Scroll down a bit and the obvious will smack you in the face like the snap of a genu-iiiine, split-n-grilled, hawt diggity dawwwg – I was impressed with Super Duper Weenie.
Put the pedal to the metal and cruised without incident from DC to Connecticut, not even a hint of a back-up at the George Washington Bridge. Lunchtime on the interstate usually means cutting a fast-food deal (the promise of a plastic toy gets my boy every time) and I go for it too, happily and hungrily absorbed by the brightly approaching promise of vacation. This time I could not wrap my mind’s appetite around MacDonald’s, but Teddy’s focus stayed true, so we pulled in. Teddy came bouncing back, Happy Meal swinging, while I called ahead for directions to Super Duper Weenie.
.
Just a brief piece up 95 and one turn off the ramp, Super Duper came into view and set our hearts a-thump with anticipation.
The dogs are split lengthwise pre-grilling. One of these days someone is going to package pre-split dogs. Super-surface dogs.
Instinct pinched me. “Order The New Englander,” it whispered. Instinct has never betrayed me.
He ate again. What a coup for his knee-jerk-anti-fast food mother. French fries and a chocolate milkshake. Top of the food pyramid, yes?
“Our own” means shop-made. Lots of personality in the fixin’s and NO bottled complacency. These are what I call high-wire hot dogs, where anything could happen. A superlative lunch encounter.
The Lunch Encounter 
Love Teddy’s t-shirt! With a shirt like that only a Super Duper Weenie will satisfy.
Gotta love Bucky. He is so cute!
sigh.
the hot dog and how i love it so.
From Blithe, She-Does-Her-Best-to-Suit-Herself Correspondent Cynthia:
” told Jon just the other day that I was going to open a hot dog place named “Frank’s”.
Not too original, but it is a nice dream.”