Kitsch-en Kounter: We Have a Wiener (Dog)!!!

As proven by our Mexican Corn Dogs (a questionable take on tamales), it is nigh impossible to improve on the perfection of the classic corn dog.  Nevertheless, in all of my foolhardiness, I keep on trying.

Last weekend I was invited to an "Edible Atrocities" potluck birthday party where each guest was asked to bring a dish inspired by the kooky culinary traditions of 20th-Century American cookery.  Instead of referencing my shelf of vintage cookbooks, I decided to explore that well-known black hole of bizarre ideas, my own brain.  The very last thing in the world that I like to do is waste food; I knew I had to make something that was both bizarre and, hopefully, crowd-pleasing.  What's more crowd-pleasing than corn dogs?

What's more edible than that all-American pantry staple, Jiffy Cornbread Mix?
 "Quality and Value since 1930!" 

And what's more atrocious than CHEESY WEENIES?!?!!
"Nutrition facts:" none.

After considering the options for a corn dog casserole, it was clear that a 9x13" pan was not going to cut the mustard.  It is oft said that we eat with our eyes first; shape is always important and a circle is always appealing - think donut, burger, cookies, pizza, all the best foods.

I realized that I had pans brownie, cake, springform, angel food, loaf, glass, non-stick, etc.  The one gaping hole in my pan-theon of baking pans was a one with a gaping hole; I needed a ring/bundt-type pan.  A quick trip to the thrift store on half-price day was the answer to my kitsch-en kounter prayers - a steel steal at 50¢!

It was at this moment that I considered the possibility that I might have
overfilled the pan.  Instead of panicking, I just gave myself a pat on the
back for putting everything on a lined cookie sheet!

After a bit of clean-up and cooling time, this corn dog creation was nearly award ready.
Next stop, the "Wiener's Circle!!!"

Of course, a simple ring was a little too tame for the type of party people that this savory corn cake was going to feed.  The "edible" box had been ticked, it was time to tackle "atrocious."  The corn-dog casserole needed a puppy personality and the obvious direction was dachshund, a wiener-dog wiener dog!!!

Using golden potatoes and black olives, I made a simple dog face that
ended up reminding me more than a little bit of Gromit. 

Atop a bed of curly parsley, chasing its roasted-potato tail on potato-wedge feet around
a bowl of honey-mustard glaze, this Golden Wiener Ring pup was prepped to party!

While the Golden Cheesy Weenie Ring is not necessarily what I would hold up as a "Kitsch-en Kounter" best, I feel fortunate that failure really wasn't an option when "atrocity" was the desired outcome.  The only real failure was that, at the last minute, with the Golden Wiener Dog on the leash and ready to go, some silly circumstances precluded my attendance at the party.  Talk about wasting food - I wasn't about to eat this junk!!!  Hahaha!!!

Well, who wants leftovers?  Do you like corn dogs?  Have you ever experimented with crazy mid-century recipes?  Have you been brave enough to eat the results?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Chow Time: Hillbilly Hot Dogs

Do you ever go someplace entirely new to you only to get the feeling that somehow you're home?  Where the accumulation of generations' worth of junk is immediately off-putting and comfortably familiar?  Where the jokes are inappropriate, immature, unappetizing, AND entirely hilarious?   Where the food is nothing like "Mama used to make," and that is a good thing?  Hillbilly Hot Dogs in Lesage, WV is the home for which I'd never dared to dream!

I have never posted two "Chow Time" posts in a row, but I am winding up my wild and wonderful West Virginia wingding and I didn't quite plan the sequence as carefully as I might have. 

I told you that I found my home.
Like "A Town Called Odd," I'm unsure if I should be flattered or
offended by the offer of mayorship of Teenie Weenie Land.

Opened in the waning days of the 20th Century, Hillbilly Hot Dogs' appearance belies its mere adolescence; aged outbuildings, rusty farmyard equipment, and weathered vehicles give the facilities the time worn look of a much older hillbilly holler.  While technically it is a restaurant, Hillbilly Hot Dogs is at its core a giant junkyard.  Except for the unctuous aroma of hot dog and french fry oils heavily perfuming the air, a traveler might mistake HHD for the Appalachian interpretation of Sanford and Son.  Not shy of that fact, the management has made the "Junkyard Dog" one of the premiere menu items.  

Just one of the many outbuildings on the premises of Hillbilly Hot Dogs.
I know I have a serious problem when I review this photo and see more than a
 few items that I wish I would have brought home as souvenirs from my trip.

With its tongue firmly entrenched in the hollow of its cheek (parts of the anatomy one really shouldn't think about when eating mystery-meat hot dogs), HHD takes all of the hillbilly stereotypes, embraces them, and makes them digestible for an outsider audience.  

Multiple buses are "dry docked" and repurposed as dining rooms.

At least it's two-ply.

This tree is going places!

We found our seats (in the way back where all the cool kids sit)
but not before picking up a few permanent black markers. 

Every available surface from trash cans, to windows, to weather-beaten
toys is covered in names, dates, quotes, quips, and expressions of love.
We would have gotten in serious trouble writing on the walls when we were kids.
Nevertheless, I will say that I wasn't shy about leaving my mark at HHD.

Do you ever see these plates when you're out and about?
I am always drawn to them but when it comes time to buy
them, for some reason choose to exhibit my most elusive
virtue - restraint.  I figured that signing the plate would
alleviate some of my non-buyer's remorse.

After surveying the premises and making a lasting impression on the walls and windows of a school bus, we made our way to the counter to order our hillbilly grub.  The menu, like the sprawling yard, is extensive and took some time to peruse.  The big challenge is the "Home Wrecker," a fifteen-inch hot dog with everything (and I mean everything) on it.  If a single guest can finish this big dog in under twelve minutes, the Home Wrecker and a prize T-shirt are free (stomach pump NOT included).  We toyed with the idea of ordering one and splitting it amongst our party of four but the last thing I wanted to do was waste time being sick!

At least we were assured that the food would be healthy...

Some crazy french fry concoction
I'm more of a purist.

The Hillbilly Hot Dog
(Mustard, chili, and onions)

The West Virginia Dog
(Chili, onions, and coleslaw)

The Strictly Business Dog
As I've mentioned before, my brother-in-law hails from the great state of Hawaii.
Not wanting to shame the people of his home state, he indulged in a hot dog
topped with that most-misunderstood delicacy, Spam (fried Spam at that).

A corn dog.

Refueling of all varieties takes place at HHD.

Lewd, crude, and disgustingly rude...why didn't I think of that?

It would have been entirely possible, necessary even, to have spent hours combing the grounds of Hillbilly Hot Dogs inspecting all of the accumulated treasures, dilapidated vehicles, and silly signage.  Unfortunately, we had to keep our visit brief as this was my very last stop before winging my way home.

Hillbilly Hot Dogs (Flagship Location)
6951 Ohio River Rd
Lesage, WV
(304)762-2458

www.hillbillyhotdogs.com


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny