I’ve mentioned before the food I’ve gleaned from the convenience store at 14th and Cedar, and this might be the last time I report on it, because circumstances have conspired to keep me away. Here’s a corndog I bought from them.
The corndog had languished all day under the heat lamps, which had baked its battered shell into a weird stale cocoon. But the meat tasted lightly aged and overall it had a fighting spirit that I couldn’t help but admire. This was one little corndog that never gave up.
14th and Cedar Convenience Corndog – Grade C plus
The backbone of the hotdog/industrial complex is the gas station. The Tetco at the corner of 29th and Guadalupe proudly bears this standard of hotdog excellence. They have a greasy, well-tempered roller rack of dogs that have reached their maturity at a biologically inhibitive temperature. The nacho cheese machine has a phlegmatically gloopy thing going on, and the chili dispenser extrudes overly runny meat-paste, but the hotdog itself is solid.
Plus, you can get a combo that includes a soda and chips for the unbelievably low price of $3. This is what makes hotdogs the crucial foodstuff that they are — the industrial economy of scale reflected in low, low prices.
Tetco Chili Dog Combo – Grade B
People in Texas are stunned when I tell them that the A&W in my home town closed for the winter. It was just a shack at the edge of the swamp, with waitresses coming out to the car (like at Sonic). But they only did it when water stayed in liquid form. You ever see a root beer stand waitress lose a toe to frostbite? There is nothing more tragic.
So it always feels like a little of the summer magic when I stop at A&W. And I would wager to say that their chili coney dog is pretty magical too.
Everything about this dog radiates luscious plumpness, to an almost sexually obscene degree. If I hadn’t eaten this hotdog, I probably would have spanked it over and over again until my A&W booth was a smear of greasy brown chili.
And the hotdog itself was delicious. The meat broke crisply between my incisors, revealing a dark and spicy substrate.
The bun itself was like a cloud. It soaked up some chii, and then disappeared down my gullet without touching teeth or tongue.
I wish there had been more of this hotdog, but I guess there’s only so much indulgence that one man can absorb in a single sitting.
A&W Chili Coney Dog – Grade A minus
