Of all the foods that necessitate heated arguments, perhaps none stokes the fire in the hearts of men quite like hot dogs. Great minds have been reduced to rubble by the philosophical quandary of whether they are sandwiches, despite the fact they’re blatantly not. (They are hot dogs. Respect their individuality.) Friendships have been fractured over the topic of ketchup; families ideologically divided by an ocean of piping-hot chili.
Regional hot dogs styles are like charismatic cult leaders but with toppings. They’re as cherished as sports teams and public transportation — things that unite people under a shared umbrella, an acknowledgment of our brotherhood and community, and used to let everyone else know exactly how terrible they are in comparison.
But dare I suggest something audacious: Perhaps we can learn to love all the hot dogs? For each and every one is beautiful in its own special way. It is an exercise in folly and hubris to pretend one knows all there is to know about hot dogs. They are a canvas for innovation. To rob a hot dog of its potential is to rob ourselves. (Except if we’re talking about ketchup, which is gross.)
Then again, it’s nice to have something silly to argue about for a little while, isn’t it? Perhaps we need something harmless to help us release the pressure of our many frustrations, and maybe that something is a glistening tube of meat.
**What’s your favorite regional hot dog style, and why? Tell us in the comments.**
What’s on it: Brown mustard; choice of sauerkraut, red onion sauce or both.
Where it’s popular: New York City.
Where to get one: At a street cart on virtually any corner; look for the Sabrett’s umbrella.
New York has a glut of good hot dogs. There are the snappy griddled numbers down at Nathan’s in Coney Island; the extra-plump, all-beef baddies at the city’s nearly extinct kosher-style delis; the reliably cheap “recession dogs” at places that sling them alongside papaya drinks; and many more. But to those born and raised in the city (myself included), the most iconic of all is the “dirty water dog” that can be found on a street corner beneath a blue and yellow umbrella.
“A New York hot dog is a no B.S. kind of hot dog. The guy in the cart doesn’t overdo it with the condiments like a Chicago dog: a little mustard, those tomato onion things, maybe a little sauerkraut if you feel like a hot shot. And that’s all you need. No gimmicks. You can eat it while you’re walking without making a mess of yourself. Try that in Chicago.” — cookbook and pulp noir author Eddie McNamara
What’s on it: Bacon-wrapped hot dog, bolillo-style bun, beans, onions, tomatoes, mayo, crema, salsa.
Where it’s popular: Arizona and the Southwest.
Where to get one: El Güero Canelo (Tucson), BK Tacos (Tucson), El Sabroso Hot Dogs (Phoenix), Los Dogos (Los Angeles).
Originating in the capital of Mexico’s Sonora region, this beast of a hot dog combines Mexican and American culinary traditions, with a bacon-wrapped hot dog buried beneath an ocean of condiments. Initially finding stateside popularity in Arizona, this style now dominates the entire Southwest, along with a strong showing in Southern California.
“I love a Sonoran hot dog, probably because it breaks all the rules elitists impose on other kinds. Ketchup! Not just mayo, but crema too! And melted cheese plus a spicy salsa, while everything is cradled in a closed-end bun soft as a baby’s butt imported from Sonora. It’s an indulgence that doesn’t care what anyone else thinks as only an imported hot dog (and L.A.’s immigrant community) can.” — food writer Esther Tsang
What’s on it: All-beef dog, yellow mustard, chopped raw onions, neon green pickle relish, sliced tomato, pickle spear, pickled sport peppers, celery salt, poppy seed bun.
Where it’s popular: Chicago and the greater Chicagoland area.
A quintessential Chicago-style hot dog starts with an all-beef dog (typically from local manufacturer Vienna Beef), and is “dragged through the garden” with enough toppings for outsiders to deride this dog as “salad on a bun.”
“I’d argue that Chicago’s is the most fascinating of all regional hot dogs. It’s a hypercolored thing of beauty with flavors to match, hitting all of your taste senses: sweet, salty, umami, sour and bitter, thanks to the entire produce department on top. Each bite’s texture is just as varied, which gives it yet another dimension of enjoyment that most other foods can’t boast. Every other type of hot dog looks dull in comparison.” — food writer Dennis Lee
What’s on it: Chili, slaw, onions, optional mustard.
Where it’s popular: The Carolinas, West Virginia and across the South.
Where to get one: J.S. Pulliam Barbecue (Winston-Salem, N.C.); Trolly Stop Hot Dogs (Wrightsville Beach, N.C.); Jack’s Cosmic Dogs (Mount Pleasant, S.C.).
The Carolinas aren’t the only states that lays claim to piling these toppings on a hot dog; West Virginia’s formidable frank is nearly identical, save for slight seasoning differences in the chili and slaw. We love them both equally, but for the purpose of entertainment, we are more than happy to spark a hot dog debate between the regions.
“Okay look: North Carolina is a blue-collar place, and that means people put a lot of stock in a fast, cheap lunch. Our dogs are topped with meaty chili and mayonnaise-y slaw: It’s a complete meal. Protein, carbohydrate and a vegetable. We buy them by the sackful. I would bet no other state has as many classic ‘dog places: Pulliam’s in Winston-Salem, Ward’s in Whiteville, Bill’s in Little Washington, Trolley Stop in Wrightsville Beach. We are a hot-dog respecting people.” — food writer and author Kathleen Purvis
What’s on it: Pork and beef hot dog, ground beef heart chili, mustard, onion, optional cheese.
Where it’s popular: All across Michigan.
You won’t find anything resembling a Coney dog in Coney Island; this style is straight from the Great Lakes State, created by early-20th-century Greek immigrants who wanted to stake their claim to the American Dream with an affordable food concept. Hot dogs may have been introduced in Coney Island, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a Michigander who doesn’t believe they perfected it.
“The Coney is as legendary as the city that birthed it — the soft steamed bun, barely holding it together against the weight of the naturally cased frank smothered in spiced beef chili enriched by the tender meat of the heart topped with a drizzle of neon yellow mustard and crisp diced white onion. It’s American folk — the holy communion of Detroit. There is no substitution for the soulful, satisfying, sometimes messy but always delicious beacon of the Motor City, especially when consumed under the fluorescent glow of the counter at 2 a.m.” — Mabel Grey chef James Rigato
What’s on it: Dense toasted bun; cream cheese; grilled onions.
Where it’s popular: Seattle.
Where to get one: Various street vendors outside T-Mobile Park/Lumen Field, Matt’s Hot Dogs, Monster Dogs.
Seattle’s signature style was created not to elevate the hot dog with toppings, but rather to use the hot dog as a topping. It was invented in 1988 at a street cart specializing in bagels with cream cheese. When customers began requesting meatier toppings, owner Hadley Long went with hot dogs, which were more cart-friendly than bacon or breakfast sausage. The bagels were soon exchanged for a hearty, bialy-inspired bun and became a hit with drunken late-night crowds.
“The best Seattle dogs are large, split or slashed franks cooked over an open flame so their edges get crisp and charred. The buns should be heartier than a standard hot dog bun, charred on the flame, and spread with softened cream cheese as soon as it comes off the griddle so that the cream cheese melts and adds a light, lubricating tang. The Frank gets topped with onions, which are best when they’re started on a fire then set aside to slowly stew and caramelize, melting in with the cream cheese and forming a sort of impromptu French onion dip. My advice? If you find a street vendor with a line and an open flame, you’ll do okay.” — chef and cookbook author J. Kenji López-Alt
Cincinnati Coney (beef and pork hot dog, cinnamon-spiked Cincinnati chili, chopped onion, shredded cheese): This drive-through menu staple is a Coney Dog that’s generously topped with a pile of shredded cheddar cheese for the full Cincinnati-style chili experience.
Pittsburgh Dog (beef hot dog, coleslaw, provolone, french fries): Packing all the components of a full meal into one portable sandwich, this hot dog is a quick, efficient lunch that’s the right blend of practicality and indulgence.
Rhode Island “New York System” Dog (beef, pork and veal hot dog; steamed side-sliced bun; meat sauce; mustard; chopped onion; celery salt): Best served alongside an ice cold glass of coffee milk, these dogs have a serious snap thanks to the natural casing stuffed with three types of seasoned ground meat.
Newark Italian Style Dog (beef hot dog, Italian bread, fried potatoes, sauteed onions and peppers): This hot dog is made with a special roll called “pizza bread.” Found in Northern New Jersey’s Italian bakeries, it’s sturdy enough to contain a mountain of peppers and onions.
Baltimore Bologna Dog (beef hot dog, griddled beef bologna, mustard): Charm City may not have as many Jewish delis as it did a century ago, but this extra-meaty hot dog is still holding strong at those that remain. Some may say two types of beef sausage in a single bun are unnecessary, but those people are fools.
Georgia Scrambled Dog (chopped hot dog, chili, onions, pickles, oyster crackers): This regional dog eschews the bun entirely, serving everything in an oval bowl with a generous smattering of oyster crackers for carbs.
Half Smoke (D.C.) (smoked beef and pork sausage, chili, onions, mustard): Technically, the half smoke is a sausage, not a hot dog, but as this spicy link is a hometown favorite in the nation’s capital, we’ll allow it.
Reporting by Allison Robicelli. Editing by Matt Brooks, Becky Krystal, Olga Massov and Joe Yonan. Copy editing by Allison Cho. Photos by Scott Suchman. Food styling by Lisa Cherkasky. Photo editing by Jennifer Beeson Gregory. Art direction by Marissa Vonesh. Design editing by Christine Ashack. Recipes adapted from Jessica Rudolph, senior editor of Cook’s Country magazine, an America’s Test Kitchen publication; staff writer Aaron Hutcherson; and Martin’s Famous Potato Rolls and Breads.
