My Past and Occasional Present Pursuit of the Perfect Hot Dog
I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener that is what I’d really like to be ’cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener everyone would be in love with me Oh, I’m glad I’m not an Oscar Mayer wiener that is what I’d never want to be ’cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener everyone would take a bite of me Truthfully, I never wanted to be an Oscar Mayer Wiener – I am a Vienna Beef kind of gal, through and through, followed by Hebrew National. When I was a teenager, my dad and I decided that we would become hot dog connoisseurs and pursue the perfect dog. Growing up in Chicago – the hot dog capital of America, this seemed like a logical and glorious quest. Zagat and the Internet did not yet exist for suggestions, but hot dog dives were abundant and we stumbled upon several prime examples within just 2 miles of our house. And on occasion there was a review in the Chicago Tribune or Chicago Reader and we tried those establishments. Quite a few of these “Ma and Pa” places still exist, but many are long defunct.
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