HOW TO COOK THE PERFECT HOT DOG

The hot dog is as much a part of American Independence Day celebrations as fireworks and the Star-Spangled Banner, a holiday that sees this humble snack elevated to star turn at celebratory barbecues and picnics throughout the land. Indeed, Coney Island’s annual Nathan's famous Hot-dog contest bills itself as “a physical manifestation of the concept of freedom”, representing “the spirit of July 4th itself”. And there were we thinking it was all about the bangers.

Amateurs like me might think there’s not much debate about the best way to cook a hot dog – frankfurters come ready cooked or cured, and simply require heating up, which is why they are such a popular snack at that most American of places, the ballpark. Baseball fans like them poached, movie theatres favour the heated roller approach, while Eleanor Roosevelt preferred to grill them for George VI. Hell, you could probably fry a passable hot dog on the bonnet of your car in Death Valley if you wanted, but what gets the best results?

Casing the joint

Before I fire up the barbecue and prep the steamer, however, we must consider the matter of the sausage itself. According to the American National Hot Dog and Sausage Council, the hot dog is a “cooked and/or smoked” sausage “prepared from one or more types of muscle meat or poultry” – frankfurters tend to be made from beef, and wieners also contain pork. To be honest, this definition need not concern British readers too much, because it’s hard enough to get a decent hot dog over here, let alone a choice, though I have no reason to doubt my esteemed colleague Tony Naylor when he write that hat all-beef hot dogs are “too tightly compacted, too meaty and … a bit dry … Sausages need the sort of lubrication that pork readily supplies.” That said, millions of Americans swear by them, so if you find an all-beef version, by all means give it a try.

 

Most hot dogs, both here and in the States, are sold skinless – the kind of uniformly textured, smoky vacuum-packed tubes familiar to me from childhood – but gourmands prefer the “snappy shell” of a natural casing. They’re harder to find in shops (though easy to order online), but it’s well worth the effort for the pleasing textural contrast and juicy filling.

Grilling

The most obvious way to cook a hot dog, but one that’s fraught with danger: though there’s little doubt that the intense heat and smoke of the barbecue, or even a well primed griddle, is the best bet flavourwise, it also has a tendency to split the skins before the insides are hot, drying out the sausage. The infamous Katz’s deli uses this method with puzzling success, apparently achieving a “nice char” on a sizzling hotplate without a single casualty, but if you haven’t had years of practice, I wouldn’t recommend it. Slashing the skins, to cook them faster, as Serious Eats’ Joshua Bousel recommends for a skinless sausage, or even spiralising them with a knife, simply speeds up the leakage. Definitely room for improvement.

Baking

Doug Sohn of Chicago’s legendary, and now shuttered, Hot Doug’s, recommends Making hot dogs at 180C to firm up the casing before chucking them on a hot grill. This might be economical in a restaurant, but at home heating the oven so briefly feels like a waste – and the casings still split on the griddle. As we’re looking to retain as much moisture as possible, it seems to make more sense to look to a water-based method.

Steaming

Curiously, though a steamer is not the first tool that springs to mind when I think of a sausage, it’s a popular option, though caution is necessary; unless you have a temperature-controlled version, it’s easy to split the sausage before it has heated through, thus sacrificing some of its juices.

Blake Royer of the Paupered Chef prefers to simmer and stem the sausage an half a pan of water allowed to boil dry, then fry it in butter – delicious, but it’s impossible to get the pan hot enough to allow for any charring without burning the butter, and in any case, I’m not convinced a good hot dog requires anything in the way of extra fat.

Poaching

 

Order a hot dog on a New York sidewalk, and, chances are, it will be plucked out of a vat of so-called “dirty water” – the gentle heat of a water bath is ideal for keeping the sausages firm and juicy, especially if you have the patience to heat them as slowly as the poster psychicmidget on the food site chow, who writes that "the best way in my opinion, is to take your pot of boiling water off the heat, add the dogs cover and wait for 25minutes"

The resulting sausages have lost none of their glorious heft during cooking, but they don’t have the same flavour of a grilled version – a more direct, intense heat in the skins, which is why Chicago food writer NicKindelsperger recommends poaching hot-dogs at 68C,  then finishing them under a hot grill, which I find fiddly – it’s difficult to keep them moving so they char evenly. ChefMichael Chiarello, meanwhile, puts the sausages into a pan of salted water, brings it up to the boil, then, “for an added kick of flavour”, cuts them in half and fries them in olive oil, which again adds unnecessary grease to proceedings.

Bousel prefers to poach them in a “flavourful liquid” on top of the barbecue before giving them a quick char on the hot grill. The method makes sense, but I can’t taste the beer and beef stock I use in the finished dish; the smoky, salty flavour of the sausage wins out, even before any condiments are added. Better, and easier, to slow cook them in plain old water.

Deep-frying

 

The deep-fried hot dog, or ripper, is particularly popular in New Jersey, and is named after the violence that hot oil wreaks on the skin of the sausage. Frankly, I’m terrified the whole thing is going to explode and set my kitchen on fire, but, happily, it contents itself with a yawning chasm that proves the ideal home for a line of mustard. There’s a certain pleasing crispness about the thing, but I don’t think it’s worth the oil, or the heart palpitations, involved in its creation.

Flame-grilled

A hot dog cooked over an open flame sounds like a wonderful idea – and far less risky than attempting the same thing with a raw sausage. The problem is, however, that it’s far too easy to incinerate the outside before the middle is even warm; if you want to do this round a campfire, then I’d recommend taking along a primus to poach the sausages first. It may not be romantic, but it will at least be edible.

The perfect hot dog

After eating enough hot dogs to make me a serious contender for next year’s Coney Island contest, I can confirm that slow poaching is the best bet for a juicy hot dog, followed by a quick blast on a smoking hot grill for flavour. Given the brevity of this final char, it’s hardly worth firing up the barbecue for, but if you’re cooking other things, that’s certainly the best bet; otherwise a super-heated griddle will do a pretty decent job with a little less in the way of smoky season

Far be it from me to wade into the far more contentious area of toppings and condiments  in Chicago, they’ll eat you alive for asking for ketchup, while in New York it’s not a not a hot dog without sauerkraut, and in the south, you might well get it topped with chilli coleslaw. Poppy seed bun, pizza bread or steamed Mexican roll, barbecue sauce, ketchup or mustard … embrace the spirit of American Independence, and mix and match to your heart’s desire. A word of warning, though – you might want to keep that HP to yourself.

Hot dogs in natural casings

Oil, to grease

Heat the barbecue if using. Bring a pan of water up to the boil, then add the sausages, cover and take off the heat. Allow to sit for 20 minutes.

 Poached in hot water off the heat for 25 minutes. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian

Meanwhile, if you’re going for the griddle-pan option, lightly grease it and heat until smoking hot. When the sausages are done, grill briefly, keeping them moving, until lightly charred on all sides – (it doesn’t matter too much if they split a bit at this point). Pop into a bun, top as desired, and devour.

Are hot dogs hot stuff, or just a bit of a flop? Do you prefer a German bratwurst to a Detroit Coney, are you all about the beef or do you prefer pork or even chicken, and, most importantly of all … ketchup or mustard? (And, for those celebrating the fourth of July, if you’re not doing so with hot dogs, what will you be eating?)

Source : THE GUARDIAN