For those of you who don't know, today was National Hot Dog day. And as such, I treated myself to a quintessential Chicago-style hot dog.
Not, as you might think, because I wanted one.... oh no, no, no... because National Hot Dog day required it of me. It's like a national obligation. The world is spinning out of control, but I can control my little part of the world, and heed the siren call of that delectable, yet horrible, tube steak.
Calling me to add pickles, sport peppers, tomatoes, neon-green relish (in a colour that isn't found in nature), yellow mustard, diced-onions and finally celery salt on a steamed poppy-seed bun. Don't even think of adding ketchup... that's a criminal offense in Chicago and the collar-counties surrounding the city.
It was delicious. I did, of course, include a side-order of french-fries, but because I'm watching my girlish figure, I only ordered a small fry, with a diet-coke.