In Memoriam

My own photograph, taken (I believe) from the Staten Island Ferry, possibly fall 1995.

The Best Hot Dog Ever

All jokes aside, I'm not really that in to hot dogs. They're good, like at a ball game or park. I have had some excellent ones. There was a vendor at the World Trade Center who would grill them; I always took visitors there for the view and the hot dog. Chicago as a city worships the hot dog, with celery salt, tomato slices, and other oddities--but they are tasty. But I don't seek them out. I'm more of a chicken finger gal. But DP loves her hot dogs. Good ones, mediocre ones, though not bad ones (she shuns the microwaved hot dog). She likes all the toppings and loved when we lived in Chicago with a hot dog shack on every corner. But then she is from NYC, home of the hot dog cart on every corner . . .

Anyway, the other day I accidentally left my cooler of lunch for the kids at home during one of our outings. Good grief, what were we going to eat? As luck would have it, the tiny cafe at the museum sold hot dogs. Hot dogs without any of the fillers that my kids can't eat. Sure, the lady with the son who had celiac and was also reading the label noted, they had nitrates, but what is a cooler-less mom to do? So we had hot dogs. All three of us. And they couldn't have been happier! First, it was the kind of food everyone was eating, including Mommy. And they do love hot dogs (even the uncured turkey dogs I buy from the natural food store). So now we've eaten hot dogs all over Connecticut--at the orchard where we picked our own apples, at the zoo, at the mall. Without any allergic reactions. It's fantastic. They're having a great time being like everyone else. And even if it's a mediocre hot dog, it's the best food ever.