Tonight, we stopped by DogTown on the way home from a fundraiser for an amazing local dance company, at which we ate almost nothing. Why?
Well, we got there late to begin with and then went to the wrong building. So, we stood in a line for about 15 minutes trying to figure out why we needed to sign in to a fundraiser ... and why we didn't recognize anyone. Then, I stepped slightly out of line and noticed a sign, "Celebrating the union of Pam and Jim" (not their real names). I looked at my husband and whispered, "We're going." "We're bailing because we have to stand in a line?" he responded confusedly. "Just walk!" I yell/whispered. Outside, I pointed at a second building, and all became clear. Anyway ... when we finally got to the right place, the speaking portion of the program was in full effect, and noisily grabbing plates to pile with food to then gobble down while pretending to listen seemed a bit rude. So, we just actually listened. Then, we chatted with lots of people we did recognize. Then, the eating window of the program suddenly slammed shut. Ah, well. About three hours later, nothing sounded better than a hot dog!
DogTown has a college-town, hipster vibe, with lots of pictures of customers' dogs on the wall, lots of tattoos, multicolored hair, and hats on the staff, and lots of dogs named after dogs. While there, I heard one young man say to his friend incredulously, "You have ketchup in your house!?" much as I might say, "You have a pony in your bathroom!?" A group of young men at another table were pooling their change to buy a beer. Ah, college life.
I ordered a Cincinnati Red Dogs with fries; it came with a giant pickle, too, and was served on a French roll. The dog was yummy, just what I needed. Nicely grilled with a mild chili sauce paired with crispy fries. My husband ordered the cheddar ale soup (he's not a big night eater anymore, that fell away in college; not for me!). It was tasty, though thin, with homemade toasted croutons on top. Nicely warming.