My Ideal Chicago Dog
An opinionated take on a Chicagoland classic + a review of the Chicago-style croissant at Daisies
When it comes to hot dogs, everybody has a choice brand, a preferred cooking method and strong predilections for certain condiments. I’m not here to proclaim a universal “best;” I’m here to share an opinionated take on my favorite frank.
I’m also not going to debate the merits of regional styles. Slaw dogs, Sonorans, Coneys—they are all good. I’m limiting my discussion to Chicago—where I’ve resided since 2002 and where I’ve consumed the greatest number of hot dogs to date.
First off, living in Chicago means nearly every hot dog experience will feature first-rate tubed meat. Most stands source weiners from Vienna Beef or Red Hot Chicago (a Vienna Beef spin-off), so an all-natural, pure beef beauty with snappy skin is a given.
Accordingly, what sets a hot dog apart in this hot dog-loving town—there are more than 2,000 dog-focused establishments in Chicago—is not the dog itself, but the way it’s cooked and how it’s dressed.
There are three typical preps in Chicago: steamed, water-simmered or grilled over charcoal. Char-grilled is the only way I’ll order my dog (unless I’m in the unfortunate position of ending up somewhere that doesn’t offer char-dogs…harrumph).
The first two preparations remind me of the dreary specimens of my youth: home-boiled BallParks, cut into coins and served with ketchup (yuck!) and New York City’s dirty-water Sabretts (double yuck!).
Cooking with charcoal is a hassle: it’s messy and unhealthy for those manning the grill. Yet it’s the only technique that elevates the humble frankfurter to crave-worthy status. The live flame crisps up its exterior; the charcoal lends a pleasingly smoky and nutty flavor.
I like my char-dog “dragged through the garden,” which means yellow mustard, chopped white onions, sweet pickle relish (sometimes called piccalilli), a dill pickle spear, tomato slices, sport peppers and celery salt. I’m a purist so I do not want lettuce anywhere near my hot dog, nor do I want bland cucumber slices standing in for my tangy dill pickle.
I know many of you go bonkers for the “Depression dogs” that Gene & Judes, Odge’s and Jimmy’s Red Hots serve. If you want fries on your sandwich, for chrissakes just pile on the fries that come with most dogs around town; don’t succumb to a steamed weiner with too much mustard and a measly scattering of onions just because it comes with a mound of fries on top.
So where does one go for the perfect, fully-loaded Chicago char-dog? The Lincoln Park location of Fatso’s Last Stand (1982 N. Clybourn Avenue).
I’ve lived near the original Fatso’s in Ukrainian Village for the past decade and for many years I couldn’t imagine a more satisfying char-dog. Their version is A-rate and I adore the grease-trap aesthetic of this classic Chicago stand.
Yet this past year I’ve started traveling three miles further to the newer and shinier Clybourn Corridor branch because their grill masters are consistently turning out an even better dog. The precision with which they sear the sausages with cross-hatched ends results in a piping-hot, caramelized frank bursting with fatty juices.
The blistered weiner is a perfect foil for the cool garden garnishes, which are always fresh and properly-portioned. I appreciate how carefully the Lincoln Park team nestles them into a steamed S. Rosen’s poppy-seed bun—another non-negotiable Chicago dog feature—so that they don’t plop out the bottom during consumption.
The crowning glory of this flawlessly-executed dog is the heavy-handed application of celery salt; the zippy seasoning really punches-up its flavor profile.
Every menu item at this location features high-quality ingredients and top-notch execution. The skin-on french fries that accompany the char-dogs are fresh from the fryer and perfectly salted.
I challenge you to find a better char-dog with fries in the greater Chicagoland area. Any takers?
As someone who is social media-trend averse, I was skeptical about the limited-edition Chicago-style croissant collaboration between Daisies and The Wieners Circle, but this hot dog/pastry hybrid blew my socks off.
The croissant itself was one of the best I’ve had in Chicago—pillowy, buttery and not at all greasy. The poppy seed coating (a nod to the classic S. Rosen’s bun) was such a textural marvel that it made me wonder why more croissants don’t feature these crunchy orbs.
We were lucky enough to get a batch that had just come out of the oven; I loved the way the barely-warm yellow mustard, onion and relish mingled with the charred meat.
Even though the char-dog didn’t have the extra crispy cut and curled ends characteristic of Fatso’s dog, the grill marks lent an umami quality that played off the tang and sweetness of the other ingredients.
I ended up tucking the pickle spear and tomato garnish inside the croissant for easier eating, and because I couldn’t detect any celery salt (it was apparently added inside before baking), I drizzled some fiery liquid from the sport peppers to add a little punch.
The mixture of pillowy pastry, char-grilled Vienna beef and classic Chicago fixings was bliss-inducing.
I’m sorry to say the croissant dog was only available during the month of January.
I’m ready to start a petition to make it a permanent menu item at Daisies. Will you sign?
All photos by Jared Wheeler
If you enjoyed this post, please forward it to someone who’d enjoy it, and tap the heart icon above or below, which will help me reach more readers. Thanks!
I’ve shared my opinions - now I’m eager to hear about your ideal Chicago dog! Do you think Vienna Beef is meh? Do you prefer a steamed dog? Are you a Gene & Jude’s acolyte?
Hard to argue with this choice – this is a Very Good Dog. Plus, they get bonus points for having some of the best cheese fries in Chicago.
Another well written article. The best thing about it is that I have been able to remove Cancun from my bucket list without having to go to that super-sweaty version of Hell. With the money I'm saving I'm going to my favorite Mexican restaurant in the area. Oh yes......it is air conditioned! Really air conditioned. Think 3000 meters high in the Swiss alps.
An Elderly White Guy in North Carolina who can sweat just looking at the sun from inside my air conditioned house and car.