The Chi Wulff blog fires up some poncey, asian-themed excuse for a workingman's slaw dog, and frankly, the only reason I'm writing about it through the nausea is because he said something nice in there about some dumb blog.

The original gas-station slaw dog (in profile). 

Otherwise, this is a man writing about a slaw dog lacking cheap canned chili or fluorescent yellow mustard, so sensitive types, those with a functioning gastrointestinal system and small children are encouraged to look away:

Nonetheless She Who Must Be Obeyed shocked me yesterday when she said, in reply to my query about a Mother’s Day dinner this weekend, that she’d like some type of grilled artisanal hot dog.

She was, of course, probably speaking entirely in jest.

It was, of course, too late.

The moment she uttered the phrase 'hot dog' my mind was racing with images of nifty, uptown dogs from places we've visited over the years. Being a fly fishing foodie my mind then conjured up images of the mighty slaw dog.

You can see the whole sad recipe here.

I refuse to use anything named "daikon" on a slaw dog, but I am, however, stealing the phrase "grilled artisinal hot dog." It's going to make me rich.