EATFREAK

FAB HOT DOGS review / LA STREET DOG RANT

I recently had a fight with an asshole. Not the kind of fight where you beat each other up and bleed and stuff – the kind of fight where you swear a lot and yell about hot dogs. Said asshole was originally from New Jersey, now living in Los Angeles. We were at a bar drinking after seeing some friends play when he spoke up and said “You know what the problem with Los Angeles is?” For the record – never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever make the mind bogglingly stupid mistake of starting out a conversation like this with me. My only response was to clear my throat and brace for impact. He continued “There’s not a single fucking Hot Dog in this town worth a good goddamn”. As I explained before, I did not hit him in the mouth (the appropriate response). I did however murder his entire immediate family in my head. He went on to proclaim that Los Angeles not only had no good Hot Dogs to offer, but no history of hot dogs to offer – no relationship with this great american street food. At this point I took a moment to remind myself there’s no need to be angry at the weak of mind – they don’t know any better. By the time he’d ended his initial tirade He had gone so far as to announce that you couldn’t find a decent hot dog outside the tristate area, at which point I interjected “If you’re finished embarrassing yourself, I’ve got good news. You have no idea what your talking about, and Los Angeles has a fantastic history, generous range of offerings, and a very unique hot-dogial identity, cock sucker” …

None of this actually happened. I think I said something like “Nu-Uh, You’re Stupid”, and ran away crying. Before doing so though – I did boldly defend the honor of Los Angeles’ own beloved Street Dog. He made the horrible horrible mistake of insulting said exquisite culinary past time. I think that’s when I called him a stupidhead … I don’t remember the details … whatever

Here’s the point folks. As I’ve explained before, I care very passionately about two separate subjects AND equally passionate about where those two subjects collide. One being the Beautiful City of Los Angeles – The other being The Incredible American Hot Dog. Where those two things collide is on the side of the street at 2 in the morning outside a bar, or out in front of the parking violations bureau in 100 degree weather, or at the gates of your local flea market at 9AM. I am of course talking about the LA Street Dog. Grilled on a cheap ass cart right in front of you by a 200 year old Bad Ass Mexican Man, or a 700 year old Beautiful Mexican Grandmother, wrapped in bacon, smothered in a mixture of grilled onions and peppers, topped with pickled jalapenos, and drowned in mustard, mayo, and maybe ketchup (probably not).

I’ll save going into extreme detail concerning my undying love for this dish until a further post, but before I move on to the actual body of this post, let me impart this one message to you, dear reader. The next time you are present as any individual attempts to disrespect the deep relationship between Hot Dogs and The City of Los Angeles, I implore you – Kick Their Fucking Teeth In.

NOW – let’s get down to business. I am making a point of checking out Hot Dog joints around Los Angeles and judging their integrity. Fab Hot Dogs has been making some serious waves lately, and it was high time I made the trek out to Reseda to see for myself just what the hell was going on.

I arrived at the their Reseda strip mall location exactly 6 minutes after opening to find the place completely packed to death. I took the very last seat available. This was a week day mind you. I had already checked out their menu selections on their website (which I recommend as it is not a light read) so I already knew exactly what I wanted when I arrived. The reputed superstar of the menu is “The Ripper”. The Ripper is a Jersey Style, All Natural (even the casing), All Beef Hot Dog that is fried in Vegetable Oil. I took the “purist/try to-pretend-I-have-some-sort-of-plan-for-reviewing-this-stuff” approach and ordered one ripper with Ketchup and Mustard. But I didn’t stop there, did I?
They have another rather unique item on the menu which caught my eye on their website. none other than “The LA Street Dog”. “Someone’s got some balls”, I said to myself. In addition to their famed Ripper I order one LA Street Dog with everything. Here’s how it all went down.

The Ripper: Hell yeah, man. The veg. oil situation made for a really cool flavorful crispy dog. Nothing flashy or fancy – it’s a freaking hot dog. But it’s a really really good hot dog. It’d be stupid to go into extreme detail over such a simple offering, so I won’t. but I will say that I know what all the fuss is about. It’s a great dog. Leagues and leagues above what you’re gonna end up spitting out over at Pinks or Carney’s.

The LA Street Dog: Nope. Nu-uh. Absolutely not. No No No. I can’t get too angry about it because I seriously appreciate that they had enough respect to put it on the menu whereas most Hot Dog freaks turn their nose up at the idea. But seriously – this is not an LA Street Dog at all. sure, it had all the trimmings, all the right ingredients, it was even made within the right county lines. But no. ‘fraid not. It’s too clean, too perfect, too much like a hot dog from any other city in any other state. It’s like ordering a hot dog off the streets of New York (which I freaking love as well by the way) and wrapping it in Bacon and throwing onions, peppers, jalapenos, and stuff on it. No. When I want a Street Dog I want it burnt, dripping with unidentifiable stuff, blackened and charred in sections, with chunks of Herpes from the cook falling off onto the sidewalk when you take a bite. When I eat a Street Dog I want to regret it almost immediately. Mind you – what I ate at Fab Hot Dogs was tasty enough, I suppose. Like I said it was like throwing some cool stuff onto a better-that-normal hotdog – but you cannot call it an LA Street Dog, I’m afraid.

Overall rating of Fab Hot Dogs? Super super high. Love the place. Really dig it. The drive to Reseda aint a short one – and I’m not likely to make the trek again for a long time just to enjoy their dog. But I promise that every single time I’m ever in that area again, I will absolutely stop in and eat as many Kick Ass Hot Dogs as I can in one sitting. And you should too. Just don’t order the Street Dog. Don’t do it. In order to go to Fab Hot Dogs you have to be in the Los Angeles area. If you’re in the Los Angeles area, you’ve probably got a few parking tickets in your glove box. So wheel your ass over to the violations bureau and wait four hours in line while shoving hot grilled drippy amazingness into your face. Only make sure you go to one that has a restroom – half way through that line, the Turista is gonna hit pretty hard.

Sorry for the long ass post. Its been a while – and this is a subject matter that I get all excited about.

ok bye.

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