San Doggy Dog

[May 1st, 2002] GENTLE READERS,
Miss Dish gets lots of mail from readers. They love to tell her about their favorite places to eat. And Miss Dish relishes such information.

A recent email from a gent pitched the finer attributes of SanDog's Fabulous Franks and Succulent Sausage , a cart plunked down at Northwest 21st Avenue and Kearney Street from 11 am to 3 pm Monday through Friday. The fervent emailer spoke of Sandig Wedin's dogs as if they were manna. "Instead of steaming her wares, as most carts and restaurants do, Sandig steams and then tongs the dogs over to a cast-iron grill, finishing them with a sizzle as she deftly adds incisions of about three-eighths of an inch to both sides," he wrote. Whew! Miss Dish immediately thought (1) This guy wants in Ms. Sandig's pants. (2) This guy is in Ms. Sandig's pants. (3) Ms. Sandig really knows how to lay 'em out on the roll. The only way to find out was to visit.

The cart, brightly swathed in French's mustard yellow, is parked underneath the awning in front of Gina's catering, across the way from Serratto. Unlike the stereotypical sausage pusher, Sandig isn't a gruff, heyhowyadoin' kind of lady. The smiley 48-year-old has a voice as high and cooing as Betty Boop. Miss Dish asked her what her relationship is to the saliva-inducing emailer, and she grinned and said, "That's my husband. He's my greatest fan." Ah-ha. So now it would be up to Miss Dish to determine how well Sandig filled a bun. Miss D. first noted that the cart serves Zenner franks and sausages exclusively. This is a good sign. Zenner is a local producer of high-quality dogs and has been around since 1927. I asked for the cart's specialty, and she cooked me up The SanDog, a ballsy six-ounce German sausage on a hoagie roll. This cost Miss Dish $4; for an extra $1 you can add chips and a soda. True to what was described in the email, Sandig wrestled the dog onto the grill with the agility of the Rock. After toasting the roll, she handed Miss Dish a bin filled with little plastic cups of condiments. After dumping on some kraut and grated Tillamook cheddar, the dog got a squirt or two of what they call SanDog Sauce (a dressed up Tabasco-ish puddle of love made with red-wine vinegar and pickled-beet brine).

Married to Sandig or not, Miss Dish's email buddy was right when he said she makes a good dog. Now Miss Dish can't wait to get back and try the other stuff on the menu. Hot dogs on a stick! And Tillamook cheddar franks! And chicken, basil and sun-dried-tomato sausages! When Miss Dish was chatting up Sandig, one of the managers of Caffe Mingo came over for lunch; he's a regular. Miss Dish might become one, too.