Reviewing The Beer-Braised Hot Dog with Hard Cider-Braised Onions and Grain Mustard on a Pretzel Roll at Citizens Bank Park
Like Jim Nantz giving an unsuspecting college kid his fucking tie, this is a personal tradition you didn’t know existed and which probably weirds you out– my annual CBP hot dog review.
As you know, I am a big fan – HUGE FAN – of the South Philly Dog. The sandwich(?), which debuted in 2010, was brought back last year after an unnecessary hiatus. The only positive to come from its respite was a revamping in presentation and the addition of those sweet, sweet red peppers. It remains the most underrated ballpark eat (though I’ve yet to try the Federal Donuts chicken sandwich) and may be second to only the New England Backyard Dog, which scored a 9.5 out of 10 last year but I’m not sure is still available this year.
But this post is all about the new beer-braised hot dog with hard cider-braised onions and grain mustard on a pretzel roll. I’m not sure it has an actual name, so we’ll just call it “BBHDWHCBOAGMOAPR” for short. It resides along with the SPD at the cleverly-named Frank & Stein stand, which, for the second year in a row, threw me for a loop with its name, and it wasn’t until this morning (I had the dog on Wednesday night) that I realized it was not only just a play on German food nomenclature, but also a fairly obvious Frankenstein reference. I am a genuine idiot.
Anyway, the review.
If I were Jony Ive in a white room describing this thing, I’d say it was “essential,” with each element being obvious, but only after long and thoughtful consideration of its role, or roll.
Beer braised hot dog? Necessary.
Pretzel roll? Need it.
Spicy grain mustard?* But of course.
Hard cider braised onions? LET’S DATE.
Presentation: The hot dog is longer than the bun. I need a hot dog that is longer than the bun. [The absence of this was the only negative mark on the 2010 SPD.] Anything less leaves you with a horrendous bread-to-weiner ratio and is, quite frankly (heh– frankly), uncivilized. Einstein’s (heh– stein‘s) Theory of Relativity states that you are bound to be left with at least two bites full of bread and nothing more if the dog is shorter than the bun. At least, that’s what I think it says. Can’t have it. I need my hot dog to resemble the circumsized penis of a man with an overactive pituitary gland. Frankenstein penis, Frank & Stein‘s dog is.
*I’m just going to ignore the fact that this type of mustard resembles newborn poop with all those seeds. “Yellow and seedy,” the doctor said it should be. Thanks, doc.
Flavor: Here’s where the BBHDWHCBOAGMOAPR does its best work, albeit with a few caveats. Again, everything about this is essential, and there’s really nothing fancy. A good German dog should have a pretzel roll, college educated mustard, and onions. The beer and cider braises are improvisations, but they’re well within acceptable limits. It tastes exactly how you’d expect it to taste– delicious. It’s a better execution of a German-style dog than anything I’ve ever had at Xfinity Live!’s bastardized version of a “German beer hall,” which more closely resembles hell than anything you will find in Germany. [Note: It’s been a few years since I’ve been to the Victory Beer Hall, so perhaps things have changed. I doubt it.] The dog itself was crazy moist. I mean, look at these juices:
Closer:
Sex organ close:
Whoever cooked that should get a medal. It was crunchy on the outside and wet on the inside. Perfection.
The mustard, onions and bread all did their job to complement the meat itself, which was undeniably the star of this show. My only critique is that I could’ve used a little more savory to go with the sweetness of the beer and cider braising. I always err on the side of salt rather than sugar, savory rather than sweet. That’s me. Your preferences may differ. But I was left yearning for just a touch more saltiness when I put this damp monstrosity in my mouth. Honestly, I think this could’ve been accomplished by using a pretzel roll with just a bit more salt. Any pretzel roll should always be just slightly over-salted, because much of it will fall off in the handling of the sandwich.
Handling and structure: Everything here was well-proportioned and edible. The structural integrity of the pretzel roll was fine. It’s typically a more durable roll than, say, a potato roll, so you can throw all these juices at it and it will just absorb them like it was born to do. However – and I’m not exactly sure how to combat this – the, um, weiner kept slipping out. I think it was due to its long and narrow shape combined with the thickness of the roll and the lubricious nature of its environment. I mean, it wasn’t a deal-breaker – you just slide it right back in – but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t start to get annoying and kill the mood just a bit. Still, I enjoyed every second of it. All 22 of them. Score: 8 out of 10.
https://youtu.be/td04fMCRyk0
