It’s time for the last pant of summer: Labor Day weekend.
As the first leaves start to fall, plumes of savory smoke
will certainly dot the republic — and many will be streamer to a
room store like Costco to buy griddle and party
supplies in bulk beforehand.
Racks of ribs and five-pound packs of prohibited dogs will be drifting off
the shelves in a celebratory bulk-buying frenzy.
Yet so many selling for dogs to griddle will likely zephyr right
past maybe the best prohibited dogs in the country: Costco’s.
I’m no hot-dog connoisseur, but of all I’ve tried in my life thus
far, Costco’s is the
How is the nation’s best prohibited dog from such a bare-bones place as
the Costco cafeteria?
First of all, it’s a good value. You can order a prohibited dog
and a splash for $1.50 — that’s it. And deliberation how vast the
prohibited dog is, it’s really an vast deal.
But a understanding alone isn’t adequate to lean most. The expectations are
understandably low for a Costco meal. But on that first bite,
it’s extravagantly transparent that this is no run-of-the-mill hot
The dog is suddenly flavorful. Gone is the bland, hollow
ambience of the normal prohibited dog; instead, a pleasant smoky
taste pervades, identical to a kielbasa sausage, but not as
greasy or rich. There’s a slight charred ambience to it that
isn’t overpowering. It’s juicy, and there’s a gratifying snap
with every bite.
This is not the routine frankfurter that one microwaves for 30
seconds before chopping up and throwing in some ill-conceived
mac-and-cheese dinner. Nay — this dog has vitality. The
condiments aren’t needed to facade the soul-crushing saltiness
that they routinely would, but simply to element the
already-delicious prohibited dog.
Speaking of condiments: Ketchup, mustard, relish, onions,
and sauerkraut — if you’re into that — are all at your
ordering at Costco’s commissary. Such freedom is truly a
inhabitant value estimable of our patronage.
The bun is deceptively elementary — what’s in a bun, after all? It’s
seen as the vehicle, not the cargo. Yet the bun is the
unsung favourite of this prohibited dog.
It’s soothing and pliant, and tastes easily sweet, which complements
the dog itself perfectly. But the genuine sorcery happens when the
condiments are dumped on the dog with furious desert — precisely
since zero happens. The bun is defence to unfair sogginess or
black breakage. It’s truly miraculous.
By all means, griddle your own prohibited dogs in the backyard — burn them
if you must. But if you find yourself streamer to Costco to stock
up on outrageous amounts of paper napkins, beef for the grill, etc., do
yourself a preference and squeeze a prohibited dog on the way out. You’ll be