Tom’s Coneys
One of the fathers of a baseball teammate of mine (the Forestdale
druggist Anthony Brooklere) was a hot dog fiend, and we went to all of
them. He would go on and on with his comparisons, and so I got
interested.
We were downtown a lot when I was a kid, and I went in
them all at one time or another (they used to be open until about 10 at
night, remember). Tom’s Coney’s was supposed to be the oldest (that’s
what the sign said), and as I said the place just reeked of sauerkraut,
but I thought the sauce a bit sweet at the time and something I had to
be in the mood for.
Now I’d kill for it. That was the thing - all the
sauces were different and satisfied different sets of taste buds. I
can really remember thinking that I wasn’t in the mood for Pete’s
Famous, and go to Gus’s instead because I was craving the sauce.
(written by Robert McCrary)
The first time my
father took me there I must have been around 8 or 9. It was built up to
me so much that I was sure it was a great honor to eat there. Dad loved
it because he burnt the hot dogs a little bit, and to this day it is
how I judge a good hot dog.
(written by Kevin Kilgore: “I thank you from the bottom of my all-beef heart!”)
