Although I’m not a huge hot dog fan, I occasionally get a craving that just won’t let up. One afternoon as we drove past the cool vintage sign for Superdawg, a fire was lit in my belly and an image of a hot dog was etched into the craving side of my brain in glowing neon. But it was several days before the opportunity arose for me to satisfy that craving.
As we pulled up to park at the restaurant, I noticed the glowing retro menu at the passenger side. So Superdawg wasn’t just a diner, but a true old fashioned drive-in. Supercool! I hadn’t been to a drive-in restaurant since I was a kid. We parked and I rolled down the passenger side window to read the menu.
The array of choices was dazzling. Not only did they have Superdawgs but they also had: Whoopskidawgs, Whooperburgers, Superchickenmidgees, Supertamales, Superonionchips, Supermalts, and Supersundaes! The selection was a mind spinner, but what made my taste buds really stand at attention was a good ol’ fashioned hot dog with mustard. (In this town, I’m told ketchup on hot dogs happens about as often as peanut butter on eggs.)
I pressed the service button on the Order-Matic to request a Superdawg with fries and a Coke. Ten minutes later, a cheerful carhop fastened a full tray to the driver’s side window.
Marilyn passed me a drink and a cardboard box that, when opened, was stuffed full of ridged fries and, of course, a hot dog. I dove in, and before my wife could ask how it tasted, it was gone. “That was super!” I said. “But without pickles or onions, it’s not a REAL Chicago dog,” she quipped. “I wanted a Superdawg, not a superpickle,” I told her.
What could she say to that? The answer, my friends, is not much. And with that we flipped the tray pick-up switch on the Order-Matic and were on our way.