Even though they are usually castigated to the lowest rung of earthly delicacies, I do so love a hot dog, good or bad, nestled snugly between a bun and covered with mustard or whatever accouterments are available. Maybe that’s the reason I loved Doggie Style so much, located at 2000 S. Broadway in Edmond.
A frankfurter lover’s paradise, Doggy Style serves practically nothing but hot dogs, the large board of available wieners slapping you erotically in the face as you walk in, offering every style of frank from the utterly banal to the genuinely exotic, pairing together ingredients and flavors even I didn’t know was possible.
As my favorite gal-pal Jodie and I stood there reading every description of each charmed hot dog, it almost became overwhelming for us, wanting to try everything on the menu but only having the intestinal constitution to sample two or three of their luxurious wieners at the most. We ordered and held our breath for the tastiness to come.
Jodie ordered the basic Puppy Dogg ($4.00) with a side of Chili Fries ($6.00). Using a bit of mayo and some relish to cover her nude wiener, just a bite of hers got me excited visibly for my own upcoming franks, the steam rising from the dog after each bite, unleashing a certain sort of deliciousness, making me jealous I didn’t have mine yet.
After a wait of about fifteen or so minutes—which, when I looked at the complex staging of my franks, I completely understood—I received my starter dog, the Houstonian ($6.00), apparently named in honor of my birthplace. Nearly buried in shredded cheddar, the fried beef wiener was accompanied with onion, relish, yellow mustard and, thankfully, their “famous” chili, which tasted very upscale, if chili can do that.
Completely enamored with the dog, I shoved that grilled tube of beef forcefully down my gullet, deep-dogging that wiener like no one’s business, cheese spilling down the sides of my mouth. After a gulp of water and a helping of my genuinely remarkable Etouffee Fries ($9.00)—complete with crawfish etouffee, remoulade sauce and a bit of a Cajun spice sprinkle—it prepared me for my next dog.
Written in erasable marker on a dry-erase board out front, I had to try the special, the Gator Dog ($12.00). Hoping that it’ll snip and snap at me like one of those leathery Florida miscreants, as it crept before me, the fleshy bit of the wiener was split open, revealing an explosion of sauce-swimming cuts of gator meat, apparently my third time to ingest the aquaticus creature this year.
With no mixed words. it was an absolutely perfect hot dog. As I set it in my gaping mouth, a mixture of tantalizing spices begged me to finish it off and finish it now, the best thing a gourmet wiener could ever ask me to do. I wiped the sauce off my lips and breathed deeply one last time, finishing that Gator Dog off completely and effortlessly. Cómpralo ya!
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