For me, it was last week. At the North Carolina state fair.
I love food, and I love to cook. But sometimes, a hot dog is the right thing to eat. With chili sauce, thank you very much.
Some of my first solo cooking experiences involved hot dogs. Frozen ones, in a pack of twelve. My mom would call to say she was headed home and I'd take them out of the freezer, peel off the plastic, put the whole frozen lump in a pot of water (I can picture the exact brown enameled pot with a creamy-white interior), and wait for them to boil.
These days they're usually reserved for outings - like the fair, ball games and BBQs.
Along with the corn dog.
Yum-my.
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