Steak dogs with all the fixin's
Steak dogs with all the fixin's
why not pick up some power tools while you're at it?
Hi, everyone!
Hope you’re all well. Aside from my birthday (we had sashimi and drank some soju), I had a thankfully uneventful last week. It’s funny how a few normal days can feel like a relief.
Today’s piece is mostly about a subject local food writers have somewhat exhausted over the years, including myself, and that’s hot dogs. The outside world seems fascinated with their (usually) heavily-dressed style, and locals like to bicker over their favorites. So that means hot dogs are a subject that can be written about on a regular basis, especially if someone tosses in some new hot take which inevitably causes mayhem.
Back in December when my piece about my eight favorite hot dog stands was published on Bon Appétit, Instagram commenters raked me over the coals for not including one particular place.
I’m talking about Fixin’ Franks.
Some people were extremely grouchy about my choices and dismissed my list because I hadn’t included it. Hey, at least only one person accused me of being paid off by mom and pop hot dog stands.
If that name means nothing to you, that’s because barely anyone calls it that. This is because every Fixin’ Franks location is situated inside select Home Depot locations across Chicago, and almost everyone just refers to them as “Depot Dogs.” In fact, I’m not actually sure I even knew that the stands had an official name up until a few years ago.
(I do love the name Fixin’ Franks, though. It took me a while to get the joke.)
The stands themselves aren’t owned by Home Depot.
They’re contracted out to Fixin’ Franks, and as of last year, there were 17 locations across the city. And if you’re wondering why I didn’t include their hot dogs on my list, that’s because I’ve always considered them a solid option, but not necessarily my personal favorite.
Don’t get me wrong, the standard dog with everything ($3.75, price varies slightly by location, pictured in header) is reliably good. This version is the fully loaded kind with mustard, chopped onions, questionably green relish, tomato slices, a pickle spear, sport peppers, and celery salt on top.
The hot dog itself is skinless; I tend to prefer ones with natural casing for that fun snap it provides. But it’s still juicy and flavorful, and unlike most stands which use Vienna Beef, the hot dogs come from a local family-owned manufacturer called Makowski’s Real Sausage. (Nick Kindelsperger wrote a great piece about Fixin’ Franks a few years ago.)
Is it the best? Not in my opinion. So why bother writing about the place?
Well, I realized at some point that I’ve only ever had the regular hot dogs at Depot Do—er, Fixin’ Franks, though, and have never bothered to try anything else, aside from the elotes once (yes, they have elotes). That’s why for today’s edition of the newsletter, I thought I’d branch out and try other parts of the menu to see what I’ve been missing.
I learned that if you ask for any of the sausages without specifying what toppings you want on them, the employee will just assume you want everything you get on a regular Chicago dog (which I love).
That’s why this Polish sausage ($4.35, prices vary by location) looks almost exactly like the hot dog in the header image up top. I was originally hoping to score the Maxwell Street version, which has a sturdier sausage, grilled onions, mustard, and J.P. Graziano’s stellar giardinera on it, but I ended up with the regular Polish instead, probably because I mumble.
In Chicago, there’s multiple types of Polish sausages, which is something I don’t think a lot of people mention much. There’s giant snappy kielbasas that sometimes have a flat end (where it was cut to fit a hot dog bun) with a slightly coarse grind to them. Those are my favorite. Then there’s a kind of Polish sausages that are skinless and shaped like a regular hot dog. That’s what you’ll get if you ask for a Polish and not a Maxwell at Fixin’ Franks.
While they look nearly identical to a regular hot dog, these Polishes have a more aggressive seasoning to them that’s distinctly different than your run-of-the-mill tube steak. If the idea of a regular hot dog bores you, this is the route to go.
And what kind of proper Chicago hot dog stand would Fixin’ Franks be without an Italian beef sandwich?
Fixin’ Franks serves a product from a company called Joey’s Italian Beef (there’s signs that say so on some of the stands). You can order it dry or dipped, with hot giardinera, and adding mozzarella is even an option.
Is it the best Italian beef in the city? Not by a long shot. But I still liked it. The truth is, most Italian beef sandwiches land in a middle area where they hit the spot, but don’t always wow you. And that’s okay, because they don’t have to. You’re at Home Depot to fix that annoying leaky faucet, and the world’s most convenient Italian beef is there to brighten your day. No need to look a gift beef in the mouth.
But the coolest things on Fixin’ Franks menu right now are the two Wagyu beef offerings.
Yup, you read that correctly. They sell fucking Wagyu beef sausages at some Home Depots in Chicago. How fun is that? Not all of them, however—there’s a Wagyu bratwurst and a steak dog available at just a few Fixin’ Franks locations, which are supplied from Vander Farmers in Michigan.
I know that the term Wagyu gets slapped around with reckless abandon these days, so I get if you examine these labels with some hesitation. The type of cows Vander Farmers raises are a cross breed between Japanese Black cows and Holsteins, which don’t command the same type of price as those ultra-marbled steaks at high-end restaurants. Hence their ability to use that meat in fancy hot dogs and brats.
I was able to score a Wagyu brat ($8) at the Home Depot nearest our place, on Kimball (they were out of the hot dogs), and after my first bite I was shocked.
I have to admit, I had my doubts until I tried it. This was a high quality sausage with a coarse grind, lots of juice, and a natural casing, and the flavor was genuinely so good I was taken off guard. They do take extra time to prepare, but I think waiting around eight minutes for it to come off the griddle is totally worth it.
I loved this bratwurst so much that I made it my day’s mission to find the Wagyu hot dog version so I could write about it. It took me stops at three other Home Depot locations before I finally scored one.
[As a related aside, the Fixin’ Franks location on North Avenue in Lincoln Park is closed permanently. When I poked my head into the vacant booth, a Home Depot employee walked by seeing the pained look on my face, and said, “Hot dogs? Sorry man, it’s closed.”
“Do you know if anything is replacing it? I asked. His expression wasn’t optimistic.
“It might be a McDonald’s, but I’m not sure,” he replied.]
I finally ended up at the Home Depot location way up on North Lincoln, and managed to score a Wagyu steak dog ($8).
This stand is particularly hidden by the exit in a shadowy little alcove. And unlike the other Fixin’ Franks I visited, there’s no stools, so you have to eat in your car, or out on the curb in the parking lot.
My God, was this thing good.
Its natural casing had a fantastic snap to it, there was a strong smokiness present, and the savory quality of the hot dog was particularly front and center. It was worth the few hour search, and in this case, the novelty actually had some weight behind it. I brought the leftovers back to Davida, who independently proclaimed that it was an excellent hot dog.
Based off the difficulty I had in finding it, scoring one is not guaranteed, and only north side locations have them (and some northern suburbs, refer to the bottom of this Eater article). But if you happen to be hungry and you’re at Home Depot, it should be the first item you ask for before you order a regular hot dog, Polish, or beef.
If I had the chance to amend my Bon Appétit list, I can now say with confidence that I’d add the steak dog to it too. But the difficulty in snagging one is unfortunate, and part of me wonders if this is a temporary partnership rather than a permanent one.
And finally, getting the elotes ($3.50, prices might vary slightly) might not feel the same as ordering one from an elotero on the street, but that’s okay.
I’m just delighted you can get them at Home Depot. They’re not exactly my favorite version since the corn Fixin’ Frank uses doesn’t seem to have much flavor to it. But half the time it’s really about the excuse to eat a shitload of margarine, mayonnaise, and crumbled cotija anyway.
When it comes down to it, I don’t think there’s many things more Chicagoan than being able to buy hot dogs at Home Depot. That idea sort of captures the hardworking but practical spirit of Chicago, doesn’t it? Plus, let’s not forget, this concept is fun as shit.
Though I know other Home Depots across the states do have their own food stands, I can’t imagine there’s any version that’s quite as charming as Fixin’ Franks. Because there’s not a lot of scenarios in which the concept of the place is as important as the food it serves.
Fixin’ Franks
Various Locations
Hours vary (sorry, I know, this section’s somewhat useless today)
I’m going to need some extra help in the coming months. I don’t know if you’ve all heard, but Mr. Musk over at Twitter has strongly hindered the ability for Substack writers to share links on that platform (it appears to be for petty reasons). He’s historically been hostile to journalists and writers, but this is starting to get alarming.
I realize I just write about food. But his selfishness may end up costing me part of my actual living by throttling readership. And it doesn’t just affect me, it affects all writers on Substack. I believe his knee-jerk reactions will cost him somehow in the long run, but who’s to say?
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This doubles the amount of Party Cut editions you get, because every other one is for paid subscribers. That’s a lot of food. And yes, you retroactively get access to the past locked material via the web.
Housekeeping aside, thank you for being a reader. It means the world to me. Go grab a hot dog and have a wonderful week. Love you.