comedy | nyweenies

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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Special Edition: Labor Day

Posted on September 7, 2015 by nyweenies

It’s Labor Day. This means that on Monday we don’t go to work. Let’s be honest, nobody else knows anything more about Labor Day except for your 10^th Grade History teacher. Not even your 4^th Grade History teacher knows why we have it (sorry, Mrs. Howard). Anyways, without work, what do we, as Americans, do? That’s right! We act as American as possible. What is being as American as possible, oh NY Weenie man? Here are some words to describe what every person should be doing on a Monday get-out-of-work-for-free-American-holiday: outside, sun, beer, family, sports, anthems, red, white, blue, hot dogs, chili, baseball, Washington DC, Nationals game. So, I spent my Labor Day watching cricket over some tea. NAY! I went to the Nats game, in DC, with my folks, and ate one of the most famous hot dogs of all time from Ben’s Chili Bowl. God Bless America.

Usually I first write about the place, the experience, etc. This time I want to get right on in to the part about the hot dog. Ben’s Chili Bowl was visited by Obama in 2009. Bill Cosby, although he may not be so popular anymore, has been known to frequent Ben’s, and has outwardly stated that it is his favorite place to eat. Ben’s has a rep, and is one of those places you’ll see on the travel channel one day. It has become so popular that it has a location inside Nationals Park. While obviously I’d rather visit the original, it’s pretty far away and I had a train to catch. Plus, it’s pretty awesome eating a hot dog at a baseball field. Plus, I didn’t want my family to risk running into Bill Cosby…

I got the half-smoke. What is a half-smoke? It’s a big ass hot dog blended with a little pork sausage, essentially. There is definitely some different flavor to it, but it isn’t enough to take it out of the hot dog category for me. This bad boy is plump. Covered in chili, mustard, and onions, it is a mouthful and a hot mess. The first bite was super juicy, spicy, and delicious. There was chili everywhere. I looked like Ralphie’s little brother Randy from a Christmas Story. Now, I’ve always been a huge proponent of the chili dog. Raised to love the chili dog, this moment brought it all full circle for me, because I even got to enjoy it with the very person who raised me this way. Remember back when I reviewed the Yankee Stadium dog? I said I wanted to hand down the weenie throne and educate a young boy about the sausage. This was that moment, y’all. The plateau of hot dog education was occurring. Today, I earned my PhD in the weenie.

Look at the focus on those ol’ boys.

I don’t want to go too far and give this dog a serious rating because I don’t want to lose sight of my mission. This hot dog is not served in New York, so please know that it will not be considered in the race for the golden weenie. I will, however, say that it deserves 4 weenies. Get it. It is worth going out of your way for if you are in DC.

So, what else happened at the game? The Nats lost a crucial game to the Mets, 8-5, but I saw a grand slam, got some discounted Heinekens, went to the bathroom three times, and even got my picture taken with William H. Taft, the 27^th President of the United States. Why did I pick Taft? Well, he was also a Chief Justice, the inventor of the seventh inning stretch, rocked a sweet moustache, and more importantly, got stuck in a bathtub one time. My hat goes off to you Mr. Taft; I can only hope to one day be as gracefully gluttonous as you.

Hardcore weenie reviewing resumes next week. Stay tuned.

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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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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National Hot Dog Day: An Homage

Posted on July 23, 2015 by nyweenies

It is July 23rd, 2015. The National Hot Dog & Sausage Council of the USA has found it in their hearts to declare this day a day for celebration. Go forth and celebrate, my friends!! This post will be a two part homage to get us all in the mood to enjoy our hot dogs today.

Part 1: History

According to the American Meat Institute, sausages on rolls were first sold in the 1860’s. The first recorded hot dog vendor was Charles Feltman in 1871 on Coney Island here in good old New York City. In 1893, there was a massive Colombian exposition in Chicago, and the hot dog blew up from there. The same year, it was the official snack served in ball parks across the country. The name literally comes from making fun of dachsunds, or wiener dogs. So, there is your real hot dog history… below is my paraphrased version.

“A bunch of German dudes were really into their sausages from Frankfurt known as Frankfurters. This awesome, genius, demi-god of a man named Chuck Feltman came across the pond and sold a bunch of his incredibly delicious sausages on bread. No fork needed! The invention then becomes American as !*$&, and they’re being dished out left and right at ball games and from carts in cities around the country. Next thing you know, we’ve got Nathan’s Hot Dogs, Ball Parks, Hebrew Nationals, Sabretts, Kobayashi, Joey Chestnut, the Oscar Meyer Weenie-Mobile and the greatest food on the planet. God bless Chuck Feltman. God bless hot dogs.”

(Pictured above: Chuck Feltman, the legend, and below George Washington being served his first dog. Note: he was gluten free.)

Part 2: An Original Poem

Pure Bliss

Devolving from a human state

The first bite, a kiss…

A kiss of meaty goodness!

Eternal desire

The hot dog is what I taste.

May your mustard shine forever

And your skin eternally crisp.

You, glorious weenie, are it.

Pure Bliss

So, with that, and before I get emotional, thus ends my homage. Go out and get those weenies today, and enjoy the gift on earth that is the hot dog. Below, I leave you with my own home-grilled creations cooked on the family grill in Virginia.

Cheers

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