s.

Or more specifically baker Charles Feltman, who in 1871 opened up the first Coney Island stand.

Selling 3,684 dachshund sausages in a milk roll during his first year in business.

Hot stuff

Good to go: The Chicago hot dogs

How the sausages came to be known as hot dogs is also shrouded in mystery and mythology.

With one version crediting a vendor at the New York Polo Grounds on a cold April day.

Shouting ‘Get your dachshund sausages while they’re red hot!’

And sports cartoonist Tad Dorgan taking the story and running with it with a sketch.

Of barking dachshund sausages nestled warmly in rolls.

And because he couldn’t spell dachshund he wrote hot dog instead.

A tale of two US sittings

Super Bowl: Ben’s half-smoked in DC

All of which is filling, albeit pretty interesting, in the discussion around the NY and Chicago hot dogs.

The NY offering leans heavily on the sauerkraut and brown mustard with onions.

While the Chicago dog which really took off with the World Fair in 1893 packs in a lot more.

Served on a poppy seed bun, topped with mustard, tomatoes, onions, sport peppers, green relish, dill pickles and celery salt.

Which I slurp down at the airport bar with a Boston Sam Adams in the company of Hawaiian Chase.

The other dog: In Los Angeles

Because hot dogs are a communal event I’ve enjoyed from Washington and Ben’s Chilli Bowl to Venice Beach.

And Hot Dog Chicago’s is dragged through the garden. And me after it.

 

 

Countries

Say a little prayer for Burt

His songs have been the soundtrack to many a life, moments in time, such as for vagrant Tony in Washington DC… so today we say a little prayer for Burt.

I shared a half-smoke hot dog with Tony at Ben’s Chili Bowl where he had taken up residence.

And heard the story of his life to the backdrop of the song he put on the jukebox Aretha Franklin’s I Say A Little Prayer.

So there without us knowing, Burt Bacharach had seeped into our common experience.

An angel’s songs

And that in essence was the genius of the man who is now serenading the angels.

Because Burt Bacharach and Hal David heightened the human experience in their timeless songs.

Often in the most original and humorous way.

Probably why Mike Myers turned to him to play piano on the restyled top of a London double decker as Austin romanced Vanessa.

And it rubbed off too as when I travel to the American Travel Fair.

This way to San Jose

So amid the dozens of stands I’d always pick out one of the Californian displays.

And ask… ‘do you know the way to San Jose?, I’ve got a lot of friends in San Jose

Burt then would creep up on you when you least expected it.

Mostly in America, to be fair.

Whether in Connecticut where The Carpenters are really from although we associate them more with California.

American Songbook

And where I heard echoes of Burt and the heavenly Karen Carpenter.

Or the Great Outdoors of Utah where The Sundance Film Festival is held annually and Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head tingles in the air.

While Burt and Hal put Tulsa, Oklahoma, on the map particularly when you’re 24 hours from the Mid-Western town.

Burt’s score and Hal’s lyrics have then become a reference point to define many a nostalgic destination.

Purring along

Cool for cats… in the Eastern Cape, South Africa

With What’s New Pussycat springing to mind when asked to title my musings on safari in the Eastern Cape in South Africa.

Of course all our experiences are our own but at the same time shared through the permanence of a tune.

So today as we say a little prayer for Burt we console ourselves that Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s music will live forever.