There’s a formula we deploy, in our heads at least, whenever we feed our kids something that isn’t exactly homemade, DALS-approved, crafted by the kindly elves who affix those green-and-white organic labels to everything — or, more to the point, good for them. Think of it as the The Tranformative (and Self-Justifying) Law of Retroactive Nutritiousness.
____________ + Side of Broccoli = Healthy Enough.
Convenient, right? Go ahead, and fill in that blank. Mac and cheese. Panko-encased shrimp tempura from T Joe’s. Grilled (yellow American) cheese and bacon. Strawberry jam sandwich on soft white bread. See how good that feels? How strangely virtuous? Do you see how the broccoli, by some metaphysical trick, just erases guilt? As Abby would say, it’s very magic! I often hear laws of science described by smart people as “immutable” and I’m never sure what that means, exactly, but I’m pretty sure this broccoli law is immutable, too. There’s danger in it, of course, and it should be applied with moderation, but it does make us feel a little better — or maybe a little less guilty — about ourselves when we, say, fry up an entire package of hot dogs in butter and serve them on toast with ketchup.
The Hot Dog Sandwich
I feel silly even doing a recipe for this, but there are a couple of key points I want to hit before you try this and blow your own minds. One, I use Hebrew National (two per sandwich) because I honestly don’t think you can do much better. (Cue emails from readers who make their own hot dogs from heritage pigs!) Two, you have to slice the hot dogs lengthwise and fry with a decent-size pat of butter, until the ends curl up slightly and the flat sides are beginning to brown. Three, the white bread or roll must be toasted and slathered with plenty of ketchup and a drizzle of mustard. I’m usually an only-mustard-with-my-hot-dog guy, but not when it comes to the hot dog sandwich. Not sure why this is, but it just is.