Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Half a story on half smokes

When I was a kid, we used to have a lot of extended family parties (grandparents, uncles & aunts, cousins, second cousins, aunts' step-siblings, people who'd lived next door for a long time, people who were in line behind one of us at the grocery store...the definition of family is a bit broad.) In the summer, we had cookouts: hamburgers, hot dogs, and half smokes. Graduating from hot dogs to half smokes was like moving from the kid table in the kitchen to the real dining room table on Thanksgiving, a rite of passage.

So what is a half smoke? It's like a hot dog, but bigger and spicier (and frankly, better. Um, no pun intended.) I assumed everyone knew half smokes until just recently, and I've found myself trying to define them by what they aren't...they are not Polish sausage, Italian sausage, or chorizo. They aren't those little cocktail weiners. They are, apparently, not universal.

I did a bit of web surfing and found this out: half smokes are the D.C. signature food. I saw several references to Ben's Chili Bowl, but as far as I know, you can pretty much get them at any hot dog cart. (You'd miss Ben's chili, but this is about the 'smokes. And I say as far as I know, because, honestly, it's been a while since I had lunch at a hot dog cart...I work in the suburbs, and if I'm eating downtown it's usually at a hotel for a conference: chicken, rice, and green beans almondine. Makes a half smoke damn appealing.) And since I've been leaning vegetarian, I admit I haven't looked at the processed meat section of the grocery store lately, but you used to find half smokes (mild or hot) right next to the hot dogs. They were even packaged in multipes of four like the buns, further evidence of their superiority.

So that's the deal with the half smokes...not much, really. Next up on local oddities: duckpin bowling.