3324 N. California Ave. (map)
(773) 279-9550
www.hotdougs.com‎
$

As the son of a urologist, Doug Sohn is fond of pointing out that he followed his father into the wiener business. It wasn’t medical school, however, that brought him to his current enterprise, but a culinary degree from Kendall College, followed by a stint as a cookbook editor.

Most influential, however, was his passionate dedication to the art and science of hot dog joints, which led him and a couple of friends to embark on their own “great search”– a quest to find the best possible hot dog in a city renowned for its hot dog stands, (there are almost 2,000 in Chicago.) Over 40 stands later, with follow-up that included formal, written reviews for their own edification, they concluded that, while there were a few stand-out dogs, none truly shone in a way that would make the cuisine, or the city, proud. So ignoring the advice of everyone, he decided to avenge what he called the lingering insult of so many mediocre dogs. His simple goal: “to create a place that I’d like to go to myself.”

After a couple of visits, one realizes that Hot Doug’s is really a tripartite homage. It is first and foremost an homage to “encased meats”– “there are no two finer words in the English language”, as all of Doug’s signage reminds diners. There are brats and boudins, corn dogs and cajun dogs, Thai sausages, lamb sausages, shrimp sausages, and gold standard Chicago-style hot dogs, with all variety of exotic condiments.

Meanwhile, the décor is an homage to Elvis. After a pilgrimage to the dual shrines of Graceland and Memphis BBQ, Doug returned with a trunkload of Elvis memorabilia. He’s already planning his own local shrine to The King, along one wall of the restaurant. After all, says Doug, “the Love Me Tender hand lotion has to go somewhere.”

Finally, every weekend he pays homage to “Les Frites en Gras de Canard”, by heating up rendered D’Artagnan duck fat for his signature duck-fat fries. These fries are themselves another homage, to Doug’s love affair with France and in particular to the Bordelais bistro, La Tupina, where he found inspiration in the constantly simmering cauldron of duck fat in the middle of the dining room.

When asked if he thinks he’s finally created the perfect hot dog stand, Doug waxes modest, “It’s close and darn good– but I can’t be objective.” Even in his own joint, the great search continues.