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re: Zweigle's & hotdog storytime
Jul. 2nd, 2025 05:25 pmAs I wrote in this entry, my wife made me Zweigle's (Zweigles?) skinned (not skinless, meaning there is a casing) hotdogs, and I'd promised to report back with my findings, so that is what I am doing.
All of the Rochester natives will be happy to know...they were good.
Like really good.
Like, "probably the best hot dog I've had tbh" good and with that sentence I might not be allowed back to New Jersey because it will be taken as slander against the "illustrious hotdog" known as Sabrett's but, imo, that's okay lol considering NJ is also the state where they argue over things like whether it's a pork roll sandwich or a taylor ham sandwich.
As far as preparation goes, they were fried on the stovetop griddle and the buns were toasted, as you do; I had them with...
(Maybe instead of having bologna I'll just get these and eat them like grilled meat sticks...)
My track record growing up was never good when it came to hotdogs. They used to give me digestive issues because of the skin on them, so I was more or less forbidden from ever having them. Maybe it wasn't the skin on them so much as how they were prepared. Who fucking knows. Egg forbid me from ever having any. Any time they were offered I had to turn them down and have something else instead, like cheeseburgers or something.
In high school during International Festival, one of the foods representing the US was the hotdog, and on a whim I decided to try one since Mrs C grilled them and they smelled really good. I had them with the works (minus sauerkraut) so relish, mustard, ketchup, all that. And they were good and I didn't have any problems whatsoever. But they were prepared properly—fried—so maybe that had something to do with it? I don't know. When I'd told Egg about my hotdog epiphany, she acted shocked.
"You always hated hotdogs though and refused to eat them as a kid."
Yeah, because you said they made me ill, so I was never given them after a certain point. You know who never really cared for hotdogs?
Egg. The woman who was trying to turn me into her mini-me. Unsuccessfully, I might add.
All of the Rochester natives will be happy to know...they were good.
Like really good.
Like, "probably the best hot dog I've had tbh" good and with that sentence I might not be allowed back to New Jersey because it will be taken as slander against the "illustrious hotdog" known as Sabrett's but, imo, that's okay lol considering NJ is also the state where they argue over things like whether it's a pork roll sandwich or a taylor ham sandwich.
As far as preparation goes, they were fried on the stovetop griddle and the buns were toasted, as you do; I had them with...
- Wegmans brand sweet relish (better than Heinz sweet relish)
- Wegmans brand spicy brown mustard
- topped with Wegmans brand ketchup (also better than Heinz)
(Maybe instead of having bologna I'll just get these and eat them like grilled meat sticks...)
My track record growing up was never good when it came to hotdogs. They used to give me digestive issues because of the skin on them, so I was more or less forbidden from ever having them. Maybe it wasn't the skin on them so much as how they were prepared. Who fucking knows. Egg forbid me from ever having any. Any time they were offered I had to turn them down and have something else instead, like cheeseburgers or something.
In high school during International Festival, one of the foods representing the US was the hotdog, and on a whim I decided to try one since Mrs C grilled them and they smelled really good. I had them with the works (minus sauerkraut) so relish, mustard, ketchup, all that. And they were good and I didn't have any problems whatsoever. But they were prepared properly—fried—so maybe that had something to do with it? I don't know. When I'd told Egg about my hotdog epiphany, she acted shocked.
"You always hated hotdogs though and refused to eat them as a kid."
Yeah, because you said they made me ill, so I was never given them after a certain point. You know who never really cared for hotdogs?
Egg. The woman who was trying to turn me into her mini-me. Unsuccessfully, I might add.
