Happy Canadog Day!

Canada Day; BBQ and keg party

July 1st marks Canada's birthday, the day when our nations founders' asked Queen Victoria to consider us an independent country. (We didn't actually become legally sovereign until 1982... it was tough going for those first 115 years; the band didn't make it, Karen broke up with us, and we had to move back in England)

It's a day to celebrate our nation's greatness, and there is no better way to enjoy the amazing weather than a keg party.  Prior to arriving, some shopping for consumables had to be done.  Within the meat section of the local IGA, a pal and I were deciding. Spotting the Mennonite Sausage, we both knew just what kind of "Respect From the Rest of the Partygoers" this item meant, and we were excited.  I would like to say that there was a cosmic moment when we both reached for the meat simultaneously, but alas...

Our shrink-wrapped scepters definitely elevated our status. Many kudos are needed to go to Grillmaster Mike; he knew how to handle the precious. Not only did my meal look magnificent, it tasted 10x better. It's a special someone who puts in TLC for another's keg party passenger.  He sliced 6 or 7 diagonal cuts into the sausage to prevent unwanted rupturing, while allowing access for easy seasoning.

Plump, juicy, with a hint of spice, the sausage could not be contained in your typical hot dog bun.  The size merely added to it's legend.

Thanks Mike. You made my Canada Day. Along with the keg.  And Mennonites.

I'm donning the sash of a Cub Scout.  There is no BBQ merit badge... yet.

Follow me on Twitter: @bowserings

Any Time of Day

I am breaking what I thought was my main rule about this blog: posting when I eat a hot dog. I've decided, however, that it should involve all things hot dog related, not just when I consume one. Case in point: this morning.

Riding in the car with the windows rolled down, I noticed a familiar smell. I remarked that it smelled of hot dogs outside. My girlfriend concurred. However, she followed up her sniff with,
"It's too early for hot dogs..."

I immediately objected. Given the right circumstances, I could enjoy a hot dog at all hours of the day. Plus, it wasn't all that early; 10 am.

I felt so passionately about hot dog's anytime capabilities that it led me to amend the very basis of this blog. And I stand by my First Amendment.

Hot Dogs Anytime.

Follow me on Twitter: @bowserings

First Dog

Welcome to A Hot Dog Blog; a celebration of the cylindrical stalwarts of summertime.
I'll chronicle when and where I enjoy one, as well as any anecdotal relation to the experience.

Sunset Beach Concession Stand

A sunny, summer-like day in Vancouver had me down at Sunset Beach with my friend Leigh. After a couple of hours of basking and reading, it was time to eat. Not long before, Leigh had gone to use the ladies room. I asked her to investigate the concession's hot dog potential, and she returned with a positive review.

It was a long wait in line, even though I was only 2 back. As I waited, I watched a peculiar man move from table to table, checking to see if they were clean. He appeared to have some sort of disability, though I didn't know what. I ordered my hot dog, $3.95. Eventually his name (Brian) was called to retrieve his order (not a hot dog). I pondered as to whether the staff enjoyed his unofficial busboy status. Finally #83 was called, and I was summoned to the counter to accept my hot dog. I was pleased to see that the bun was lightly toasted.

I returned to my Seattle Mariners towel, and devoured my meat treat. Not the greatest hot dog ever, but it hit the spot. And for $3.95, I've eaten worse for more. So it was a positive experience. And one that led me to create this blog.

See you next time I eat a hot dog. 

Sunset Beach Concession Stand.

Follow me on Twitter: @bowserings