There’s something happening here with hot dogs. Seemingly overnight, hot dogs meant for a sit-down meal (not, say, a paper plate overwhelmed with Fritos) are showing up on menus around the city.
Dallas’ newest trend has nothing to do with the dirty water dogs — those steamy franks sloshing around in a deprivation tank of their own juices that you find in New York City — or the kind you’d find at the now shuttered Wild About Harry’s (RIP) with shredded cheese and chili.
And while Dallas has lost a lot of no-fuss dog joints over the years, suddenly we’re home to a score of evening wear dogs, encased meat dressed to the nines.
In the lobby of the Highland Dallas, the hotel at the corner of Mockingbird and Central, Knife is serving a 44 Farms frank, glowing from the grill, for $9. For $4 extra, they’ll spoon on some Akaushi beef chili. On SMU Boulevard, you’ll find a Chicago-style dog for $11 at Julian Barsotti’s new bar Goodbye Horses.
“I’m so curious if it’ll get any traction,” Barsotti says about the restaurant’s Chicago dog. It features a flat-grilled Vienna Beef frank, topped with straight-from-the-jar Marconi sport peppers, celery salt and mustard. No tomato. “We just did it because we like it.”
If you’d prefer something less ballpark, something less old-fashioned, keep an eye on Dallas chef Misti Norris’ roving pop-up concept, Rainbow Cat. A recent appearance at Cosmo’s featured the Unicorn Dog, made with a homemade sausage and topped with pickled summer peppers, slashes of a mushroom-spiked mayo, and sticky rice fashioned into a bun. Greenville Avenue’s Rye restaurant features a love letter to an Icelandic-style hot dog. It’s local Wagyu-style beef alongside sweet mustard, rémoulade, onion and fried shallots on rugbrød (a Danish rye bread) for $7.
This all comes to Dallas diners after a string of hot dog joints rose and fell over the past two decades. Luscher’s Red Hots was a Deep Ellum gem during its short life that ended in 2016. Wild About Harry’s closed in 2021 after 25 years of business. Lakewood once had a spot called Jerry’s Wood-Fired Dogs just off the busy Gaston and Abrams intersection, and Singleton Boulevard once housed a Hofmann Hots.
So, there are questions. Did we forever lose the traditional hot dog joint to the glamour of a sit-down hot dog on a larger upscale bar menu?
Even iconic Chicago company Portillo’s, which is expanding into D-FW this fall, is touting its Italian beef sandwiches over its famous hot dogs. Portillo’s CEO Michael Osanloo, who plans to open 18 to 20 restaurants in Dallas-Fort Worth in the next five years, told reporter Sarah Blaskovich that his restaurant is “not a hot dog place.” He stressed this part: “It is an Italian beef place. If people are coming to Portillo’s and they’re eating one thing, I’d say get a beef sandwich.” (But for those who want a hot dog, there are seven different styles on the menu.)
And there are still antidotes to the sit-down dog to be found around town. Try New York Sub’s franks, 100% beef snappers from Fort Worth that won’t cost you more than $10 (even with a fresh grape soda).
“By the way, Chicago dogs don’t have chili on them,” says Chicago native and New York Sub owner Andrew Kelley. His $6 Chicago dog sports all the classic fixings, including the Slimer-green relish, if that’s your thing. It’s stupendous, snapping with rivulets of beefy juices. “I can’t sell you a $17 martini, but you can get a $2 Delaware punch.”
A Texas classic lives at Angry Dog, which splits and blisters its dog on the griddle, then covers it with a blanket of chili and shredded cheddar. It’s the only dog for which it is acceptable to use a knife and fork. Actually, check that: Burger House has been serving fork and knife chili dogs — the plastic kind in the cardboard carton — for pocket change for seven decades.
And in the wonderful darkness, hidden away from shame and light, Mike’s Gemini Twin Lounge serves hot dogs “rolled to order.” That means they’re right there on the bar, endlessly twirling and searing at the same time, and they’re less than $6. Mike’s Gemini uses Texas Chili Co. franks (all beef and brisket) and offers all the store-bought condiments a weary soul desires.
