One week ago today, summer came to a close. I know it seems late, but the calendar doesn’t lie, except in February, and summer doesn’t contain February as a month in its season, so I know it’s being honest. Anyway, this summer was another memorable one for me, much of it spent in an odd fantasy land out on Long Island. Because of this fantasy world I was living in, I got distracted, and I failed you as a hot dog blogger. I was selfish. I let the fun get to my head. There’s no time for fun when there’s work to be done. I let the little devil on my shoulder tell me what to do, when the angel was consistently telling me to review more hot dogs. So, I apologize, and starting now, there will be many more weenie blogs, as there are many more weenies to eat. It is my destiny that I must return to. What the world needs is more hot dog truth. As written in John 8.32, “Then you will know the truth, and the truth shall let you eat.”

Hamptons Weenie 1: Old Stone Market

It’s a brioche bun, well-toasted, cuddling with a grilled Sabrett frank that took a bath in spicy brown mustard. It was prepared by the nicest woman you’ll ever meet, at the weirdest, most useful roadside store in Amagansett that you’ll ever see. There are even chickens roaming the parking lot. Back to the dog – its pretty solid, good snap, but too bready. Other things that are bready: croutons, Meatloaf (the singer), and French people. That’s not a good crew to associate with.

3.25 weenies

Hamptons Weenie 2: The Oceanside Inn

Above is pictured an impromptu weenie that was far more satisfying than expected. If you ever need a weenie after a long day at the Sloppy Tuna, bounce on down the beach to this weird little Euro-tourist spot and enjoy this filleted frank. Huge weenie, tiny bun. Other things with huge weenies and tiny buns: … use your own imagination.

2.75 weenies

Hamptons Weenie 3: Goldberg’s

Here we have a two weenie combo platter served up by your breakfast specialists at Goldberg’s. This is a meal fit for a king – Leo DiCaprio himself was spotted in line at Goldberg’s just finna have a bagel one day. This meal was fit for me, indeed. The buns were warm and toasted, but not too much, and the sausages were thick, juicy, and smoky. These were also filleted, which must be a long island thing, which also tampers with one of my favorite parts of eating a hot dog: the snap. Redeeming the lack of snap was the presence of yellow mustard. That precious nectar can save anything. So, Goldberg’s, you were good, but not great. However, “good but not great” does in fact give you the title of “Best Weenie in the Hamptons.” Congratulations, Goldberg’s, see you next summer.

3.5 weenies

Cheers

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