Worst in show: I put Petchup on my wiener
Worst in show: I put Petchup on my wiener
Also: Chicago, please don't punt me in the grundle
Earlier this year, I was fortunate enough to be a guest on a podcast called Carbface For Radio (you can listen to my episode here), run by Laurie and Chris. Laurie is a food writer and Anthony Bourdain’s former lieutenant, and Chris is notorious for causing a shitload of food trouble on Twitter. I spoke on the same microphone that my food heroes (Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, anyone? And, you know who.) have been on and I got to talk about diarrhea and shoving cranberries up my ass at Aldi.
Not too much long after we recorded the episode, Laurie put this picture up on Instagram.
So.
You know.
I bought all three.
We do not have a dog.
Yes, I am disgusting.
The package sat on a table for months, taking up space, until I finally decided to start this newsletter.
As you can see, Harvey and Mr. Bee are absolutely thrilled to be back.
When it comes to pet food, I have no qualms about trying it, because there’s something wrong with me. And I was in for a real treat today.
A brown treat.
I did a lot of thinking and thought, well, what are the kinds of foods that you typically enjoy mustard, mayonnaise, and ketchup with?
I started with a softball. Pretzels and mustard are always a good pair, right?
I was not prepared for this.
Right when I opened the Muttstard bottle, I was hit with a strong whiff of fish. That’s when I looked at the ingredients. The second ingredient (after water) is…salmon oil. I looked at the rest of the label, and sure enough, it says, “Salmon Flavor” right on the front. Fuck.
I tore off a piece of the pretzel and gingerly dipped it in the Muttstard (I feel stupider every time I type that word), closed my eyes, and took a big bite.
You’ve all had really cheap canned fish, right?
Imagine that. But also imagine that the aftertaste doesn’t go away. It’s been around three hours since I tried this and I can’t get over the fish flavor. This is like the Malört of dog food.
I opened up the Mutt-N-Aise expecting at least a white-ish or gray-ish color, but no. I was met with the color of diarrhea. Runny diarrhea.
When I think of mayonnaise, I think of things like BLTs, potato salad, and in this case, egg salad. I love egg salad.
I made a super basic version, just egg and the diarrhea-looking-liquid, which is turkey broth-based. I mean, for the most part, it has appealing ingredients in it, like pumpkin and carrot, two things I did not know dogs enjoy. And then, of course, more fish oil.
It could have been the egg covering it up, but the fish oil flavor was a little less pronounced. I tasted some of this brown dogonnaise by itself. It did not taste like turkey. It tasted like bullshit. The egg salad tasted like eggs and essence of sardine.
I thought to myself, “Man, dogs are stupid.” Then I realized I bought this stuff for myself.
Last month I worked a shift at Hermosa, one of my favorite restaurants in Chicago (named after the neighborhood the owner and one-man-show Ethan, grew up in), for National Hot Dog Day. Ethan is a terrific chef and an all-around nice guy. His Asian-inspired sandwiches are some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. But Hermosa also sells classic hot dogs, polishes, and Italian beef.
The day I worked there, I was responsible for assembling hot dogs in all sorts of ways, mostly Chicago-style, and a few hot dogs for kids with just ketchup on them. Except for one order.
Someone ordered a Chicago dog with ketchup on it.
You know what’s coming next.
I ordered a fully-loaded hot dog and put Petchup on it.
Sorry, Ethan. I know you’re reading this. And to all of Chicago: I am fully prepared for all of you to uppercut me in the ass.
Petchup, in case you were wondering (probably not), is beef-based. With, of course, another dose of fish oil. Out of all three dog-condiments, or dogiments, this one is the most savory and least fishy. Imagine cheap brown gravy with the oil from canned mackerel.
I tested Chicago’s entire spirit today.
The magnificence of a Chicago-style hot dog is extremely apparent when you put Petchup on it. Because if anything, the strong flavors from the hot dog, mustard, traffic-light-green relish, tomatoes, pickle, and celery salt, stand firm and tough above the flavor of Petchup. I can happily say that Chicago prevailed, and all I could taste was a beautiful hot dog.
Okay, and maybe a little bit of fish.
This is the part where I thank you guys for being here and for supporting my writing and stupid antics. I am still overwhelmed by how many of you have signed up.
I owe you, and considering that this is only my fourth post in these new digs, you have no idea how insane it feels that so many of you just straight up went balls to the wall and pitched in.
Don’t forget to share this on Twitter, Facebook, Tinder, Grindr, and LinkedIn if you liked it, because I have a tiny ego that needs to be tenderly caressed and I have two tiny stuffed animals who are itching to get famous so they can ditch me.
Now I have to figure out what to do with all of these dogiments.