Someone Wrote a Hot Dog Book

And It Was Comedian, Writer and Podcaster Jamie Loftus, Not Me.

Jamie Loftus and friend.

A few years ago, when I started documenting my visits to New Jersey hot dog stands on Instagram, an editor of mine wrote to me and joked, “When is the hot dog book coming out?”

I laughed and wrote back, “Never!” I was serious. I was just having fun on the hot dog trail and didn’t want to turn it into work.

Then, a year later, I reconsidered and thought, “Well, why not?” I had five cocktail books under my belt, with a sixth coming out soon and a seventh under contract. Tackling another topic would be a nice change of pace and get me out of my pigeon hole. Moreover, there hadn’t been a serious book on the subject in many years. So, after I turned in the manuscript for The Encyclopedia of Cocktails (coming out in October), I wrote a hot dog book proposal and asked my agent to send it to my publisher.

I got an answer in 24 hours. And not the kind I had hoped for. Not everyone was as excited as I was about the prospect about a full-length study of the most American of foods, I guess.

I’d been mulling over reworking the proposal and pitching it to other publishers when a box came through the mail, a gift from our friend Helen. It was a book. I almost dropped it when I read the title: Raw Dog: The Naked Truth About Hot Dogs. The cover was ketchup red and the title mustard yellow.

I guess someone in the publishing world thought a hot dog book was a good idea.

Raw Dog is written by the 29-year-old multi-hyphenate Jamie Loftus, who has worked as an actor, comic, writer and podcaster. The book is framed by a road trip that takes Loftus—who can’t drive—on a months-long journey of hot dog discovery, hitting hundreds of frankfurter shacks from New Mexico to her native Massachusetts, all during the very Covid-y summer of 2021. Along for the ride are her boyfriend at the time (who can drive), and her cat and dog. It’s part travelogue, part culinary history, part memoir and part political critique.

And, yes, hot dogs are political in Loftus’ view. She explains that it was Upton Sinclair’s 1906 expose-in-novel-form, The Jungle, that revealed to the world the evils of the American meat-packing industry and dragged into the spotlight the unsavory ways in which America’s favorite meat treat was manufactured. (Sinclair had hoped the book would improve labor conditions. Instead it changed food safety regulations. It led to the passage of the Meat Inspection Act and the Pure Food and Drug Act.) The hot dog came into its own during The Depression, when it was one of the few meals most Americans could afford. Hot dog stands were also a common way for immigrants could get a leg up in American society, when many doors were not open to them. And, more recently, the Covid pandemic engendered multiple scandals in the meat industry, with big companies like Tyson and Swift pulling levers in Washington in order to stay in operation. Processing plants flouted safety measures and risked the health and very lives of their workers.

Loftus digs into all of this with obvious zeal and a Gonzo prose style. She also spends a good deal of ink—43 of the 290 pages—on the biggest day of the Hot Dog Calendar, the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest, laying out its not-entirely-attractive history, which has been plagued by accusations of racism, sexism and other evils. (That said, she nonetheless developed a pretty serious crush on Joey Chestnut.)

Her pursuit of what she called Hot Dog Summer was not without personal cost. By the end of the trip, she had lost her home in Los Angeles, her boyfriend (he didn’t like mustard, so maybe that was just as well) and almost her father, who underwent surgery during that time. Her innards suffered as well, as one might expect of a person who was sometimes hitting five hot dog stands a day. (Loftus is not shy about evoking bodily fluids and functions. You are made aware of the level of churn going on in her guts at all times.)

I raced through the book in record time (for me, anyway; slow reader). It’s an entertaining, picaresque, romp that, true to its title, gets into the good, bad and ugly about its subject. Loftus visits nearly all the important hot dog destinations in the country and doesn’t pull any punches when she doesn’t like what’s just gone into her mouth. Icons like Pink’s in Los Angeles and Ben’s Chili Bowl in D.C. take their lumps. (Warning to fans of the Chicago-style hot dog: this book may upset you.)

I particularly liked this passage in a chapter about going to Texas Tavern in Roanoke, Virginia, which neatly captured the current national mania for hot dogs:

Chris is in the process of grilling at least fifteen dogs in spite of the empty dining room—COVID has redirected a lot of their business to pickup—but he’s easy to talk to and says that we’re not the first “hotdoggers” to come through with questions. I resent the implication that I am a hotdogger like the others, but realize what a ridiculous correction it would be as I take out $3.20 to get us in on the signature TT’s chili dog. Sometimes you need to be knocked off your P.F. Chang’s horse and be told the God’s honest truth: you are exactly like the other hotdoggers.

Once I was finished, I felt compelled to talk to Loftus, a person who seems to regard hot dogs with the same avidity as I do and who has actually achieved my for-now-deferred dream of writing a book about the subject. Our conversation is below.

The cover of Raw Dog.

When did your interest in hot dogs begin? It’s obviously been going on for quite some time.

Jamie Loftus: I’ve always really loved them. They’ve been my favorite food since I was a kid. I grew up on the East Coast, so we did the whole boiled-hot-dogs thing when my dad was in charge of dinner. When I was older and working and looking for very specific subjects to get immersed in, it was always at the top of my list. It’s not a thing that there is really a lot written about aside from ranking them. I know you know this very well. I was surprised how little there was out there. And so I started thinking about how I would approach the topic if I could.

You’re absolutely right. For such an American icon, there is surprisingly little written about hot dogs. There have only been a few books and not anything for a while until yours came out. How did the book deal come about?

JL: I’m still really surprised that they allowed it. I think it was mainly due to lack of information. At that point, I’d released two deep-dive podcasts and they’d both done really well. I turned them around pretty quickly. So when the offer to pitch a book came up, I was looking into something that would work better in book format than podcast format. I was sort of ticked off that adding any sort of travel component would make it easier to sell the book, because there had not been travel books written in the previous year. That added that component to the book as well, which I think helped.

How many hot dog places did you visit during what you called the “Hot Dog Summer” of 2021?

JL: I think 200. Well, that’s 200 total in the year-plus I was working on the book. During the actual summer, it was probably 100, maybe 125. And I think I discuss maybe 80 of them.

How many of those places were you visiting for the first time?

JL: Oh, most of them. Outside of places where I had previously lived, most of them were new to me.

You write a lot about your relationship to your family and with your boyfriend, and all the mishaps that happened on the road. Did you always plan for the book to contain as much personal history as it did?

JL: Not really. I usually weave a little personal stuff into my work, but it’s just because it ended up being a personally eventful summer, mostly for the worse. And part of the book pitch was following along on this road trip. It felt like I had to be honest about what it felt like to be on that trip.

Throughout the book, you tie the history and rise of the hot dog to the political history of America, both past and present. Do you think of the hot dog as an inherently political food?

JL: Definitely. Maybe not voluntarily, but the way it’s marketed is extremely political. The way it’s produced is a political issue. The book felt like an opportunity to talk about stuff that I really care about. And also, I realize it’s kind of a hard pitch to talk about. So, yeah, I kind of wanted to trick people into reading about labor issues.

Speaking of the political, what do you think of the current trend of referring to hot dogs as glizzys, which is a reference to a type of gun?

JL: A reference to what?

It’s slang for Glock handgun. The extended magazine of that pistol is about the length of a hot dog. That’s why they call them that.

JL: [Laughs] I kinda think that’s awesome.

You take some controversial stands on hot dogs on the book. Perhaps the hottest take is you don’t think Chicago-style hot dogs are good. Have you softened that stance at all since publication?

JL: Uh, no. I am right about that. But a lot of people took my not liking the Chicago-style hot dog to me saying there are no good hot dogs in Chicago. Which definitely is not true. And just because the Chicago-style hot dog is not for me, that doesn’t mean I have any particular issue with people who do like Chicago-style hot dogs. Which fans of the Chicago hot dog can’t say, because they hate ketchup fans. So, I have an issue with them for that reason specifically. Redhot Ranch is currently my favorite Chicago hot dog. I really like going there. I recently had my first hot dog at Gene & Jude’s. That was amazing.

I was actually going to ask you about Gene & Jude’s. I’m glad you got there. That’s one of my favorites.

JL: It’s amazing. It’s just slightly hard to get to. But I’m glad I did it. It was delicious.

It’s very hard to get to. You also mentioned the ketchup thing, which is a real third rail in the hot dog world. Hot dog fans are really weird about putting ketchup on hot dogs.

I started writing about hot dogs five years ago and, at the time, it seemed like no one was doing it. That’s changed. There are a lot more articles about hot dogs and renewed interest. Have you noticed that?

JL: Yeah. I guess that was, to a certain extent, because I was suddenly looking for articles about hot dogs. I’d be curious to hear what you attribute that to. I sort of felt like it had to do with people searching for comfort food during lockdown.

I agree with you. That’s what I think. The equivalent in the cocktail world was how all the young people suddenly started drinking Martinis. I think people started looking to the past for things that were comforting and hot dogs fit the bill.

If you hadn’t researched and written the book during the thick of the Covid-19 pandemic—a time of great political turmoil—would you have written a very different hot dog book?

JL: Definitely a different kind of hot dog book. The period of time I was traveling in—I didn’t know this when I started—but I ended up with a more inherently political book than I was planning on. A lot of the themes in there are stuff I would have worked in if it made sense. The big thing that I wanted to do, that I hadn’t seen done, was to mix in the celebration of hot dogs with the less savory parts of how they’re made. Because I hadn’t seen those two things done in one space. You could find it well written about, but never together. With the road trip aspect, everyone was acting so weird that summer. They couldn’t remember how to be in public and be together. I don’t think I could have done it the same way even a year later.

Have you heard from any of the hot dog stands you wrote about since the book came out?

JL: Yes. Two in particular. I was really excited to hear from Superdawg. Superdawg catered my book event in Chicago last month. They’re just the best and still family owned. And a place I really loved in Oregon, Kim Jong Grillin, reached out recently and said people had been coming to see them because of the book.

You end the book by saying that Rutt’s Hut in New Jersey is the best hot dog in the country. Do you still stand by that?

JL: I do. I absolutely do.

You’re not alone. A lot of people love that hot dog.

JL: I know. I was bummed out that I agreed with them. It was the best one.

You talk about trying to tour a facility where they make hot dogs, but being turned down, always for “safety” reasons. Do you think you’ll ever get to tour a hot dog plant?

JL: I don’t know in what timeline, but I still have a real interest in it. I think it’s still pretty underdiscussed.

I want to ask you about certain favorite places of mine that weren’t mentioned in the book and see if you’ve been. We’ve already talked about Gene & Jude’s. I know you’re a Massuchusetts person. Have you ever been to George’s Coney Island in Worcester?

JL: I have, I have. I wish my home state had a better showing in terms of hot dogs. George’s is pretty good.

There’s a little place called Flo’s just over the border in Maine.

JL: I’m going there this week! It’s the one place that I really wanted to get to in New England, but I couldn’t get there because I don’t drive. That’s truly my final stand.

Odd and Ends…

Tales of the Cocktail, the annual booze conference held in New Orleans, kicks off today. The Spirited Awards ceremony will take place on Thursday at 6 p.m. I will be at the awards show. If you see me, come over and say hi! And if you can prove you are an annual subscriber to The Mix, I will buy you a drink… Tropical Standard, the new cocktail by bartender Garret Richard, will be hosting a cocktail party at Palm & Pine at 308 Rampart Street in New Orleans on Thursday at 4 p.m…. I did some digging into the backstories behind some of the bottom-shelf liquor brands we all know, such as Llord’s and Arrow, and wrote about what I found out for Vinepair… The owners of Valerie and Madame George, the swanky Theater District cocktail bars on West 45th Street, are expanding again. They will open a mezcal and rum bar called Lolita next door. Opening is scheduled for this fall… Theater Camp, the comic mockumentary about a struggling upstate New York summer camp for budding thespians, written and directed by Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman, is recommended. Among the cast members is Vivienne Sachs, the young daughter of noted booze writer Tony Sachs… I have located my future self. 84-year-old Nat Read has spent the last few decades riding every single mile of track on Amtrak… Clover Club, the Brooklyn cocktail bar, has returned to physical paper menus after years of QR codes… Lalia’s Brooklyn Apizza, a new pizzeria serving New Haven style pies, has opened in Brooklyn at 990 Metropolitan Avenue. It is an extension of the Grimm Brewery… Anais, the new natural wine bar in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, will soon be open during the day… The Danish bakery Ole & Steen will be opening in Manhattan at 87th and Lexington Avenue. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to make Kringles.