In Search of the Hamdog
Folks, this week’s column is the beginning of a pilgrimage for me. I mean it, this week’s column is the beginning of a truly personal pilgrimage for me, one of truly deep meaning, one of truly great emotion, and I’m not going to rest until I truly achieve what I‘m about to lay out for y‘all in the next few paragraphs. Is that not a truly inspiring beginning for a column? Why, truly it is (okay, I‘ll stop). And, with that, let’s get right down to the nitty gritty. Those of you out there who read my stuff know that I love food. I’m a big eater, and I make no bones about it.
I don‘t wanna end up being one of those people that croaks one day and no one understands why. In my case, everyone will understand, and that‘s a good thing. They’ll know that it was due to my eating tons of Atomic Fireballs, Nu-Way hot dogs, Breyer’s butter pecan ice cream, Baby Ruths, Sweet Tarts, and other truly great stuff. Contrast that with a forty-five year old jogger who eats cauliflower and carrots every day, and suddenly collapses while sitting at his desk one morning. Gone, a healthy dead person cut down in the prime of his life.
No one understands situations like that, people can’t deal with it, so they‘ll talk about it forever. It’s sad, because no one can understand being both healthy and dead. At least everyone will be at peace when I go shake hands with the Grim Reaper. With all that having been said, I’ve discovered a new food that I know I‘m going to love. Something that I’ll have to make a special trip to go eat one day. And that something is located at a restaurant in Atlanta called Mulligan’s, and the food item in question is called a “hamdog.” And if y’all are wondering what a “hamdog” is: It’s a hot dog wrapped with a deep fried beef patty, then covered over with chili, cheese and onions, and served on a hoagie bun. That‘s not all, either, it’s then topped with a fried egg and served with a couple of big handfuls of fries. Doesn’t it sound great? A true culinary masterpiece, and, what’s more, it has all the major food groups in it. You get your poultry from the fried egg, your beef from the pattie, you get whatever the devil is in the hot dog, you get some essential grains from the hoagie roll, and some very much needed potato vitamins from the freedom fries.
A nutritional bonanza if there ever was. Man, I’m salivating just thinking about one, and I’ve got to have it. And, believe it or not, y’all can help me attain my goal of quaffing down a hamdog, and here’s how: Someone out there who’s reading this has got to have some kind of contact with Chandler Goff, the owner of Mulligan‘s. If one of y’all does, would you please let him know that I’m a big fan, and I’m very willing to make a deal with him regarding his hamdog? If he’ll just invite me up and slip me one, a freebie, then tell him that I’ll devote an entire column to doing a review of it. And not only will I review it for him, I’ll make it sound like the Elvis of foods, because I’m already quite sure that I’ll love a hamdog. I just need a good excuse to fight the traffic in order to go up to Atlanta to get one. So, if I can say that I’m going up there because the hamdog is going to be free and I’m supposed to do a future column about it, then the coast will be clear. The trip’ll be blessed, and I‘ll be on my way to Atlanta with a smile on my face. Life will have true meaning. Loyal readers, do your duty.
Find Chandler Goff for me. Lay a big line of crap on him about how bad I want one of those hamdogs. If one of y’all can pull it off, I swear that I’ll go up there, eat one, and then write a column about it to let y’all know how it was. And what happens if y’all don’t find him for me? Well, if that‘s how this works out, then I’m going to do a future column about why Tiny Tim was a musical genius. I swear it on my BTO CDs. The choice, as they say, is y’alls. ZZZZZZ .