The above sentiments are true, unless you live in New York. Because if you live in New York, you will enjoy a hot dog. You haven't eaten a hot dog in years? Man up. You're a vegetarian? Today you're not. New Yorkers are serious about their hot dogs and even a hot dog hater like me understands why.
The first time my husband took me to Papaya King I was less than impressed. He practically shoved the dog down my throat and looked on in anticipation wondering if I would be as in love with these things as he is. It was 2am and I had just come from a Kanye West concert. I had been sitting just a few rows behind Kim K and Kris Jenner. I was distracted. I wasn't quite ready for the goodness.
But the last few times he's suggested Papaya King as an option for lunch or a snack, I have happily obliged. Never mind that a few hours after I eat it I feel pretty sick. Papaya King makes a mean dog. It's not too big, it's cooked to perfection, and the mustard obviously has some type of narcotic in it. Then, just when you think you're too full to be productive for the rest of the day, you have to gulp down the papaya juice for which they are equally famous. My husband claims it's one of the healthiest juices you can consume. That's fine. He could have probably told me the juice would instantly put 5lbs on me and I would still drool over it. Damn you New York City and your crack food.
The good news is that I don't work anywhere near 86th st, so I don't have to walk past it every day. The bad news is I do posses a memory of hot dog goodness that is going to insist that I indulge at least once a month. The worst news? I haven't even tried their worthy competitor, Gray's Papaya, yet. And I obviously have to figure out for myself which place is better. Obviously.
#crackfood #fml
