On November 6, 2015, the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council (NHDSC) announced an official policy I do not relish.

“Limiting the hot dog’s significance by saying it’s ‘just a sandwich’ category is like calling the Dalai Lama’ just a guy. We, therefore, choose to take a cue from a great performer and declare our namesake be a “hot dog formerly known as a sandwich,” the former NHDSC President and ‘Queen of Wien,’ Janet Riley, said in her statement.

It is unclear if Ms. Riley is still going by her royal title, as her X (formerly Twitter) account (@queenofwien) has not shown activity hot dog related or otherwise since October 2023. 

She addressed the USDA’s guidance that the hot dog, as meat between bread, falls into the sandwich category, saying, “While we thank the USDA for their careful regulation and inspection of our products, regulatory brevity is not their strength. We hope our position offers Americas some clarity and peace of mind.”

The USDA is to brevity as Ms. Riley is to picking Twitter handles. It saddens me to think of the people who thought they had finally found their kink fix on the internet, only to find another mouthpiece for ‘Big Hot Dog.’ Furthermore, it isn’t shocking to see the NHDSC thumbing its nose at the rules and regulations of the federal department in charge of keeping our food products safe for consumption.

Sandwich, as defined by Merriam-Webster, when used as a noun: a. Two or more slices of bread or a split roll having a filling in between. b. One slice of bread covered with food. Or, as a verb, to make a place for —> often used with in or between. 

Those definitions should have been, and should be, enough. Unfortunately, NHDSC decided they were better equipped than both Merriam and Webster. The hubris is overwhelming. 

An argument could be made that the shape of the hot dog is the basis of its not fitting into the sandwich category. Anyone who has run out of hot dog buns knows the pain of what to do from here. Using two slices of bread is a non-starter as there is too much bread. Slicing up the hot dog into small, evenly sized pieces to be laid out with even distribution on the bread is too much work. After all, the one-handed convenience of the hot dog is a big part of its appeal. Who doesn’t love a one-handed sandwich, ya know? 

Sooner or later, we all end up with the same solution. We take a single slice of bread, roll it around the hot dog like a faux bun, and eat it with considerably less enjoyment. This is the only scenario where we yearn for more crust. Adults and kids, it doesn’t matter; we all wish for more crust. The butts of the loaf of bread plead for us to use them just this one time, yet we hear nothing. 

The shape argument would be solid if it weren’t for the fact we have been letting the hot dog’s Italian cousin, the meatball, squirt out the bottom of our meatball… sandwiches. That’s right; the meatball is the more diverse and delicious of the spherically shaped meats, so there is no issue with being known as part of the sandwich community. As a matter of fact, they saw ham, salami, and pepperoni making a scene in the sandwich community and said, “Hold my balls,” as they jumped in with a swagger. 

The argument could be made that the bun hinge takes it out of the sandwich category since it is not two pieces of bread as long as the hinge holds strong. Entertaining this notion, however, means we must mention the fast-food chain with the most locations in the United States: Subway. 

Anyone who was sandwich-eating age in the early otts or prior and went to Subway may remember the U-Gouge. The U-Gouge technique removed the top of the bread, leaving behind what looked like an oversized hot dog bun, which held in the sandwich ingredients more efficiently. Subway used this sandwich-cutting method for forty years before transitioning to the hinge-cut method.

According to Subway, a poll of their customers found that 97% preferred the hinge cut to the U-Gouge method. In no way am I trying to suggest that the NHDSC had anything to do with the results of this poll. However, I defy you to find a topic on which you could find a representative sample of Americans who agree so overwhelmingly on any subject. 

Is it possible the groundwork was laid a decade before the NHDSC’s controversial announcement? Did they want to see the hinge cut become standard, knowing the thin hinge of the bread would rarely stay intact over the entire time of sandwich consumption, resulting in separate pieces of bread so we would be conditioned to lay down and accept the outlandish claim that a hot dog served in a bun is not a sandwich?

There used to be a bar called Williams in the Uptown neighborhood of Minneapolis. They kept a hot dog cart inside the front door for late-night eats. One of their specialty hot dogs was a Reuben Dog. Many nights in my mid- to late twenties, the Reuben Dog saved my life. 

I told my friends I was going to the restroom one night at Williams. I waited until the right moment to make my break to the hot dog cart. I ordered a Reuben Dog, went out into the frigid night, and ate my Reuben Dog in the dark alley next to the bar. What happened between me and the Reuben Dog that night transcended eating; it was as close as I’ll get to a one-night stand in this lifetime. However, halfway through my… experience, the remaining half of my hot dog squirted out the end of the bun, landing on the snow and salt-covered ground. After a brief stare-down with the hot dog lying seductively on the ground, I decided it would not be prudent to observe the “five-second rule” and ate the remainder of what was left.

What was left?

Bread, corned beef, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, and thousand island dressing, otherwise known as a Reuben sandwich. 

The NHDSC’s haughtiness suggests that the mere act of adding a hot dog changes the classification of a classic and revered sandwich, such as the Reuben borders on criminal. 

Speaking of classic sandwiches, we must discuss the ultimate classic American sandwich: the hamburger. You know, the beef responsible for all the juice and cheese in the empty space on the platter next to the hot dogs at every barbecue you’ve ever been to in the United States. It’s the place where we all look with disappointment before we say, “I guess I’ll just have a hot dog.” 

This is the root of the NHDSC’s official policy. Barbecue after barbecue, cookout after cookout, hot dogs get left to cool to room temperature as hungry people scoop up the self-assured hamburger instead of the vain, self-conscious hot dogs. Eventually, those hot dogs are blanketed under a loose piece of plastic wrap and placed in the refrigerator as they await their journey to their final destination: the garbage. 

Being eternally second place is challenging. People often refer to second place as the first loser, so understandably, the NHDSC got frustrated.

The NHDSC should have declared loud and clear that a hot dog is, in fact, a sandwich—and not just any sandwich, but the most unique and versatile sandwich in the world. There is no end to the different ways a hot dog can be elevated into a delicious sandwich. It’s an unfortunate missed opportunity for the hot dog.

Claiming to be something it isn’t is like someone quitting their job and claiming they’re a writer. If we are honest, it comes off as sad and a bit desperate. 

As spring turns to summer and baseball season begins the opportunities to enjoy the classic American hot dog grow. I encourage you to take a stand. Do not let big hot dog influence how you classify the dish. Instead, whether ordering at a baseball game or making your choice at your Memorial Day barbecue, I encourage you to say proudly, “I’ll have a hot dog sandwich, please.”

Cheers.

Image by Racool_studio on Freepik