Above: The Chicago dog at Frank in Austin, Texas.
Thanksgiving turkey? Apple pie? Burger and fries?
Is there any dish that embodies the American culinary spirit more than the hot dog?
Even the French love hot dogs…
Above: Polish sausage with the works.
Yesterday, I finally made it to Frank, Austin’s local temple to hot dog and hipsterdom.
If ever there were an asylum run by the inmates, it would be Frank.
I got there mid-afternoon and every seat at the bar was occupied by handlebar mustaches, pierced nostrils, tattoo sleeves, and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. The scene was a mirror reflection, minus the beer cans, of the bar staff.
Above: Drinks are served in ball jars.
I loved Frank. I loved its Austinite originality. I loved its unabashed embrace of americana. I loved its affordability and approachability. AND Frank is both family- and hipster-friendly.
And who doesn’t like a hot dog?
To not love the hot dog would just be flat-out, downright unAmerican!
Happy summer, yall