Dog Days in Tucson

01.08.07

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Writer Margy Rochlin travels frequently to Tucson from her home in L.A., visiting family and stuffing herself. Here's her latest find:

For the past several years, banners advertising Sonoran-style hot dogs have been popping up all over Tucson. Sometimes, the signs lead you to a cart, sometimes to an open-air restaurant, and sometimes to the shade of a small Bedouin-like tent. Tent, cart, or sit-down diner, there is only one rule when looking for the right Sonoran hot-dog place: Check the clientele. If you don't see lots of baseball-capped University of Arizona students and/or plenty of construction workers, leave immediately.

dog days

A proper Sonoran hot dog starts with a grilled, bacon-wrapped weenie that is tucked gently inside a soft bolillo bun. After that comes a thin layer of whole pinto beans, a few strands of grilled onions, and a sprinkling of chopped grilled chile. Finally, the cook whips out two squeeze bottles and draws parallel lines of mustard and mayonnaise down the length of the frank. I'm not suggesting that Sonoran hot dogs are good for you, but the combination of flavors—the sweetness of the steamed bun, the crunch of the bacon-wrapped dog, the heat of the chiles—is almost holy.

The last time I went by my favorite Sonoran hot-dog joint—El Guero Canelo—I panicked, driving past it twice without recognizing it. Then I gasped, for when I saw that a brick-and-mortar building was going up, I couldn't bear the thought of this little roadside stand getting fancy. Once I spotted a wisp of smoke coming from behind a stack of concrete blocks, though, I realized El Guero Canelo had simply relocated its cart behind the construction site—where it is, alas, building a real restaurant.

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