Best hot dog in America? It's right here in Newmarket Square.
At least according to the Wall Street Journal's Raymond Sokolov. It is, of course, Speed's -- the parking lot hot dog vendor located dangerously close to the Globe office. We coulda told them that! Here's the link, though I'm not sure it will work for nonsubscribers.
Here's an excerpt, if the above fails:
"There were superb contenders for the hot dog title in Los Angeles, New York, and especially Chicago. But it was in a parking lot in Boston that I found the hot dog in its highest form, the wiener with the wow factor, the frank of franks. ...
"In the present, there are essentially two alternate hot dog universes. There are the uncountable millions of indistinguishable hot dogs sold from carts or at nondescript stands and lunch counters and in supermarkets. And then there is the handful of what I'd like to call Top Dog purveyors. These are the special emporia where loyal customers line up for a fix.
"They each have special settings, special decor, a special style of service. None that I am aware of manufactures its own sausages, in the sense that a microbrewery makes beer on the premises from raw materials. Even these legendary Top Dogs rely on offsite sausage production for their franks. So their success -- and it is notably idiosyncratic in every case -- depends on value added at the point of sale, on good cooking, mood, location, garnish (buns, relish, potatoes, and the like).
"The most important of these factors is the cooking. And that is where Speed's of Boston triumphs. Speed's is located in Newmarket Square, which is not some historic New England green space on the model of the Boston Common, but a triangular parking lot surrounded by bleak wholesale food warehouses in the untrendy Roxbury area. It is not so much a restaurant as a kitchen in a vehicle.
"Speed himself is a quietly gregarious older man, said to have been a fast-talking DJ in the day, whence the nickname borne by Ezra Anderson. He is friendly and will leak his secret recipe to you with a conspiratorial half-wink.
"So how does he coax such wonderful flavor out of a commercial half-pound dog?
"Speed confides that he marinates the dog, supplied by a local company called Pearl, in apple cider and brown sugar. Then he grills it over charcoal. Actually, this octogenarian entrepreneur lets his young apprentices handle the dogs under his watchful eye. They also toast the buns.
"By legend, the piquant relish he supplies along with raw onions and beanless chili to pack into his split 8-inch Kosher-style sausages, is another Speed treasure made by the man himself.
"Lately, Speed has been threatening to retire. This long goodbye fits with Speed's legend for being a kind of fast-food will o' the wisp. He closes up during the winter months. His schedule and hours are unpredictable. Sometimes there are lines; sometimes not.
"Well, he was there for me, and his is the dog against which I now measure all others.
"You could also say that Speed's is an expression of New England: dour setting, cerebral ambiance, no frills. That is not an approach that would pack them in in Hollywood of a weekday afternoon. Instead, Tinseltown has Pink's, or to give the full name, Pink's Famous Chili Dogs. Pink's has been drawing patient crowds to Melrose and La Brea for almost 70 years, according to the pink brochure you can read while you wait in line."
