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Big Nick’s Burger Joint and Pizza Joint Too

Posted on October 12, 2015 by nyweenies

The unexpected is never expected. Some of life’s best, worst, and certainly most impactful moments are unexpected. Unexpected can be happy, or it can be sad, but at the end of the day without unexpected moments life would be boring and crappy. This would mean no lottery winners, no news, no pearl harbor, no Lenny Kravitz ding-a-lings, no Janet Jackson nipple rings, and worst of all, no impromptu hot dog reviews. A google search of “where to eat hot dogs on the upper west side” took us to “Big Nick’s Burger Joint and Pizza Joint Too”, featuring “Giant Hot Dogs.” “Let’s go”, I declared.

Oh Big Nick, what big weenies you have! Look at all of those giant hot dogs. Walking into this place nobody in their right mind would imagine they would have a hot dog selection on their menu such as this. You can even make it deluxe, like it is some sort of a cheeseburger. I asked what their best dog was, as per usual, and the response was, “with cheese.” Obviously adding chili is never a bad option, so the cheese and chili melt was the obvious choice for this old boy. The environment here was very old school, local, and rooted in tradition. This would be a great late night stop in for a college student, but also a perfect early lunch spot for a retiree. There is nothing impressive, but I feel at home. Remember Grandma’s house growing up? It was kind of old, run down, and filled with a bunch of unnecessary things, but you liked it because Grandma cooked for you and let you stay up late? This is how I felt at Big Nick’s.

There is the dog itself. The Giant Hot Dog Melt. This is certainly a fat boy. At first glance, it reminds me of the quarter pound big bit at 7-11. A classic growing up for me, I began to feel even more at home. Unfortunately I didn’t see any French’s yellow mustard around, so I chose not to apply any mustard at all and eat as is. This is rare, but I felt it acceptable to allow the cheese to do some talking. Speak up, cheese! I’d like to take a moment and really let the cheese on this dog sink in – melt in your mind. Look at it. The cheese on this dog is a Kraft single. What?! At first, I though this was one of the most poor displays of culinary artistry I had ever seen. But no, the unexpected is never expected. The slice of cheese underneath the dog was the best part of the whole thing. I highly recommend it. It makes sense for Big Nick’s, too. They are a burger place first. Why not take some of the burger cheese and slap it on a dog? Epic creativity.

Now, I can’t make them sound too great because the dog itself was kind of dry, especially for being so fat, and the bun wasn’t hot, but was still somehow toasted. Furthermore, I got it deluxe simply because it sounded interesting, and the dog came with a big leaf of lettuce and two tomatoes on the side, like I was a rabbit. It made no sense. Stop it Big Nick. Don’t do that again. The chili wasn’t the best either, it lacked any sort of spice and started to look fecal after sitting in the open air for a few minutes. My personal goal in life is to avoid looking fecal at all costs.

3 weenies.

The Kraft single underneath the hot dog was revolutionary, creative, and downright titillating. However, it wasn’t a complete package. It’s a pretty decent spot overall, but if you don’t make it there, it would be expected.

Cheers

P.S. Is this a good new name? “Big Nick’s Burger Joint and Pizza Joint and Hot Dog Joint Also.” I’d consider it. Give the people what they want.

P.P.S. I have a map now! Check out where I’ve eaten all my weenies geography style: Map on BobbyPin

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Katz’s Delicatessen

Posted on October 5, 2015 by nyweenies

“Oh. Oh, God. Ohhhh. Oh, yes. Yes. Ohhhhhhhh… yes. God, oh, yes, yes. OHHHH God. OHHHH YES. YES. YES. YES. OH YES! OH GOD YES!” – Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. That happened in Katz’s Deli! Sorry if my words didn’t exactly match the scene, but if you have any knowledge at all of old movies, you know that scene. The only unfortunate part about it is that she wasn’t talking about her hot dog. Well, I was about to find out if a man like me could have a reaction like that to a hot dog in one of the most famous eateries in New York. By the way, I’ve never been a big Billy Crystal fan. Dat Meg Ryan, doe…

Such a scene. I took the above picture at 8 PM on Sunday. It was jam-packed… and they think they’re so cool because of it. What follows are random sentences to describe the “fame” of this place. Every picture on the wall is of a celebrity that has been there. When you enter the restaurant, you get a ticket. On that ticket is a price that gets written by hand by the servers behind multiple counters. You pay when you are done. There are a lot of neon signs, and half of them don’t work. You are surrounded by tourists. A guy at the door greets you and tries to put on a show. He asks if you’ve been there before and if you know how to order at Katz’s. He told me I looked like a stranger. He even commented on my shirt. HIs shirt was bland and crappy. I will only tolerate such behaviour (feeling British today) for a truly incredible dining experience. How was this experience? Meh. The Gus Frerotte of hot dogs.

I spend a lot of time writing about the restaurant itself instead of the hot dog, because, well, there’s not much to say here. I feel that the best way to review this hot dog is in a stream of conscience form: … Sauerkraut? Nahh, come on, man. OK. Damn them, its not even good ‘kraut. No yellow mustard? Kinda overcooked. Not bad? Bun, eh, kind of like the buns you buy at any store… ever. Frankfurter sign? Dope, I’d hang that in my room… hmmm kind of wrinkly. No snap. A little dry. Flavor is OK. Meh… Meg Ryan? Nice. OK time to leave.

Essentially it was a pretty average hot dog. On the positive side, it was cheap and served very quickly. So, if you’re craving one late night in the East Village by all means go. However, if I were you I probably would steer clear of this place for a hot dog. Maybe they can do sandwiches, but I really didn’t like being told what to do by the dude at the front who “could tell that I hadn’t been there before.” Give me a break, man, I know for a fact that I know my way around weenies better than you.

1.5 weenies.

This has been maybe the most disappointing review yet. This place was supposed to be one of the best according to some websites out there. That’s what sets me apart from the rest. I actually go to the place, and bring you the truth. I’m a modern day Nellie Bly. Joey Pulitzer. Sanjay Gupta. I don’t know, but I’m doin’ it for the people. The weenie fans out there – you guys deserve it. One love.

Cheers

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P.S. Katz’s, your sign game is poor. If you were an animal you’d be a camel. Everyone loves you until they actually meet you, realize you stink, there’s a big gross hump on your back. Also, you look dumb. Yeah.

The Cannibal

Posted on September 28, 2015 by nyweenies

Very often these posts will center around something perhaps more interesting than a hot dog. I’ll find a theme or some sort of joke to center the post around. At The Cannibal in the Gotham West Market in Hell’s Kitchen, there is no need for a theme or a joke. Let’s do an experiment. I am going to suggest an action. After performing the suggested action, describe your emotions, privately. It’s therapeutic. Here’s your action: scroll up a bit on the page, look at that picture again, then scroll back to me. What?! How insane is that?! My mouth is watering, my stomach grumbling, and my pupils are dilated into the shape of hearts. Like that emoji guys try to use to be romantic. That picture is just downright pretty. This post needs only words of praise, centered only around the hot dogs. Jokes? Where we’re going, we don’t need jokes.

This place has a fleet of hot dogs all with epic names. I felt like they were all part of an Italian mob. The guy in the middle? Oh, that’s Jimmy the Tulip. He’s the tough guy of the bunch. Super meaty because he’s dressed in pork rinds. But, he’s the negotiator of the crew because he’s also covered in Kale and a special sauce. He’s a total flip-flopper, and would be a great politician. The guy on the right? That’s Captain Sharp. He’s got style. Always polished and matching in the highest fashion, he’s got 3 different kinds of mustard on top with coleslaw. What a pretty boy. Then there’s that lanky guy on the left – the Cannibal Dog, we call him. This dude is nuts. When he dresses up like this, they call it “Tiger Style”, with spicy chili, Chinese mustard, and scallions (aka elegant onions). He can snap at any minute, and he does for however many bites it takes you to eat him. Lovable and loyal, he’s also wild and unpredictable. He’s my personal favorite. OK, so I did a little bit of a theme thing. Whatever, it was fun. Read it with a Tony Montana accent, you’ll thank me.

Each of the two dogs I ate (I didn’t eat Jimmy the Tulip – KK was all over him – I couldn’t split them up) was phenomenal. Let’s get into the details. Captain Sharp was a white sausage. Popular in Rochester, “white hots”, are uncured and unsmoked and usually contain some veal. Nice and meaty, they also offer a kind of rich flavor that is quite enjoyable and makes you feel fancy. Then, and this is a huge positive for The Cannibal, it was topped with Yellow Mustard. That’s right, the good stuff, classic French’s yellow mustard – the best in the world. They then added whole grain spicy brown. As a big mustard fan, I was pretty damn happy. Great sausage, great toppings, great bun. The only negative piece was there may have been too much mustard. I couldn’t taste anything else. (Not really a bad thing for me, but for you ketchup n00bz out there consider it a warning.)

The Cannibal Dog! I can’t put into words how good this was. The chili was really spicy, but didn’t kill you. The Chinese mustard was also potent, but went along so perfectly with the chili and the elegant onions (aka scallions) it laid on top of so gingerly. The toppings were great, yes, but I think what really set this wiener apart from other, similarly trendy wieners, was the frank itself. (To be frank.) I’ve written before about the snap. This one had the perfect snap. The best snap I’ve ever been lucky to be a part of. Please understand how important this is: it had the snap. Then, just to put pile more epic passengers on the already epic train, our waiter kind of looked like Tom Morrello. I also had a raspberry ale that was delicious. It was open to the street, so we got some outside air. They even had the Jets game on a projector inside. Gotham Market is cool. The Cannibal is cooler. Trendy hot dogs, Yellow Mustard, chili, and the snap heard ’round the world. Come to the Cannibal as soon as you can.

4.5 weenies.

For the record, the Cannibal Dog is currently the best hot dog in New York City.

*mic drop*

Cheers

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The U.S. Open

Posted on September 14, 2015 by nyweenies

If you’ve never been to the US Open, start planning right now to go next year. It is worth taking off work for, it is worth getting in a really serious fight with your significant other for, and it is worth lying on your resume for. It is totally 1%, yet not pretentious. It is quiet and relaxing, yet entertaining and engaging. I honestly don’t know how they make this event work so well, but it’s real. Food and drink is at every turn in all sorts of different varieties, there is high potential for celebrity sightings, and most importantly, there are weenies. In fact, a whole portion of the food area is dedicated to hot dogs. “Franks and Fries” was one of the most alluring hot dog options I have ever been around, simply because of the environment. However, I must lose any bias based on the event, temper my actions with wisdom, and review the frankfurter only… and stop thinking about Roger Federer’s calves.

(Linen is in…en?)

It’s a foot long chili dog. The “Coney Island Footlong Frank”. Y’all know I love my chili dogs, and y’all know I like ’em big and fat, and y’all know I was excited for this bad boy. Y’all know. For the record, this is the biggest hot dog I think I’ve ever eaten. There’s something about stadium dogs. If you remember my Yankee Stadium review, it was massive too, but this one was bigger. I applied the mustard myself and it was yellow (y’all know). The first bite was great – very beefy, a whole mess, and incredibly aggressive. For any WWE fans out there, this hot dog reminded me of Ryback. It’s just an over-the-top experience. Or, maybe I’m speaking of the WWE in general. Regardless, there’s a whole lot of hot dog here and if you have any doubt that you can handle it, step away immediately. But, if you can, feed me more.

To get technical, the bun is toasted quite well, and the chili a little mild, but true hot dog chili, that compliments the whole package with grace. My only gripe was that the weenie might have been boiled. You’d think that after so many years of devouring wieners that I would have a refined pallet and be able to identify these things – like a weenie sommelier. I do think I’m pretty refined, but this one was a complete brain buster. Something was off with the way it was cooked, and it felt a little too mass produced for my liking. There wasn’t a whole lot of soul in the sausage. My great grandma was a big proponent of putting soul in sausages, so that’s a pretty significant demerit to this one. Overall, a very good hot dog, but nothing to sell your soul for. Y’all know.

3 weenies.

P.S. The fact that Roger Federer lost is deeply saddening. He is truly the greatest tennis player of all time and it would have been awesome to see him win the Open this late in his career. Novak Djokovic is sponsored by Uni Qlo. Enough said. RF 4 lyfe.

Cheers

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Épicerie Boulud

Posted on August 31, 2015 by nyweenies

NY Weenies is not only entertaining, it is educational. Read on and you may discover new words, new ideas, or even yourself. This was my most interesting and most unique review yet. The reason for this is I went alone. Usually I have a companion for the journey, but this time I found myself in a situation where I had no friends. (Not that I don’t have friends, they were just unavailable at the time. That’s what they said, like… Jimmy had a thing, and Sandy had to watch her dog… and Bob, well, he was just “busy.”) So, little old me just meandered up 9th avenue in search of a weenie by myself. This is when I realized that writing about hot dogs is not some sort of game, or joke. Hot dogs are a passion. I now know that I can do this for as long as it takes – because I love it. Today, I discovered myself. I discovered that I… am a hot dog blogger.

Pictured above is the DBGB dog. Now that is a good lookin’ weenie. DBGB is also the name of one of chef Daniel Boulud’s restaurants. This Boulud dude is a legend. He has a bar and a Mediterranean restaurant and something else, all named after him, directly next to Epicerie, which is directly next to the beautiful Lincoln Center on 63rd and Columbus. Epicerie means grocery, by the way. If you’re ever bored, type it into google and listen to the lady’s voice pronounce it. It’s way more entertaining than I would have predicted. So, here I am at the french grocery store apparently, looking at an opera performance across the street about to consume an 8 dollar hot dog. Not a bad situation to be in. The restaurant itself doesn’t have any tables, and it seems to be catered towards takeout, but fancy takeout. There is a nice little bar area where you can grab oysters and have wine, but lets be real, ain’t nobody got time for that.

Unfortunately since I was alone I don’t have the classic NY Weenies first bite pic, but trust me, I bit. This is a really unique dog. The sauce covering it is kind of like a spicier, kethup-ier hollandaise. It’s really good. There’s also a nice refreshing slaw on the side that I just adore. The bun is well prepared. If I had to compare the bun to a person, it would be Britney Spears – hot and toasty, but kind of flaky with a tendency to fall apart. Again, a very unique bun. The frank itself is super juicy and fat, definitely all beef, and delicious. It doesn’t have that snap that I like so much, but the flavor is pretty ornate.If you put that one in google, a guy says the word, and it sounds like he’s got a stuffy nose. Also very entertaining.

The moral of the story is the dog is very good, but it’s almost a little too weird. I feel like they tried too hard. Again, I’m thinking about Britney Spears for some reason. It could have been a little more real, sloppy, uncut, raw, etc. Don’t be that kid in class that’s always asking questions and reminding the teacher that she didn’t collect the homework. That’s kind of how I felt about this weenie. Nice kid, though. Also since I was alone, I wasn’t distracted at all, and I wasn’t drinking, so you can definitely take this review seriously. Sacré bleu!

3.5 weenies.

Cheers

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Rosamunde Sausage Grill

Posted on August 24, 2015 by nyweenies

Where Brooklyn at?!?! That’s right, folks. The hills are alive with the sausages of Brooklyn. Quite honestly I went into this review with very few expectations. I had no idea what I was getting into, and all I really knew was that sausages and beer were a featured partnership in this establishment. Nothing else has to be said. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. So, without further delay I put on my most ironic outfit, tightest pants, and glasses that are absolutely unnecessary for my vision and hopped on the L train. What a scene.

24 beers on tap. 20 different sausages. In the heart of Williamsburg, Rosamunde not only offers a variety of high quality weenies and libations, it also exudes a great vibe. It certainly embodies classic Brooklyn stereotypes, but they are the good stereotypes and they are subtle. For example, they have two TV’s, each playing a different movie the entire time we were inside. One TV had Sammy Davis Jr. and Tony Bennett twirling cute little umbrellas and hanging from windows. The other featured a bloody, murderous Chinese man smiling and playing a ukulele. Similar, I suppose. The beer selection was as crafty as it gets, and super high quality. These beers were all top of the line and rare. I ordered a La Fin du Monde by Unibroue. What an incredible beer. It is 9 percent alcohol and has this golden caramel hue that has previously only been seen in Twix commercials. Find this beer now and consume it. I don’t care what you’re doing, it will be worth it. Driving? In church? Having a baby? Stop and drink this beer. It will be worth it.

I digress, my apologies, this is a hot dog blog. The best sausage was said to be the cheddar brat. I ordered it with chili and onions, then added some spicy brown mustard at the condiment stand. No yellow was available. I don’t know what it is about New York, but people really don’t appreciate yellow mustard as much as they should. This was the best looking weenie I’ve reviewed yet. Literally, this was the juiciest sausage that has ever juiced. The bun was this massive powdery floury thing that I was very unfamiliar with at first but eventually came to love. Kind of like SSBD’s. (Short sleeved button downs).

Oh my. Ohhhhh my. That’s a sausage. I enjoyed that.

NY Weenians, let me tell you, this cheddar brat was incredible. Juicy, flavorful, beautifully cooked, great chili, sweet onions, floury bun, infused with cheddar cheese, etc. etc. The list goes on and I will honestly say that this was the best sausage I have reviewed yet. But that is the problem. It was a sausage. This was technically not a hot dog. I can’t, as a hot dog fan and as an American, lie to the people and even give this a rating. I’m sorry to all that I’ve disappointed, but I can’t, “I just can’t even.”

0 weenies.

However, I am not lying when I say I loved Rosamunde. I will absolutely be back and it will be incredible again. Go there if you have any sense of decency. Whatever you’re doing, stop, and go there. It will be worth it. Mowing grass? Riding a pony? Watching the WWE? Stop at Rosamunde. It will be worth it.

Cheers

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Yankee Stadium

Posted on August 17, 2015 by nyweenies

‘Murica. The land of the free, and the land that gave birth to me. A place of competition, sports, baseball, and summer. There is nothing more American than Yankee Stadium. When I set foot in its massive white-fenced exterior, I couldn’t help but think that I was a true patriot. Furthermore, I was about to be even more patriotic by eating a mustard drenched hot dog in a historic ball park. Furthermore, I was again even more patriotic because I braved the threat of Legionnaires disease and the Bronx in general to be there. Furthermore, I took that existing patriotism and multiplied it by patriotism again to produce patriotism squared. You know how I got patriotism squared? The hot dog was not a standard hot dog. Oh no, it was a footlong. ‘MURICA! FOOT LONG WIENERS! Now, don’t tell anyone that I was there for a soccer game…

Good golly miss molly, look at that bad boy. This is a Hebrew National all beef wiener that has been rotating on hot steel for at least a fortnight. The bun is not toasted, and there was an option for onions or peppers but i respectfully declined. Their best dog was a classic with only yellow mustard. I also put the mustard on myself. (Because Americans work hard and are capable of doing things on their own. Capitalism. Adam Smith.) Just holding this beast of a sausage makes me feel manly. The smell, the chatter of thousands of fans surrounding me, and the sunset peeking through the pennants of years before make this a most memorable first bite. I even held the hot dog in my hands while the National Anthem was playing. (Think about the scene from Patton right now. Epic.)

What we had here was a good hot dog. There was nothing spectacular about it, and nothing unique to set it apart. The all beef taste was present, but it was lacking the snap, and lacking the toasted bun that I adore. What made this dog special was the environment it was eaten in and, most notably, its size. For all of you size queens out there, this dog is the dog for you. This was honestly, truthfully, a foot long. I’ve had other footlongs, but this one seemed bigger and better.

To quote the great Yogi Berra, the future ain’t what it used be. But I can tell you all with confidence, there are traditions that will always stick. The tradition of eating a hot dog in August at a baseball (or soccer) game is one that will be here forever. One day I hope to have a kid or kids and show them this tradition. Like a King passing his crown down to his Prince, I hope to pass down my hot dog to my son. So, the message here is not the rating that you see below, it is a message of American spirit. It is a message of family, hard work, and patriotism. God bless America.

3 weenies.

Cheers

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Papaya King

Posted on August 10, 2015 by nyweenies

I was not legitimate until now. Until this review, I was not a real hot dog blogger. But now, it’s like I found platform 9 and 3 quarters, hopped on the mustard express, and magically traveled to the University of Wieners and Franks. I am real. In a Field of Dreams, I am Shoeless Joe Jackson. In the Matrix, I am Neo. In Ghost, I am Whoopi Goldberg. E.T. phone home… I have accomplished my dream. Papaya King is an incredibly legitimate establishment. Popular film and television programs such as Seinfeld, Anthony Bourdain, How I Met Your Mother, and Crossing Delancey have mentioned this place. Although it never got a mention on Gossip Girl, I promise you it’s famous. Ladies and Gentleman, Papaya King.

Just look above these words. I don’t even need to write, but I will. On the Upper East side on 86th and Third Ave neon signs glow, beckoning all passers by to come in for a snack. There’s not much to this place, and there doesn’t need to be. The staff is very friendly, and they are proud to be there. When I asked for their best dog, the man behind the counter genuinely cared to know what my taste buds preferred. Eventually we came to the conclusion that I should have the classic. Sauerkraut and mustard. I knew that this was the classic coming into the place, and I was scared. Generally, I’m not a ‘kraut guy. I find it to be overbearing, and kind of like my Frankie’s on the Go post, that guy at the party who is loud and crappy and takes all the attention. But why, Jack? Why did I ever doubt the Germans? They invented the dog, why would I question their topping choices!? The spiciness of the mustard and the sour taste of the kraut mixed together to form this new harmonious flavor that I’d never tasted before. It reminds me of the first time I had a Yuengling. There’s something else out there? Shocked, I didn’t even realize how good the actual sausage was until the second bite. The snap is there, the temperature is perfect, and the bun is toasted with care. This is a dog of champions. Oh, and they’re 3 bucks? I’ll have another.

The second dog: plain with mustard. Look at those char marks on the dog. Look at how awesomely I placed the mustard on that bad boy. Look how epic-ly I devour it. I am in my element. Is this place perfect? Is this the best in New York? While it may be incredibly close, it never will be the king. For those that have read my “About Me” page, you know what I think about mustard. Keep it yellow. Papaya King does not have yellow mustard anywhere. I even asked, and it is nowhere to be found. While I kind of respect them for sticking to their guns, the fact of the matter is that they’ve made the wrong choice. I don’t care how much money Gulden’s is giving you, the better choice is to take money out of your pocket and literally pay French’s to be your sauce. At least have it in your restaurant.

Papaya King gets 4.5 weenies.

I absolutely love this place. I will be back, and it is definitely the best quality dog I’ve had in New York so far. However, I do believe that there is an establishment out there that knows how important yellow mustard is, and can rival this landmark in quality. I’ll leave you all with this quote from the great philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” Mustard is my music, and the rhythm I dance to is yellow. It is this music that blasts throughout my soul. Stay yellow, my friends.

Cheers

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Schnipper’s

Posted on August 3, 2015 by nyweenies

Sometimes in life you just have to leave the office and go on a hot dog review. After a very quick google search with relatively low expectations I found Schnipper’s. Then, after saying “Schnipper’s” to myself mutliple times and giggling even more multiples of times in between, it was time to devour a dog. A Schnipper’s dog. Ha… Schnipper’s. Schnipper’s is a pretty good name for, like, a pet fish… or gerbil. Yeah, Schnippers the gerbil. That’s it. Even better, say it in a heavy british accent, “‘Ello, this is Schnippers the gerbil! Look at him in his little tophat!” And I digress… let me guide you through this unexpected hot dog wonder of midtown that is Schnipper’s.

Located on Lexington and 51st, Schnipper’s is most definitely a chain. Albeit a small chain with only four locations, it still has a very chainy feel. There’s a line that has rules, and you take a little buzzy thingy to your table that doesn’t even buzz, and its a whole system that is pretty undesirable. I’m like a gerbil on his wheel; a cog in the machine. (I must miss my deceased gerbils from high school, Freddie and Jackson. Why else would I have mentioned gerbils twice in a blog?) Regardless, I was impressed by their freshly brewed sweet tea and fresh squeezed lemonade selection which allowed me make a refreshing Arnold Palmer. Even more importantly, I was pleasantly surprised when I asked for their best dog. The immediate answer was the sloppy dog. Sloppy Joe on a hot dog. Manwich on a Ball Park. Think about how fat that is. Heartburn, constipation, and early onset diabetes on a bun. Sign me up.

The weiner looks gorgeous. I can already tell the actual sausage is of high quality because of the way the skin curls at the end. It also has a balance of length and girth that compliments the bun well. Nestled on the glorious hilltop of hot dog is a massive mound of sloppy joe meat, adorned with cheddar cheese like an angel’s heavenly halo. My first bite is wonderful. I literally had to puncture the skin of the hot dog, which is exactly how it should be. There was the ever desirable snap, then an influx of sloppy joe meat that flowed into the classic hot dog taste for a perfect balance. I felt like Goldilocks in her chair with her porridge. Juuusssttt right.

OK, I know I’ve only been to a few places, but Schnipper’s was the best so far. Yes, its a little chainy, and yes, I laugh everytime I say Schnipper’s, but they made a damn good dog and I am incredibly happy that I discovered this place via google. There were the classic char-grilled elements of a hot dog that brought me back to, quoth Dick, “the good ol’ days of weiner-eatin”, and also the cafeteria inspired goodness of the sloppy joe. What a dog. I highly recommend it to the big and the small, the short and the tall… this dog is a dog for all.

4 weenies.

Cheers

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Old Town Bar

Posted on July 27, 2015 by nyweenies

Ahhhhhhhhh, chili dogs. Chili dogs, chili dogs, chili dogs. That’s right, my friends, the first chili dog I will review as a nyweenie bloggist starts right now. Before I begin, I need to preface this review with some very important information. The placement of chili on a hot dog as a topping is the single greatest thing to ever happen in the realm of food. Yes, mustard is the most important condiment for a hot dog, but that seems like a logical decision. Adding chili to a dog, well, that’s just flat out creative. Add 10 cc’s of creativity with a double dose of meat on a bun, then top it off with a little cheese. I’m pretty sure that is exactly what lies behind St. Peter and his gate. Now, I will try to be as unbiased as possible as I walk you through my experience at Old Town Bar.

Located on 18th street in the Flatiron district, Old Town Bar looks just as it sounds: old. This isn’t a negative usage of the word “old”, though. This place has character. The floors are aged tile, and the bar is marble. With high lofty ceilings, a lot of dark wood, and some chandeliers, I feel like I’m in another era. The beer selection is also wonderful. There is nary a TV in the establishment, and to quote my good friend Mike, “There’s not a single TV in here. This is a bar for drinking.” I order the chili dog, and it is easy to tell that it is a featured item on the menu, as it is in red, and in parentheses “(As featured on Martha Stewart)”. Well, now I’m excited, because if Justin Bieber is cool with getting roasted by Martha Stewart, I am definitely cool with eating a hot dog she recommends.

The weenie comes out, and it looks and smells amazing. Doused in chili, I can’t even see the bun. Quickly I realize that I won’t be able to pick this up and must attack with a fork. The first bite is great. The chili has some nice spice, and the frank is certainly of high quality. There is a nice little layer of shredded cheddar on top that melts just enough to please. On the side, I ordered potato salad which is a refreshing option over the usual fries or no side at all. Eating this dog is a full dining experience. At 11 dollars, this is one of the priciest dogs I’ve had, and it is truly wonderful. However, I can’t even pick it up, which is quite bothersome. It almost seems as if I’m not eating a real hot dog, and that takes away from the experience. We’ve found ourselves in a territory beyond buns, and it just doesn’t feel like home. It sure does make for a good picture, though.

After some intense deliberation, I have finally come to a rating: 3.5 weenies.

This may seem low based on what I wrote previously, but keep in mind that I am rating the hot dog. The experience is certainly a factor, but ultimately I’m looking for the best hot dog in NYC, not the best bar. As far as bars go, I highly recommend Old Town Bar. In fact, I will definitely be back to eat a standard dog and enjoy another craft beer.

Old Boys like old bars. This old boy really liked Old Town Bar.

Cheers

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