The hot dog is an icon and an important part of American culture. People don’t want it messed with. Two unfortunate souls in New Jersey (the hot dog capital of the world) learned this lesson the hard way. They tried to bring the “haute dog” concept here with predictable results. After much hype and fanfare plus glorious reviews by the biased liberal media, the place was struck by lightning! A sure sign from above and a warning to cease their foolishness. They did not listen, and as a result their business died a slow miserable death. The guys were never heard from again. It was so bad that the rats and pigeons wouldn’t even eat the left over scraps from the “haute dogs” that were in the dumpsters. Even rats and pigeons have standards!
Contrast this to Rutt’s Hut, an old school Jersey hot dog legend. You can’t even get across the parking lot without encountering pigeons who are so bold that they try to take bites of hot dogs from people who are walking to their cars. These pigeons are so brazen that they routinely shake down rats for lunch money.
Any faux “chef” would be appalled upon enetering this stronghold of American hot dogs. The decor hasn’t changed since 1928. The only toppings you can get on your dogs would be mustard and Rutt’s special relish. No kraut, no chili, no foie gras. If you ask, they not so politely tell you to go somewhere else. They stick to what made them a legend. Their loyal customers wouldn’t stand for any frivolous changes. By the way, their relish is like no other and goes perfectly with their deep fried dogs. Created by an old German gentleman rather than some fancy pants “haute” chef. None other than the bambino himself, Babe Ruth, used to eat at Rutt’s Hut.
While todays “haute” ballplayers perform on steroids and amphetamines, the Babe, a true American hero, did it on hot dogs and beer from Rutt’s Hut.