Michael Lippman

Summer's here, which means ... hot dogs. 

While the burger scene in L.A. is thriving, with great L.A. chefs re-imagining the burger, respecting the burger, loving the burger – and you can’t find a single person who doesn’t have an “amazing burger” to recommend to you – people still don’t take the hot dog seriously.  (Adding insult to injury, the Weiner Factory in Sherman Oaks, a bastion of quality for 30 years, lost their lease on 1/1/08 and will be replaced by a Pinkberry.)  Actually, maybe it's better this way.  It’s just a matter of time before the hot dog becomes an “in” food – deconstructed and reconstructed up the whazoo, but it’s not happened yet, and the lowly dog can continue to fly under the radar.  And just ‘cause dogs aren’t hip and happenin’, doesn’t mean there aren’t some fantastic dogs in L.A.  There are.  (And there's even the rumblings of reinvention.)

1. Let's Be Frank

Sue Miller and her partner Larry have the best dog in L.A. right now.  A grass fed dog – yup, you heard it hear first (or fifteenth, if you read anything about food besides this blog). The cows are 100 percent grass-fed, which means not “grass-finished”, which means not grain-fed in over-crowded feed lots and then let out to chew a few blades of grass right before they’re slaughtered.  Sue’s got a hot dog cart, all red and white, in Culver City right outside the Helms Bakery complex.  Yes, it’s a little bizarre.  And don’t expect the dogs to taste exactly like other dogs you’ve known and loved.  They’re a little surprising at first, and it took 2 or 3 to adjust my taste buds to the grass-fed-ness of them.  They taste clean, light, juicy and have a unique flavor.  Sue’s dogs are steamed then grilled a little bit at the end and served with grilled onions. They snap a little bit when you bite into them and burst with clean flavor.   Talk to Sue, she loves to talk, and she’s inspiring and not preachy on the subject of grass-fed beef.  She insists that each dog is different, or at least each “batch” is different, because each cow is different.  As the animals are roaming and eating from different patches of land, any given cow is an expression of a specific journey across a specific stretch of land eating specific grass.  If it is true that you can taste the love in food, these dogs are about as tasty as it gets. 
2.    Carney’s . 

Killer hot dog stand hot dog.   Steamed to perfection, providing that great SNAP – and the flavory juiciness released by the SNAP.  Good chili.  The whole package is in many ways “best in show”.  Thick cut fresh tomato on top, chopped raw onions, mustard.  The guy serving me says, “The tomato makes it”.   And what’s more fun than sitting in an actual train to eat your dog? – Yes, it’s a hot dog stand inside a train car.  I suppose it’s the dining car.   My friend Brian and I have sat here many a night after our respective kids have “gone down”.  Sometimes we stay for 7 minutes, long enough to order and chow and get out.  Sometimes we stay for hours, scarfing down a second, then a third dog, with long stretches of conversation between them.  If I had been 8 years old, growing up in LA, (which I never was) this would have been my favorite food, period.  However, this brings up the raging L.A. hot dog question: is Carney’s better than Pink’s? 

3.    Pink’s . 

So ... my wife and I go to Gurmukh's Kundalini yoga class at Golden Bridge in Hollywood.  Gurmukh is one of the greatest teachers of any subject I have ever known in the world.  She can inspire you to do the craziest things, like flap your arms for 11 minutes straight.  The first minute you’re thinking, this is a breeze.  By the sixth minute, you want to kill someone.  But Gurmukh talks you through it, describing the incredible benefits for your kidneys, your lungs, your heart, your digestion, etc.  After class, it is wise to eat at the vegetarian café right here at Golden Bridge.  But my wife says, “let’s go to Pink’s”.  Pink’s is the most famous hot dog stand in the country.  It began as a little cart in 1939, selling hot dogs for 10 cents.  Now there are four dining spaces, outdoor and indoor, with signed headshots of every single famous actor in Hollywood up on the walls -- with a note on each from the star saying something like “Pink’s is the best.”  We stand on a long line that (always) moves surprisingly slowly.  On line with us are tourists with cameras, hipsters who’ve just rolled out of bed, two guys talking incessantly about their improv comedy class, a guy I recognize from an old job who recognizes me too but we make a tacit agreement to completely and totally ignore each other.  Finally, we order 4 chili dogs.  There’s a patio outside, but I like to sit inside and stare at the headshots.  I feel part of something.  The dog is quintessential.  It snaps like a good dog should.  It comforts.  You remember, “ah yes, this is the Pink’s dog, this is why Pink’s is Pink’s.”   Some foodies have a hobby of dissing Pink's -- I don't get that at all.  When you get a good chili dog here, it’s the perfect food unit.  The bun, the chili, the dog, all one.  I mean no disparagement when I say, it’s like a perfect Big Mac -- more than the sum of its parts.  

4.    Portillo’s . 

Chicago import, the real deal.  About 30 locations in Chicago. Only one outside of Chicago – where?  Buena Park, CA!  It’s a pretty long drive to Buena Park.  (Unless you live in Buena Park.)  (Or, close to Buena Park.)  Buena Park feels weird.  Not quite urban, not quite suburban.  It’s the home of Knott’s Berry Farm, so it feels like the kind of town that builds up around large amusement parks.  It doesn’t quite feel real.  Neither does Portillo’s.   First of all, it’s huge, it must be 5000 square feet, the kind of place you build where real estate doesn’t cost  anything.  The vibe is like everyone’s white and late twenties and staying at a nearby hotel for some corporate convention and out drinking beer and eating dogs and beef sandwiches and talking about their latest guitar hero adventures.  To some, Pink’s is exotic.  To me, this is exotic.  I never was part of this world.  I love seeing these creatures.  And, surprise, the dog is awesome.  Not just good, great.  The color’s kind of pale, the flavor is just right – how it’s spiced, how it’s steamed -- it tastes how a hot dog should taste.  Oh, and this is a Chicago style dog.  Very specific dog.  Has on it two or three sport peppers, a single pickle wedge the size of the dog itself, fresh tomatoes, and raw onions.  It’s kind of an odd salad on a  dog.  For the non-Chicago native, it’s bizarre but wonderful.  (Don’t tell, but this dog was so good, I removed the pickle.)  P.S. I drove all the way to Buena Park, so I had to try the Italian beef sandwich – out of this world.  The way the bun sops up the juices from the beef and gets all soggy is just awesome.  The soggiest, juiciest parts are the edges, so I eat in a circle around the edges, thinking “I’ll just eat the edges”, but then new soggy edges appear, and I just kept eating till there’s only a tiny nub of center left – which I pop into my mouth.  

5.  Ketchup .   The critique goes:  hip, young, West Hollywood scene, all style, no substance.  But they’ve got a Kobe beef hot dog appetizer, so I’m checking it out.  I walk in and three beautiful, young, cooler-than-me, girls are standing behind a long reception desk – pointing patrons upstairs to the restaurant – “you can take the stairs or the elevator”.  But I lean on the reception desk and say, “So … Ketchup.”  They all stare at me blankly, the way cool popular girls have of staring blankly.  Then I say, “So what’s the, uh, situation with Ketchup?”  Me, I love when someone lobs a soft ball question like that.  For these girls, it’s way too vague.  It opens up way too many possibilities.  It’s like I’m willing them to hate me.  And it’s working.  Upstairs, I sit at the bar.  The place is jamming with red hues and happy people and ketchup-y design. 

The whole restaurant and lounge is meant to be like one big “Warhol”.  The waitresses are just like the girls downstairs.  I try to talk to the bartender about the wine list.  Not happening – she has no idea.  I try to engage anyone about the food.  No go – no knowledge, no care.  They are here to be cool and pretty and serve cool and pretty people.  I order the Kobe dogs with Kobe chili.  “How cool” I say, “kobe dogs”.  Why am I continuing to speak?  The dogs arrive.  Two little dogs in two little buns with a little spoonful of chili on each, served on a square mod white plate.  Great presentation – making me even more positive they’re going to suck.  But … they’re outstanding.  Delicious.  They put most L.A. dogs to shame.  They actually taste like quality.  You don’t sit there thinking, what’s in this dog?   You imagine it’s the lesser, but still tasty, parts of a Wagyu cow.  If hot dogs are going to be reinvented in L.A., the kobe appetizer seems like the perfect place to start. 

6.    Marty’s Hamburger Stand.  A hamburger and hot dog stand by the fire station on Pico in West L.A.  Grilled dogs as opposed to steamed.   For some people, steamed is the only way, because a steamed dog SNAPS, releasing juices and flavor when it’s bitten into.  On a good day, Pink’s and Carney’s exemplify this steamed snap.  But others swear by a grilled dog.  For me, growing up on grilled kosher dogs at my parents’ country club, then moving to L.A. and discovering Pink’s, I can go either way.   A grilled dog doesn’t have the snap, but it has the grill on it, and a well-used grill, along with a quality dog, can be incredibly satisfying.  Like at Marty's.  Delicious.  Good chili.  Solid dog.  And it's so great to eat a dog by the side of Pico Boulevard.  This is how a dog should be eaten.  By the way, this place is “the home of the combo”.  The combo is:  a hot dog and a hamburger served together in a single bun.  I will not try the combo. 

7.    The Stand .

This has to be the most user-friendly, family-friendly, place to eat dogs in L.A. right now.  The Stand doesn’t take a position on what a dog should be, it gives you every dog option under the sun.  Steamed dogs, grilled dogs, kosher dogs, Polish sausages, fat spicy dogs.  Also, there’s a full menu of regional preparations – the New York street dog (with mustard and spicy onions), the Chicago dog (pickle, sport peppers, tomato, onion, mustard).  Also, you can create your own version, using any of their countless toppings.  And you can choose to have your dog grilled or steamed.  And everything is good. 

The place is always buzzing with babies and toddlers.  And a jazz band plays Thursday and Sunday  evenings during the warmer months in their great outdoor courtyard.  It’s one of the better outdoor dining hangs to be found, especially if you have little ones.  The kids dance and eat baked beans and dogs peeled of their casings by concerned moms.  My personal favorite: the Southern Slaw Dog:  chili, cole slaw and mustard on a steamed kosher dog.  (N.B. There's a new Stand in Westwood, and apparently one is opening soon in Woodland Hills.)

8.    Larry’s Chili Dog. 

A Burbank institution.  A quality-conscious hot dog stand, serving delicious grilled chili dogs.  Great place to have a quick, casual lunch – or to hang at one of the outdoor tables for hours with your dad, having the longest, deepest conversation you’ve ever had with him.  Something about this place inspires eating fast, then lingering long.  The service is helpful, the teenager behind the counter takes pride in his job and in the place.  The whole thing gives me a warm feeling towards Burbank in general. 

9.    City Bakery . 

You gotta love City Bakery.  New York import.  Big, almost warehouse-like space at the Brentwood Country Mart.  Lots of pretty Brentwood moms.  Great, fresh, expensive buffet of fresh food charged by the pound.  (Pick light items – I try to eat a bucketful of kale every few days.)  And lots of outdoor picnic tables to eat at.  Or, you can sit inside at one of seven stools at a counter by the kitchen, next to all the cookies, and order a Niman Ranch hot dog (5 bucks) off the “diner” menu.  It’s almost the Platonic ideal of a hot dog:  a delicious, homemade City Bakery bun with a no-nitrate Niman Ranch dog.   A yummy snack.  A meal?  Well, add a side of onion rings (also 5 bucks) and that’s a ten dollar dog and rings.  Very, very civilized.  
10.    Surfas Café .  Sometimes they have the “Kobe Haute Dog”.  Not when I last visited.  Instead, their “hot dog” was a venison sausage presented in some French bread.  I know it’s kind of cheating, because at least according to Sue Miller (see “Let’s Be Frank”), sausage is infinitely easier to make than hot dogs. 

But this sandwich is so unbelievably delicious, I had to throw it in.  And the mustard ... so good.  

Honorable Mention:

Taste of Chicago:  Really good Chicago dog at a silly place dedicated to all things Chicago.  Owned by Joe Montegna’s wife.  Chicago pizza, too.  Not on the same level as Portillo's, but much closer than Buena Park (unless you live in Buena Park)

Johnny’s pastrami:  Good large grilled dog.  In a place that has the history, the waitresses, the real deal.  Cool place to eat a dog if you’re not in the mood for the pastrami.

Jeff’s Gourmet:  Kosher dogs and sausages on Pico.  Fun place, lots of observant Jews who eat kosher as a way of life.  The dog is fine, but the sausages are really good, especially the chorizo, nice and spicy and kosher.

Marty D's:  Retro ice cream parlor/hot dog stand vibe in Beverly Hills.  Tasty grilled dog.  Might be in the running if it didn't set you back 8 bucks(!)

Costco:  Decent kosher dog.