... hot dogs in my life
Sullivan's opened at Castle Island in South Boston the
second week in March. I went down the other day with two
friends to get a half-price hotdog. That's a traditional
opening week special. There was still a lot of snow on the
ground but we didn't care. My friend, Shirley, said "Isn't this
crazy to drive all the way to South Boston to save ninety-
five cents." But that's not the issue at all.
As anyone from Southie will tell you a hotdog from
Sullivan's is a coming of Spring tradition. And there's no
hotdog like Sulli's. Those of us from Revere will argue with
that but more on that later.
When we got to Sullivan's we were surprised to see all the
people who braved the snow for their first taste of Summer.
I got my usual mustard and relish, Shirley had hers loaded
with raw onions and Norma went along with me on the
mustard and relish. Shirley bought a side order of fried
onion rings which was enough for the three of us and in the
interest of our diets, we all drank diet cokes.
Sitting in the car eating got me thinking about all the times
and places where I've had hotdogs in my life. For instance,
when I was a kid in the fifties, we had hotdogs and beans
and brown bread for supper every Saturday night. So did
everyone else in our neighborhood. I think it was the
eleventh commandment on our Irish Catholic street.
During the summer when I got old enough to walk to the
beach with my friends, we would meet up with everyone in
front of Kelly's. We would splash on baby oil and iodine to
get a nice brown tone to our skin, about the color of a
toasted hotdog for those of us who were not Irish. At some
point in the afternoon we would walk across the street to
Kelly's and get a hotdog and a coke and go back and sit on
the seawall and eat lunch. To us, Kelly's had the best
hotdogs in the known world.
When I reached high school, I would take a ride to the
beach many evenings with my boyfriend. We would stop at
Kelly's for a hotdog, French fries with vinegar and a coke.
Then we would drive down to the other end of the beach
toward Point of Pines and eat our food and then watch the
submarine races. (The war was over, they had to do
something with the submarines.)
I still love hot dogs and have the expanding waistline to
prove it. But who cares?
May 1, 2015