Memories of a Hot Dog

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It's difficult to remember my first Hot Dog. But, boy do hot dogs bring back great memories.

A 4th of July backyard barbecue with all the aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents?

Was it the beans and franks with brown bread (smothered in butter) that would make any Saturday night special?

Or, could it have possibly been when my father took me and our neighbor, Paul to Fenway Park? We arrived early that day and the Red Sox were playing the White Sox. To be honest I can't even remember the hot dog that day (although I am certain we had one) because all memories were overshadowed when my dad introduced me and Paul to his old teammate, Nellie Fox.

Years passed and hot dogs came and went. Those hot dogs weren't linked to fond memories as when I was young. Those hot dogs were relatively unremarkable.

Many years later, Hot Diggity and I, along with two little Hot Doggers, Top Dawg Dada (that's his hot dog name now. He's Just Plain Sophia's Dada) and Deputy Dawg Dan moved to Connecticut. Just to keep things clear, we were living in Yankee territory, but were always Red Sox fans.

It was the thirteen years living in Fairfield County Connecticut that turned us all on to what a hot dog could be. Whether we were standing in line at Rawleys, enjoying a casual lunch at Swanky Franks, relishing a split faced dog from Super Duper Weenie or catching a quick frank at Duchess on the way to Jennings Beach. All these Hot Dog Joints served franks that kept you coming back for more.

It is these years of "Hot Dog Heaven" that inspires what Yank's Franks will be...and better.

Frankly speaking, we (will) serve the best Hot Dogs!
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