A few weeks ago, I went to New York City for a meeting and met a group of girlfriends for dinner at The Carlyle. Built in 1930 and named for the British essayist Thomas Carlyle, the iconic Upper East Side hotel is a true Manhattan landmark. The Prince of Wales has stayed there. Diana herself stayed there. And what did I do there?

I ate hot dogs.

 

My friend Nancy is a regular in Bemelmans Bar, an art deco lounge where the ceiling is covered in 24-karat gold leaf. Looking down the list of snacks, I saw Osetra caviar, a charcuterie plate, steak tartar with toast points and mini hot dogs.

Five hot dogs. For $19.

I thought, really? Hot dogs at the Carlyle? Then I saw that they were made with Kobe beef and served on brioche buns with housemade relish. And so I had to have them.

They brought out one for each of us. They were bite-size and exquisite. Afterwards we went into the main restaurant and had everything from lobster thermidor to Grand Mariner soufflé, but nothing more fun and fabulous than those tiny hot dogs.

Shortly after I got home, I went to LaGrange, Georgia, for another meeting and spent a little time driving around the town beforehand. Right off the square was a place called Charlie Joseph’s that’d been there since 1920. The sign said they had “world’s best hot dogs,” which piqued my attention for two reasons:

1. I’d just had what I thought was world’s best hot dog.
2. I was starving.

The place is run by Joey Keeth, the grandson of Charlie Joseph himself. And according to the website, Joey is also a good man to call if you need tennis lessons or your tennis racket restrung.

The menu is basic: hot dogs, burgers, chicken salad sandwiches and sweet tea. I only had eyes for the chili slaw dog with relish, which is something I eat once every five years or so. It wasn’t made of Kobe beef—I don’t even want to think about what it was made of—but it was exactly what I wanted it to be.