C'mon Get Happy, Dog!

With two visits in less than seven days I can safely say that it's been a Happy Dog kind of week. I chalk my not-so-sudden desire to consume encased meats with beer chasers up to the start of baseball season, but that's neither here nor there.

After my first visit to the Happy Dog I began to somewhat systematically taste and test as many of the toppings and sauces as my palate would allow. To date there are 15 options I've yet to try, but my apologies to the cabbage and bok choy based toppings: it ain't gonna happen.

The first trip to the HD this past week was for my birthday and the construction of the Breakfast Birth-dog:


Since these images never turn out quite perfectly it's a hot dog topped with: bacon, egg, chipotle hollandaise, habanero pickled onions, and nacho cheese. The perfect marriage of comforting breakfast fare and spicy zing. I got my tater tots with chipotle ketchup, raspberry crunch mustard, saffron aioli, and "killer" steak sauce. While I'm glad to have tried it, I wasn't blown away by awesome with the raspberry mustard. The rest were all solid in their own right, especially the steak sauce, which makes A-1 look like Z-26, if you get my meaning. And I think you do.

We swung by again last night after an evening work event for more hot dog on beer action. I took the topping approach in a totally new direction this time and came up with the Asian Invasion Dog:



For the sight impaired and/or those reading this on an iPhone this one goes like so: hot dog with teriyaki onions, marinated portabello mushrooms, wasabi peas, Thai chili-garlic sauce, and black truffle honey mustard. Like a pan-Asian vacation on a hot dog! Got some tots with mustards, both traditional yellow and dijon, along with Momocho's habenero hot sauce and chipotle hollandaise (my favorite). Both the mustards were incredible, making their store bought cousins seem weak and wimpy in comparison. Momocho's habanero was excellent if not what I expected. It's thick and creamy, like an aioli, whereas I was expecting something thin and vinegar base. Regardless the spice/taste balance is perfect, plenty of fire, but not so much that it overwhelms any other flavors or leaves you burning in agony afterward.

Bucket List

I was just alerted to this fantastic article recently run in Poor Taste magazine by sometimes WWEIL contributor and generally excellent dude, Erik Pepple. "The 100 Hundred Greatest Cult Restaurants in America" is an epic list--and not so subtle challenge to the gastronomically inclined--that scours our great nation in search of those joints that elicit fervent devotion and violent salivation from their customers.

Personally I would've liked to have seen Cleveland Heights classic-cum-crunchy diner, Tommy's on the list, as well as Columbus' Jenni's Splendid Ice Creams

Check out the article and see what Poor Taste has to say. See how many you've knocked out on your travels, and plot a new course to gastronomic enlightenment.

Cheers!

Hot Damn, it's Hot Dogs!

After what seemed like years of food haute couture, comfort food is making a strong resurgence. In the last five years or so a slew of notable restaurants have opened their doors to an adoring public clamoring for new takes on old favorites. The mighty hamburger has received a hardcore makeover at Chicago’s Kuma’s Corner. The humble grilled cheese has been boosted to legendary status by Cleveland’s Melt Bar and Grilled. And across the rest of the country macaroni and cheese, casseroles, and soups are all reclaiming their thrones in the pantheon of serious, delicious food. And now it looks as if the lowly hot dog is poised for a serious comeback.

Sure, the hot dog has long been standard fare at the ball park, camp outs, and lazy Sunday afternoon lunches, but recently there has been a hot dog renaissance throughout the Midwest. I think a lot of the credit for this re-popularization is due to Chicago’s Hot Doug’s who are renowned for filling their casings with a variety of wild game and exotic spices then topping them with everything from artisanal cheeses to homemade chili. Since its grand re-opening after a 2004 fire, the fervor and desire for gourmet dogs has spread with new establishments opening and established joints getting some much deserved love.
http://www.hotdougs.com/

What We Eat is Laughable is no stranger to the dog, both Justin and Nick have waxed poetic on the humble tube steak after visits to Columbus’ Dirty Franks and pilgrimages to Hot Doug’s and O’Betty’s in Athens, Ohio. I have, in the intervening months, had a wonderful Dirty Franks experience and there’s a Hot Doug-ing in my near future when we trek out to the Pitchfork festival this summer. I can not wait! But I’m here today to praise the burgeoning hot dog culture in the Cleveland area.
http://www.dirtyfrankshotdogs.com/
http://www.obettys.com/

I’ll begin with the humble Dog House on Coventry. A hot, tiny walk-in about a block from my apartment, the Dog House is a fantastic mom-n-pop dog shop serving things up simple and delicious. Most of the dogs offered at the Dog House are variations on the Coney and named for various Cleveland institutions. My favorite is the Tri-C, a mouthwatering combo of Chili, Cheese sauce, and Cheddar; get it? But if you’re in the mood for something different, the Dog House also offers Polish Boys, Cleveland’s signature encased meat dish. The Polish Boy starts with a Polish sausage (natch) and is loaded with coleslaw and fries, then topped with barbeque sauce. The Polish Boy is generally attributed to Seti’s, a lunch cart that can be found parked out side Dean Supply on Woodland Avenue, and is a favorite of Cleveland super-chef, Michael Symon. The Dog House also boasts one of the best Italian Beef sandwiches this side of Chicago, according to a Plain Dealer review of the establishment, but I’ve not tried it yet. As if that weren’t enough, the Dog House offers both regular and sweet potato fries along side their dogs, both of which are absolutely delicious, and fantastic hand dipped milk shakes. Though the Dog House can get a bit pricey, it’s definitely worth a stop when dining on the East Side.
http://www.yelp.com/biz/the-dog-house-cleveland
http://www.shopatdean.com/store/pc/home.asp
http://www.yelp.com/biz/setis-polish-boys-cleveland-2

The impetus for this column, however delicious the Dog House may be, is a new gem in Cleveland’s increasingly glittery Food Crown: the Happy Dog. Set up in quiet hole-in-the-wall bar on Cleveland’s west side, Head Chef Eric Williams (Momocho) has brought the Happy Dog back from the brink with the unbeatable combination of gourmet hot dogs and an amazing beer selection.

The Happy Dog shares a few things in common with some of the aforementioned doggeries, most notably a proliferation of amazing and unusual toppings, but where other establishments have pre-selected topping combos for you to choose from, the Happy Dog puts the power into the customers’ hands. The “menu” at the Happy Dog is a check list of the fifty (50!) topping options and sides. Customers choose between an all-beef frank, a veggie dog, or falafel and then check off as many of the condiments as they’d like at a flat rate of $5.00 per dog. And with such a laundry list of topping your dog options are nearly limitless, meaning each visit can be just as delicious but totally different from the last.

On my first visit I kept things (sorta) traditional, topping my dog with:
The chorizo chili was incredible, spicy but not overwhelming; it provided a hearty base for the tangy nacho cheese sauce on top. The caramelized onions brought some much needed sweetness to the party, balancing out the meatiness of the dog and chili, and the spice of the chili and cheese, as well as some texture to an otherwise soft palate dish. To keep this mountain of delicious company in my stomach I ordered a side of tater tots (quick aside: who would order fries when there are tater tots on the menu?) with a few sauces to dip them in.

I loved the chipotle hollandaise, it was creamy and spicy and unctuous and amazing, one of the best condiments I’ve ever tasted despite the fact that I think hollandaise is a little gross. I loved this so much I want to put it on everything from now on. The house made ketchup was disappointing in comparison, a slightly sweet, kind of sour tomato-y sauce that I kept expecting to get better, but it never really did. But the genius of the hollandaise and the hot dog more than made up for it.

The only problem I can foresee with the Happy Dog is: I can’t stop thinking about what I’m going to build next time! Brie, bacon, and onions with black truffle honey mustard? Smoked Gouda and Mole? Fried egg, bacon, chipotle hollandaise, and cheddar? I’m not sure, but I can’t wait to eat my way through this menu!

OH! And if gourmet dogs and a beer list fit for a king weren’t enough, the Happy Dog is quickly becoming a regular and reliable spot to see up-and-coming punk, indie, and country bands!
http://www.happydogcleveland.com/

Reuntied And It Feels So Good!

My old college roommate, Aaron, came back to Ohio for a visit this past weekend so naturally we had to celebrate by eating and drinking too much. Just like old times!

We met up Sunday night at the Cuyahoga County Airport where his younger brother, Tim, is a flight instructor. Tim was nice enough to take us, along with our friend Nick, up in a single prop, four seat plane for a sundown buzzing of the North Coast. We flew over Geauga County to look for my parents’ house and then out over the lake for a view of Cleveland few have seen. It was a beautiful evening and my first time in a plane so small, but the turbulence and stalls from the tiny air-machine were enough to unsettle even this roller coaster vet’s insides. All concurred on this point and it was decided that the only cure was beer and food. A short deliberation and the fact that even thought it was Sunday night there was still an hour wait at Melt (yeah, I told you it was that good) sent us to Lakewood’s Buckeye Beer Engine.

Affiliated with the Buckeye Brewing Company, the Beer Engine is a comfy little spot to grab any number of delicious beers, both from Buckeye and abroad, as well as chow on some seriously tasty bar food. And since Buckeye offers weekly and monthly specials every visit is new and exciting. For example March’s Ridiculously Huge Burger of the Month is the so-called O’Fatty Melt. Where the Beer Engine’s Fatty Melt nestles one of their ½ pound burgers between two grilled cheese sandwiches, the O’Fatty swaps out the grilled cheese for two (that’s right, 2) grilled Rubens! Seriously.

Anywhoozle, I’ve supped there a few times and have tried a couple of the Beer Engine’s delicious burgers, so I thought I’d go for something new this time. Well, a new burger at least. On this visit I opted for the Tuscan. Building on the ½ pound burger base the Tuscan is topped by herbed goat cheese, caramelized onions in balsamic reduction, roasted red peppers, and bacon (natch). Not being a fan of the texture of peppers I opted out of those, but it was fine since the rest of the burger was so flavorful. The ground meat blend the Beer Engine is extremely flavorful and benefits from not being cooked past medium. The bacon is, well, it’s bacon. And bacon is always good and beloved by all (even vegans) but unlike Cedar Lee Pub & Grill or Kuma’s Corner, BBE’s bacon is pretty standard; thick cut and flavorful for sure, but nothing amazing or out of the ordinary. The real stars of this show are the cheese and onions. The buttery, gamey zing of the goat cheese was the perfect foil to the sweet-n-sour onions ensuring that the Tuscan tagged three out of four taste buds with flavor graffiti that simply said “Awesome!” (4 of 5 if you’re the type to count “umami.”)

And at a place called the Beer Engine there was certainly beer being drunk, right? You bet there was! Round one I went up against Southern Tier’s Backburner 2010, the brewery’s latest entry in their annual Barley Wine run. With 10% ABV and a metric buttload of hops and malt, Backburner is a pretty serious brew, but certainly one of the most even keeled Barley Wines I’ve ever sampled. Most are so crammed with hops that they taste of grapefruits lost in pine forests (definitely a good thing), but this particular iteration falls more into the malty/caramel-y camp. In the second round I took on Buckeye’s own Beaucoup D’Houblon. A double IPA with saison tendencies, this ultra hoppy beer (115 IBUs) combines fruity esters and grassy/hay flavors to create a flavor profile similar to that of bubblegum! Not at all what I would expect a beer to taste like and I was certainly skeptical of the draught list that said as much, but there it was. Amazing hops burst, followed by grass and fruits, with an aftertaste that suggests a few hours old piece of original Bubble-Yum; delicious!
http://buckeyebeerengine.com/

Day two of this reunion was carried on at Fat Head’s Brewery and Saloon on Monday night, this time we were accompanied by Nick’s wife Melanie as well as Nicole. Fat Head’s is a Pennsylvania based brew pub that opened a branch in North Olmstead in the past few years. Fat Head’s boasts a roster of 10 beers brewed on rotation or based on season as well as offering dozens of other choice micro brews. March is, apparently, “Head Strong Month” at Fat Head, offering up “40+ extreme beers.” This means Fat Head’s guest beers, as well as a few of their own brews, are offering higher ABVs and IBUs, read as: beers not for the faint of heart. I started the evening off with a pour of Fat Head’s own Hop Juju Imperial IPA. Clocking in at 100 IBU and 9.3% this was a seriously delicious draught. Lots of citrusy hops and just the right hint of malt made this go down quicker and smoother than it should have. To chase it I moved over to the guest list for a Brooklyn Blast Imperial IPA (8.2% ABV). Another hopped up offering that drinks like the Brooklyn East India Pale Ale turned up to ten. It’s initially grapefruit city, then briefly detours into floral town, before swerving into a piney rest stop; like gin and grapefruit juice, only much, much better.

While most of the beers at Fat Head are big and flavorful, the “Fat” in the name comes from the food menu. There is nothing small or restrained about the menu, each appetizer, sandwich, and burger is bigger and meaner than the last. Having gorged on burger the night prior I skipped over that delicious and inimitable section in favor of the “Headwiches.” But with so many options I was completely stuck for what to get. My first thought was the “Bay of Pigs,” a mammoth take on the Cuban sandwich. Or maybe the “Head Banger,” a sandwich-ized take on the pub classic bangers and mash. Ultimately I picked the “South Side Slopes” for a variety of reasons—most of which were between the buns—but also because it was picked as one of the Best Sandwiches in the USA by that paragon of journalistic integrity: Maxim Magazine. I had to know if they were right or not. But before judgment is passed, let’s take a look inside. This monster starts with a huge grilled kielbasa, then topped by potato-cheddar pierogies, caramelized onions, cheese, and horsey sauce. Not to shabby, but does it all add up? At first, only sort of. Although I tried to get a little bit of everything into the first few bites I found the rest of the components to be totally over powered by the big and bold kielbasa. But after a few bites I finally got into it. The potato and pasta in the pierogies help mellow out the smokey bite of the sausage while the tangy cheddar and horseradish add some sharper notes to the big brassy tones of sausage and potato. And the caramelized onions once again add some much needed sweetness to the mix. Delicious to be sure, but I’m not sure if it ranks as one of the Best Sandwiches in the USA.”
http://www.fatheadscleveland.com/

Between these outings and the trip to Detroit I’m certainly no healthier than I was last Thursday, but I got to spend time with some of my favorite people, eating amazing food and drinking fantastic beers. Certainly time well spent!

I couldn’t find the original Maxim Best Sandwiches article, but another source (http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/04234/365002-46.stm) provided the rest of the top ten:
10. Steak & Cheese -- Mugsy's Sub Galley, Yankton, S.D.
9. Cuban Sandwich (of pork, ham, etc.) -- Latin American Cafeteria, Miami.
8. French Dip -- Phillippe the Original, Los Angeles.
7. Brisket Sandwich -- Kreuz Market, Lockhart, Texas.
6. Beef On Weck -- Schwabl's, West Seneca, N.Y.
5. The Southside Slopes Headwich -- Fat Head's.
4. The (half shrimp, half oyster) Peace Maker -- Acme Oyster House, New Orleans.
3. The Combo (of rib tips and pig snout) -- C & K Barbecue, St. Louis.
2. The Nuke (ham, beef, turkey and three cheeses) -- The Staggering Ox, Helena, Mont.
1. The Fat Darrell (chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks with marinara and fries) -- R.U. Grill & Pizza, New Brunswick, N.J.

Liver Punisher: Chicago Follow Up

Curious about some of the places I mentioned in my previous post? Here's some more information on (almost) all the stops we made in about the same order as presented yesterday:

Delilah's: http://www.delilahschicago.com/

Underbar: http://underbarchicago.com/

Arturo's: http://www.arturos-tacos.com/ (barbacoa on top, al pastor bottom right, quesodilla bottom left!)


Bite: http://www.emptybottle.com/bite.htm

Quimby's: http://www.quimbys.com/index.php

Cleo's: http://www.cleoschicago.com/

Map Room: http://www.maproom.com/

California Clipper: http://www.californiaclipper.com/

The Continental: http://tiny.cc/continental978

Village Pizza: http://www.yelp.com/biz/village-pizza-chicago

Sweet Cakes: http://www.sweetcakeschicago.com/

Jam: http://www.yelp.com/biz/jam-chicago

Liver Punisher: War Journal Chicago

With a more traditional work schedule during installation at the museum I was able to sneak away to Chicago for a few days this past weekend. Likely the greatest city in the world, Chicago combines the gritty, urban quality requisite of any major metropolis with a certain heartland charm one finds only in the American Midwest. As a friend of mine once said during a visit to da home of da Bears, “I like Chicago; it’s the only big city where you can see fat people.”

And this is not without reason. A former center of the meat packing industry and situated in America’s ever expanding beltline, Chicago is a city with food in its blood. 24 hour eateries abound, as do 4am bars for those late night carb-load sessions. And for every upscale joint serving mini portions of micro-greens there’s some greasy spoon topping half the menu with bacon and the other half with cheese. Not saying one is better than the other, just saying there’s a lot to eat in Chicago, we just seemed to favor the latter.

Upon our arrival Nicole, my lovely travelling companion, and I were ushered off to Delilah’s. A dive-y little hole-in-the wall with graffiti’d walls, recycled art in the stairwell, and a steady stream of punk on the jukebox, Delilah’s is the kind of place at which I love to drink, but rarely find. Kind of loud, a little dirty, dimly lit, but definitely charming, we wetted our travel weary whistles with Pin-Head Pale Ale (I think), as well as Hop-Goblin and PBR, the old stand-by. As revelers began to disperse we made our way, via cab, to Underbar, a bit nicer, but still understated, Underbar boasted a solid tap and bottle selection, but I continued to drink on the cheap.

Having sufficiently self-medicated our travel aches Nicole and I realized we had neither of us eaten since lunch and it was now in the neighborhood of 3am. We departed Underbar on a mission for food, our destination: Arturo’s. Open 24 hours-a-day, Arturo’s serves simple, delicious Mexican fare low on frills but high on taste. The menu is simple enough, broken down into tacos, burritos, soups, platters, breakfast plates, and so on, even boasting an offal section, brains, tongue, and tripe are all available to fill your tortilla. We were, of course, given a basket of chips and some salsa to fuel our menu perusal; the chips were thick and hearty, at least by tortilla chip standards, accompanied by a chunky pico de gallo and a fiery salsa verde, all delicious. Our waitress, with the patience of a saint, finally took our orders after much hemming and hawing over the menu. Mine: one chorizo taco and a quesadilla, not on the menu, but a must-get if you’re ever there. Nicole’s: an avocado taco and one with barbacoa, a steamed beef with Mexican seasoning topped with cilantro and diced onion; think Mexican pot roast sandwich and you’re close. It was juicy, tender and the perfect mix of great beef flavor, spices, and toppings. All this delectable food came wrapped in some of the most delicious corn tortillas I’ve ever had. Arturo’s was a big win.

Getting some rest after the long drive and a night of carousing we met up with some more of Nicole’s Chicago friends for brunch at Bite. Cute and quirky, Bite seats about forty, max, and has menus hidden in the covers of old children’s books. We ordered coffee and the donut of the day while we waited for our dining companions. The coffee was excellent, rich, dark, flavorful, everything coffee should be, and so good, in fact, that I drank my second cup black and loved every sip as much as the first cup with cream. Oh, the donut of the day? A whole wheat donut. With maple glaze. Oh, and crumbled bacon. Awesome. The menu at bite is short but full of great choices, sure there are the traditional options: omelets, pancakes, egg sandwiches, etc., but when was the last time you had the option of seitan “chorizo” in grilled veggie hash or bacon laced, cornmeal griddlecakes with homemade applesauce and honey-cinnamon butter (hers and his choices respectively)? Hunger sated once again we opted for some mid-afternoon napping before another big night on the town.

Rested and showered, Nicole and I made our way out once again, this time on a search for gift wrap. We thought Quimby’s might have something that works, they didn’t, but the look was worth it. Next time you find yourself in Chicago with a dearth of reading material swing by this bookstore for an amazing selection of graphic novels, artist books, zines, indie mags, and political fare. Undaunted we continued our search for gift wrap with some coffee from a local shop that roasts its own beans on site. The quality and care was evident as our brews were hearty and delicious, as well as the much needed fuel for another long night on the town.

Our first stop was Cleo’s. Nicely appointed and on the classier side of things, Cleo’s certainly wasn’t the normal stop on our tour of Chicago, but as a former employer of Nicole’s it was well worth the stop. The bar boasts a solid draught and bottle selection and some excellent munchies. My first round was New Holland’s Ichabod, a seasonal offering from the Michigan brewery, Ichabod is a great fall choice, brewed with real pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg it was like Thanksgiving in a bottle. Round two: a Liberty Ale from the Anchor Brewing Co., a lightly colored, fully flavored beer, Liberty is always a great choice. Nicole’s libations were a combination of Beamish Stout and Lindeman’s Framboise lambic. I’d heard of this combination before but had never tried it before. It’s amazing! It’s beer and dessert all in one! To sop up some of the sauce we ordered fried cheese cubes which were as delicious as they sound: chunks of cheddar in cornmeal breading served with a side of ranch. Having taken a few steps in the right direction at Cleo’s we walked down the street to the Map Room. Its walls adorned with old maps and bookshelves filled with old National Geographics, the Map Room’s eye for the exotic complemented the bar’s impressive beer selection. I could barely pronounce the name of my beer, I’m pretty sure it was Belgian, so I can’t recall its name at this point and Nicole’s was made with dandelions. Once Sarah and Matt showed up we headed out for food, but with another bar appointment looming we opted for a bite that would be quick: Arturo’s!

Back in what I think was the same table and plied with chips and salsa, the same pico, but partnered with a smokey salsa roja this time, I scoured the menu for something new. Remember how amazing the barbacoa was I knew that was definitely mine, but I needed something else. One of the other taco options was al pastor and was briefly described by the menu as: “Mexican gyros.” This seemed familiar to me and I eventually remembered that a recent viewing for No Reservations had Tony nomming on some tacos al pastor while in la Ciudad de Mexico, D.F. With the Bourdain seal of approval my order was set, this tasty pairing was complimented by another quesadilla—yes, they’re that good! Nicole and Sarah chose pozole and nachos respectively. The nachos looked amazing, a huge pile of chips with melty cheese, avocado hunks, and refried beans. The Pozole, however, was quite impressive! First of all it was a vat of soup. The salad bowl we use at dinner most nights was smaller than the vessel this came in. But luckily it was delicious! A rich, spicy pork broth full of slow cooked chunks of pork and hominy (corn soaked in lye) is presented with limes, avocado, and cabbage for garnish. It was fantastic, the broth was intense and flavorful with lots of garlic and cayenne, the pork was fork tender, with the hominy adding a lot of body and texture.

A firm foundation in place, we were back to the bars. First stop: the California Clipper. When our cab posited us out front we were greeted by about fifty cyclists saddling up for the ride home or to the next bar, Fridays seem to be some sort of bike night. Inside the bar’s décor was sparse but with a vintage flair, catering to a younger, hip crown and leaning towards a country/rockabilly aesthetic, this made sense. There was a solid live band, banging out tunes Carl Perkins and Patsy Cline would’ve dug we tossed back PBRs, chatted with friends that showed up and, of course, cut a rug. As last call neared we considered our options and the decision was made, by the Chicagoans not me, to wander down to the Continental, a 4am bar not far away. My opinion on the place still isn’t clear. On the one hand I walked through the door to the Future of the Left and enjoyed a few PBRs with some more (mostly) great music. On the other hand, it’s a 4am bar, and the parade of desperation was long and miserable. Combining the drunks with the sexually desperate was tragic-comically delicious for a while, but became just plain, old tragic after a while. Fun nonetheless.

Having consumed a sufficient amount of beer for the night we decided to walk it off on the way home. Helping us on our quest for a hangover-less tomorrow was Village Pizza whose massive slices rival the small pizzas at other places. We dined on a stoop and washed it all down with that finest of fizzy lifting drinks, Cherry Coke.

Morning, well afternoon technically, arrived and we found ourselves in further need of sustenance. Brunch was agreed upon; the location was simply called Jam. A new eatery gaining a swell of good press lately, we were asked to wait half-an-hour before sitting. To kill time we walked next door to a little bakery called Sweet Cakes and surveyed their cases. There wasn’t a thing there I didn’t want to eat, but standouts include: carrot-cup-cakes with white chocolate/cream cheese frosting, orange cupcakes with vanilla frosting and candied orange peel, and corn muffins with a hard boiled egg baked into the middle (if anyone out there in the blogosphere knows how to pull this trick off, let me know!). We ordered a few drinks and walked back outside to wait for our table, my lemonade and iced Earl Grey concoction—henceforth known as a Nick Faldo—was just what I needed. Our names were called and Nicole, Julie, Sarah, and I took our seats. The menu at Jam is short in length, but long in ideas. How does malted French toast with macerated stone fruit and whipped cream sound? Maybe an egg sandwich with fried pig cheeks? Or skirt steak with poached eggs? And that’s just the breakfast menu! My dining companions ordered the French toast and steak and eggs, I however, opted for a lunch menu item, the eponymous Jamburger! A Ridiculous Eats contender, the Jamburger is a double cheese burger topped with a fried egg and smokey tomato sauce. The burgers were rich, flavorful slabs of quality beef cooked medium rare and topped with two slices of butterkase cheese—a rich, flavorful white cheese that tastes like cheese mixed with butter—and the homemade tomato sauce they pour on top was phenomenal! Mix in a little cream and you’d have a hell of a tomato soup! Plus the fattiness of the cheese and burger mixed with the sauce’s great sweet/smoked flavor gave the illusion of the burger also having bacon on it. With a side of slightly sweet seasoned fries, lots of cayenne and cinnamon in the mix, this was more than just brunch; it was my meal for the day!

Filled to maximum capacity we decided to walk off our brunch for a bit and set our sites on the Bucktown Arts Fair, we wended our path there by way of yard (stoop?) sales and quirky stores we passed along the way. We wandered around the fair for a bit stopping in and out of stalls as we saw fit, before making our way down the midway of food stalls. Not your grandpa’s fair food, the Bucktown Arts Fair Boasted Indian wraps, gyros, and gourmet pizza. I gulped down a lemonade—of the half lemon, cup of sugar, and hose water variety available at just about ever outdoor event—and shared some fried-in-front-of-us potato chips topped with cheese sauce and bacon bits with the rest of the team.

With sun setting, legs tiring, and a work day looming ahead of one of us, Nicole and I parted ways and made for the land of Moses, Cleaveland that is. Unfortunately the Indiana/Ohio turnpike system is devoid of anything worth eating, or mentioning at least, so our drinking and dining tour of the Windy City ended with fair food, but there are certainly worse ways to end a vacation.

Happier than a pig in a slop sandwich...

Inspired by what Anthony Bourdain called "the greatest sandwich in America," I put this into my body on Saturday:



That's a breaded, fried pork tenderloin with American cheese, fried egg and bacon on white bread. I was going to have a sausage patty added to this too, but I chickened out at the last second. This was surprisingly delicious, considering that I bought it from a bait shop in rural Indiana.

Still, this is not the most ridiculous sandwich I have come across in my travels. Not by a long shot. So far, that crown belongs to Louisville's Hot Brown:



Yes, folks, that's a sandwich. Open-faced turkey, covered with Mornay sauce, cheddar cheese and bacon. Just looking at that should make your arteries afraid...

Dirty Frank's Hits a Hot Dog Homer

Elizabeth Lessner owns some of Columbus's best-themed restaurants, like the Ohio-proud Tip-Top Kitchen and the estro-centric Surly Girl Saloon. So when Lessner announced last summer that she was going to open a hot dog restaurant in Columbus, it drew a lot of attention from the indie and foodie crowds.

The hot dog is not just for little kids and backyard cookouts anymore. The once humble tube steak has been given a makeover by restaurateurs worldwide and made into a sort of working man's haute cuisine. One of the most outspoken champions of the hot dog renaissance is Doug Sohn, owner of Hot Doug's in Chicago. Sohn's gourmet turn on hot dogs and sausages (today's most enticing special: Red Bell Pepper Wild Boar Sausage with Sun-Dried Tomato Mustard and Pistachio Pecorino for only $8) has grown to be so popular that customers can expect a 45-60 minute wait in line (around the corner and down the street, even in winter) .

Knowing Lessner's reputation, I expected great things from a hot dog restaurant with her spin. Of course, that was a year ago, before the problems began. The book on the opening of Dirty Frank's Hot Dog Palace, for most restauratuers, could be titled "How to Fail in the Food Business Before Serving Your First Plate." Code problems, city inspections, licenses, theft, you name it: Lessner had to deal with it. So many problems, in fact, that it took over a year for Dirty Frank's to finally open its doors.

But thanks to a devoted following, the anticipation for Dirty Frank's debut never waned, and on July 1st, 2009, Lessner threw open the doors to an appreciative (and hungry) throng of frankfurter fans. My lady and I stopped in on opening night to see if Dirty Frank's would live up to expectations. The first sign that things were going to work out? No open tables at 10pm...

First thing's first: I love the decor in here. It's almost as if it was designed to appeal to me, Justin R.L. Hemminger. The wall art consists almost entirely of crude paintings of obscure Reds and Indians baseball players (Chris Sabo & Julio Franco, for example) and '70's & '80's heavy rock bands (Thin Lizzy, G'n'R, Motley Crue, etc.). There's even a hand-painted version of Michael Jackson's Thriller album cover hanging over the bar (a late addition, I'd guess). The place just screams "hot dog stand" in the most personal, kitschy kind of way. All that said, the table setting is a great amalgam of hot dog stand and Lessner-class:




To our dismay, they were all sold out of draught beer by the time we sat down at our table, but we were able to catch one of Dirty Frank's specialties: boozy slushes. We both got the "Chris Sabo": cherry slush with orange vodka. Delish...




But we didn't come here to get drunk (we showed up drunk!); show us to the hot dogs please! Erin got a Dog From Hell (spicy giardiniera pepper mix & cream cheese) and a Chicago dog (fresh tomatoes, diced onions, sport peppers, pickle relish, dill pickle, yellow mustard, & a dash of celery salt - just like they do it in Chi-town). They use real Vienna Beef hot dogs here - no cheaping out:




As much as I love a Vienna Beef dog, I wanted to be a little more adventurous with my encased meat choices. I opted for the Ohioana jumbo beef dog (sweet corn, pickle and jalapeno relish with a dash of celery salt) and a Zippity Zam bratwurst (spicy sriracha cream cheese and roasted red peppers):




We also got an order of fresh cut fries (covered in cheese and bacon) and a side of mac 'n' cheese topped with three whole sport peppers. The fries were about as good as you'd expect, long and stringy, covered with ample cheddar and bacon bits. The mac by itself was creamy and perfect (Lessner has nailed this at her other restaurants) but the addition of the spicy sport peppers really added a depth that mac 'n' cheese often lacks.

DUDE, C'MON!!! TELL ME ABOUT THE DAMNED HOT DOGS!!!!!

Dirty Frank's really delivers. The Dog From Hell's pickled vegetables and cream cheese played off each other so well that it almost made you forget there was a delicious hot dog under there. A bite of all three at once was heaven in a poppy-seed bun.

I've eaten Chicago-style hot dogs from several of the Windy City's best regarded establishments (the aforementioned Hot Doug's, Portillo's, Superdawg, etc.) and the Dirty Frank's Chicago dog is every bit as good as any of them. They use all the right ingredients, including the neon green relish and sport peppers you can only get from Vienna. A Chicago dog is not for everyone (salad on a bun?), but if you're a fan, this will not disappoint.

I think I may have made a tactical error with my Zippity Zam: I replaced the regular hot dog with a beef brat, and I think that sausage's strong flavor overwhelmed the mild complexities of the roasted red pepper. Red peppers go great with almost anything, but their subtle decadence was muscled out by the brute force of the brat. I'll give it another shot with the regular hot dog next time.

The real highlight here was the Ohioana. Dirty Frank's corn relish is such a wonderful compliment to a great all-beef hot dog. It's sweet (corn), tart (pickle) and spicy (jalapeno) all at once and just perfectly accentuates the flavor of the hot dog beneath.

Not only did all of these dogs surpass all expectations, but the price is perfect: every hot dog on the menu is only $3, with the option to upgrade to a polish sausage, brat, jumbo dog, or even a veggie dog for a small additional charge. Some of these dogs are worth twice the price, but in this economy, who wants a high-falutin' fancy frank that'll dent your wallet?

Dirty Frank's got everything right, down to the last bite. Well, WELL worth the wait.