Chicago Dogged

Lately I've been sampling this area's offerings of the "Chicago Dog” — or rather, the Chicago-style hot dog.

Back when I was a kid — as kids are wont to do — I hated just about everything food related that wasn't done my way. And back then, a hot dog was to be served to me on a bun or nestled in a rolled up slice of white bread, and slathered in ketchup and mustard. Nothing else! I remember going somewhere with a relative, probably one of my sisters, and along the way she asked me, “Wanna get a hot dog?” Also as kids are wont to do, I was always ready for restaurant food!

“Hell yes!” Of course, had I answered her like that, I would have had my mouth washed out with soap. But you get the idea.

So we pulled in to the parking lot of a small roadside stand in Steger, Illinois. I’m pretty sure this was a small chain that existed only in the Chicago area, and perhaps only in the Chicago south suburbs, and I’m not sure exists today at all. It was Bozo Hot Dogs and, despite its Chicago connection, it had nothing to do with the Bozo the Clown television franchise. I don’t recall the chain of events, but I imagine that I was asked if I wanted everything on it and, to my sheltered mind, “everything” meant everything on it I liked, which was ketchup and mustard. Nothing else!

To my utter disgust and disappointment, I got this heaping pile of vegetables on top of a bun. I couldn’t even see the hot dog! But what I didn’t realize was that I had been handed a classic.

The quintessential Chicago Dog is a steamed — not grilled, not boiled — kosher beef frankfurter on a poppy-seed bun, topped with yellow mustard, chopped raw white onions, neon-green sweet pickle relish (sometimes called “picalilli”), a dill pickle spear, tomato slices, sport peppers and a dash of celery salt. A Chicago Dog purist will gouge out your eyes at your mere suggestion of putting ketchup on your Dog. (I don’t understand it, either.)

I vaguely remember digging the frankfurter out of that garden mess and just eating that — the bun’s flavor was "ruined" by all those juices from the tomato and the pickles...and those poppy seeds! And I remember being scolded for all the wasted food.

Until very recently, I still hadn’t cared too much for The Chicago Dog, mainly because it seemed to be so much to put in a bun. But I was in a hot dog mood one day a few weeks back, and I decided to get one “dragged through the garden.” While I don’t consider The Chicago Dog to be anything special, a classic is a classic, and I, as I am wont to do these days, decided to take the “appreciation” approach: rather than concern myself with all that stuff on it, why not take it in and experience the flavor that a Chicago Dog is intended to impart?

Again, while I consider it to be nothing special, it was pretty tasty, albeit quite a handful. A few days later I realized I hadn’t shaken my hot dog jones, so I tried another Chicago Dog at a different place. Its presentation was different than the first, and certainly less fantastic than the one I remember from Bozo Hot Dog. And that reminds me... the first dog I tried didn’t have tomatoes on it. Neither did the next one.

Some weeks later I tried another one. Though I ordered a Chicago Dog, what I got was a frankfurter on a bun with no poppy seeds, relish, mustard, pickle spear, no peppers (but I ordered it that way), and no celery salt that I could discern.

More recently I attended a Chicago Cubs baseball game. After a few innings we went on a nosh run and came to a concession stand that sold "Chicago Dogs." It came with nothing. Just a frank on a bun, with some chopped onions sprinkled on it. The condiments station only offered ketchup and yellow mustard, and little individual blister packs of regular sweet relish.

And that sparked an idea. I would start a blog that would chart my sampling of as many Chicago Dogs I could find, reviewing each on its merits as well as the establishment where I purchased it. There would be photos of each dog and its culinary environs, and a shot of the restaurant exterior. I would schmooze with the management of each establishment and build a rapport, and perhaps have a hand in the improvement of The Chicago Dog across all of Chicagoland, and I would call it The Chicago Dog Blog!

But somebody already beat me to it.

But HEY! It’s a blog about places to take your pet dog! I could just call it something else! I could still inform all of Chicagoland about where to find the best Chicago Dog anywhere!

But, no.

I guess I’ll just stick to inane chatter about long-shot hopes and failed dreams.



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