Papa’s Basement 3-21-11-Sonic Premium Beef Hot Dogs for President

I know nothing of fine dining. If I open a menu and there’s an item over $30 on it, my eyes bug out like that Tex Avery wolf. Don’t misunderstand me: I’m a black belt in the art of gluttony, but when it comes to food, I’m a bit of a tightwad. You’re literally flushing money down the toilet.


Which is why fast food is my wheelhouse. Yes, eating a Maine lobster will certainly distract me from the Category 5 hurricane of underachievement that is my life, but the instant that hollowed out tail hits the plate, I’m feeling guilty about having spent so much. Fast food has the opposite effect: For under $5 bucks, I can devour enough dopamine-spiking carbohydrates to get my pulse racing faster than Michael Jackson’s the first time he saw those E-Trade talking baby commercials and commend myself on my ability to save coin, to boot.

So when I say that Sonic’s new Premium Beef Hot Dogs are life-altering, understand you are hearing these words from a mouth that knows what it’s talking about. I drove an hour to get my hand on these bad boys. An hour. Why did I drive that long, you ask? Because, for all of its conveniences, Washington, D.C. doesn’t have a goddamn Sonic within 60 miles of it. You have to drive all the way to Winchester, VA to savor the fruit (only metaphorical fruit, not the poisonous, real kind, thank Christ) of America’s drive-in. For those of you not native to the area, let me put it in terms everyone can understand: Winchester isn’t even the Shelbyville to D.C.’s Springfield. It’s the mother-loving Ogdenville. Yet they have a Sonic and we don’t. Life has a way of evening things out like that. Like how it bestowed upon me this amazing sense of humor but also burdened me with a penis so large that it can sometimes scare women. He giveth and He taketh.

If you’re lucky enough to not have to pull a Sir Edmund Hillary to get to a Sonic, the New York Dog gets my vote as the cream of the crop. It’s covered in a delicious spicy mustard and its bun is soft with a lot of give, meaning you can luge it down your trachea with minimal effort. The Chicago Dog was also fantastic, and possessed the most interesting taste of the bunch, though be warned that its dill pickle, relish, tomato slices, peppers and onions bring it uncomfortably close to having some sort of nutritional value. Sadly, the Chili Cheese Coney Dog tastes exactly like every other chili dog you’ve ever had in your life, which, combined with the mess factor, makes it a bad choice for in-car dining. I didn’t eat the All-American Dog because it seemed boring as Hell. That and I’d already eaten three hot dogs and wanted to preserve a shred of my human dignity.


At $1.99, the Sonic Premium Beef Hot Dogs are the immigrant laborers of the food world: Affordable, able to get the job done, and you’ll smell them in your car for days after you’ve welcomed them in it. I give them my highest marks. And for those of you who didn’t dick off enough at work already by reading this article, listen to this past weekend’s episode of my radio show where the tale of my trip to Winchester is discussed in far greater depth. (We also talk about the passing of Nate Dogg who, given this article’s content, almost sounds like a menu item.) I mean, God forbid you busy yourself with the tasks you’re paid an hourly wage to perform. Sloth.


Papa’s Basement 3-21-11 (Left-click this link to listen to this episode immediately. To download this episode, right-click this link and select “Save Link/Target As.”)

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Tagged as: Fast Food Connoisseur, Papa's Basement, Sonic.