No dogging it

Fenway Franks are a popular - and serious - business

Vendors hustle to push their product at Fenway Park, where Aramark sells about 9,000 Fenway Franks a night. Max Meltzer, 3, savored a big, messy bite from a traditional ballpark treat. (Jim Davis/Globe Staff)

Simple and straightforward, the hot dog is perfect ballpark fare. It's filling, portable, and easy to cook. It can be dressed to suit any taste.

So why does Kevin Haggerty need spreadsheets to keep his hot dogs in line?

Because when you sell thousands of them a night, hot dogs are a whole different ballgame.

Haggerty is resident district manager for Aramark Corp. food services at Fenway Park. He oversees the sale of concessions within the stadium - which means he has to keep track of every bag of peanuts, bottle of soda, and ice cream cone.

And of course there are hot dogs, which involve a lot more than throwing them on the grill and sticking them in a bun.

The Red Sox may have broadened the menu in the past few years, but the Fenway Frank reigns supreme. Night after night, it remains the park's top seller.

"On an average night we sell about 9,000 Fenway Franks," said Haggerty.

But that number can vary for unexpected reasons. Sales are affected by the weather, the day of the week, and even the pitchers on the mound. If a pitcher is known to work slowly, "we'll keep grilling and steaming dogs for a while longer," he said.

Haggerty records data in his computer, so before each game, he'll take a look at comparable games in previous months or years to ensure the order size is accurate.

Even with the best bookkeeping, though, hot dogs can't sell themselves. That's up to the nearly 800 Aramark employees who work the stands, carts, and suites throughout the park. Competition for sales is heated, but friendly.

"You want the best dog in the house? It's sold right here," said one server at a stand near the entrance to Yawkey Way.

Equally competitive is the scene in the stands. Though vendors are not assigned specific sections, many veterans have staked out certain areas, which can make it challenging for a rookie to break in. No matter how senior they are, however, all vendors share the same burden: a heavy hot-dog bin.

Fully loaded, each bin fits 36 dogs, 36 buns, condiments, and tongs. Add a can of Sterno to keep things warm plus a belt for cash and change, and the average hawker is lugging around more than 40 pounds. Who's ready for nine innings' worth of stairs? To encourage these hardy hawkers (as well as other serving personnel), Aramark has established an incentive system, with awards of gift certificates.

The company also has to keep an eye on safety, after Fenway's food stands flunked city health inspections on more than a dozen measurements on opening day April 8. It wasn't until May 16 that the concession stands passed a health inspection.

As for the hot dogs themselves, most fans opt for the Fenway Frank, but there are three other varieties on sale at the old ball game: the Footlong, the Gourmet Dog, and the Monster Dog.

The Fenway Frank ($4.50) is an all-beef hot dog from Kahn's, steamed and topped with mustard, onion, and sweet pickle relish. It's served on a white bread bun. The Footlong ($5) is 12 inches of all-beef dog from Hebrew National, perched on a 10-inch bun.

Weighing in at a full half-pound and nearly a foot in length, the Monster Dog ($6.75) is much thicker than the other dogs at Fenway, closer to the bratwurst end of the encased meat spectrum.

You can order it with an ear of corn on the side. It won't lighten the calorie load, but at least you can tell mom you ate your veggies.

A more recent addition to Fenway's lineup is the Gourmet Dog ($5). Served on a poppy-seed roll, the all-beef dog has a natural casing that turns crispy when grilled.

"Customers want to try something more flavorful and upscale," said Haggerty.

Toward that end, Fenway allows discerning fans to skip the hot dog in favor of a turkey wrap, rotisserie chicken, or clam chowder from Legal Sea Foods.

But purists need not fear. Even in the lofty seats and suites, the humble hot dog claims its rightful place. "Guests in the private suites choose to order pans of hot dogs more than anything else," said Haggerty. "It's what people want when they come to a ballgame."