Three friends embark on a quest to find West Ashley’s most outrageous Hot Dogs
by Lorne Chambers | Editor
Whether it’s fireworks or pool parties, beach trips or family cookouts, people across the country will celebrate our nation’s independence in different ways this month. Sure, we may squabble over politics or what patriotism really means in this day and age—but come July, one thing that can still bring us together: the humble hot dog, sizzling on every grill from sea to shining sea.
From the legendary Chicago dog piled high with pickles and peppers, to the classic “dirty water” dogs of New York City street carts, from the famed Dodger Dog out in L.A. to the bacon-wrapped Sonoran dogs of the American Southwest—and yes, even here in the Deep South, where we’ve been known to slather on chili, pimento cheese, and a scoop of coleslaw—hot dogs are the all-American unifier. We may still bicker over toppings (is ketchup blasphemy?), but that’s the American way. These spirited debates are what this country is all about. It’s liberty. It’s independence. It’s freedom on a bun.
In honor of this national culinary treasure, I decided to devote a large portion of the July issue of West Of Free Press to our local hot dog scene. Unless you’re Joey Chestnut or Kobayashi, it’s not humanly possible to try all of the hot dog offerings in West Ashley in a single afternoon. So instead, I set out in search of the most unique and outrageous weenies this side of the Ashley River. No disrespect to the traditional chili dog, but when creating this Glizzy Guide, I looked for unusual ingredients or preparations. I settled on a handful of dogs that were just a little outside the scope of your standard fare. And while I’ve been known to house a Costco dog while waiting to have my receipt scrutinized, for the sake of this article, I focused solely on locally-owned places and avoided national chains. Sorry, Sonic and Cookout fans.
To do this properly, I needed to assemble a dream team of taste testers to help me wade through the vast and unrelenting West Ashley Hot Dog Trail. I called on my good friend and former West Of contributor Katie Wells to assist me in this quest. Actually, it was Katie who suggested the whole thing. She has strong opinions on just about everything and is genuinely the biggest hot dog enthusiast I know. So, her expertise and evaluation skills would be invaluable along this journey.
Just last week, my wife (West Of Sales Manager Lindsey Chambers) and I ran a hot dog and snow cone stand for Katie’s daughter’s 5th birthday party. While at the party, Katie and I reflected on our last great hot dog adventure, which was exactly a year ago when we created the Folly Tour de Franks, where we sampled every hot dog on Folly Beach for The Folly Current (check it out here if you’re so inclined: www.follycurrent.com/2024/07/folly-tour-de-franks).
The “Folly Tour de Franks” was a blast, so we decided we were ready for a new challenge. The problem was, we were only a couple of days away from going to press and hadn’t even begun our research. Not to mention, Katie is a vice president at a giant global corporation in addition to being the mother of a very active 5-year-old. But in true Katie fashion, she answered the call and made room in her day to take on West Ashley’s wild and winding Hot Dog Trail.
But our team was not complete. Lindsey would tag along to take notes and snap photos, but she’s staunchly anti-hot dog. Our relationship has persevered despite this blatant personality flaw. So, I reached out to our good friend and world traveler, Rebecka Murga. With a truckload of unlaid sod sitting in her yard, Becka carved out some time to join in our mission to try the most outrageous hot dogs in West Ashley.
While a long-time resident of West Ashley, Becka is originally from Cleveland, a city that not only Rocks (according to Drew Carey) but has such a strong hot dog culture that it even has its own style of hot dog mustard known as Stadium Mustard (a mildly spicy brown mustard that’s more similar to European styles than American yellow or even our deli-style browns).
With our team assembled, we began our quest at a classic West Ashley joint, Stop #1: Ye Ole Fashioned Ice Cream & Sandwich Shop. There are two locations in West Ashley, and we chose the O.G. on the corner of Savannah Highway and Wesley Drive. Ye Ole Fashioned has been a West Ashley staple for more than 50 years and earned the lead-off stop on this trip because they’re the only place in West Ashley that offers a footlong hot dog. What a way to start the day. Go big or go home!
“The vibe of this place tells you there’s going to be a good hot dog on the menu,” Katie noted as soon as we walked in. She was right. Ye Ole Fashioned has several hot dog choices, ranging from the traditional to the outrageous. Of course, we went straight for the Super Dog “Loaded,” which the menu claimed was owner Rod Lapin’s favorite. It also claims to be the “World’s Messiest Dog,” which may very well be true.
“I’m excited about how messy it is, actually,” Katie said, declaring it was a “four napkin” dog.
The Super Dog came loaded with chili, red onion, and nacho cheese, or “liquid gold,” as Katie calls it. But that’s not all. This giant dog was piled high with sauerkraut, which made Becka super excited for the Super Dog. She admitted right off the bat, that sauerkraut was her favorite hot dog topping. Katie confessed that she had sauerkraut on a Brat before but never a hot dog.
“Kraut on a dog might just be my new thing,” she admitted after trying it. Becka gave an “I told you so” nod of approval.
We had all skipped breakfast, so we made short work of the footlong and within a matter of minutes, we were out of the air-conditioned ice cream shop and into the hot Charleston summer air, ready for Round 2.
“Strong start to the day,” Katie said, and we all agreed.
On the way to the next stop, we took our own trips down hot dog memory lane. For me, and maybe all of us, hot dogs have a wholesome value that always reminds me of family and simpler times. I think about my dad manning the grill while my mom, brother, and I sat on an old wooden picnic table that he had made, laughing, drinking iced tea, and enjoying a summer afternoon beside the pool.
Becka told us about going to baseball games as a kid or visiting Cleveland’s famed Westside Market and getting hot dogs—with Stadium Mustard and sauerkraut, of course— served on a “hard” roll (a Kaiser roll with a crusty exterior and chewy interior).
For Katie, most of her best hot dog memories occur on Folly Beach, either grilling them on her screened porch at her old rental house just off Center Street or late-night hot dog runs to Bert’s Market. “Every time I think about hot dogs, I think of Folly,” she said.
We didn’t have too long to reminisce before arriving at Stop #2: East Bay Deli on the southern edge of the Avondale Business District along Savannah Highway. The Friday lunch rush was in full swing as we worked our way up to the counter and ordered one hot dog, a bag of chips. and four waters. The cashier looked at the four of us slightly perplexed. We added an extra pickle spear so that we didn’t seem suspicious.
East Bay Deli has a small but mighty hot dog menu. Since we had just had a foot of sauerkraut, we passed on the Kraut Dog and opted for the Southern Dog, which comes with shredded cheddar cheese, a slightly sweet slaw, and is sprinkled generously with celery salt. Sadly, there are no true Chicago dogs on any menu in West Ashley, so this tiny nod to the iconic Windy City creation was what put this one on the map for me. While this tiny addition has a big impact on the flavor, the real star of this one was the hot dog itself. I cut it into three equal parts and we cheersed with our hot dogs. It had great snap and flavor. But what was the secret to this delicious dog? Well, East Bay Deli proudly serves actual Vienna Beef: Chicago Style Hot Dogs. Nicely done, EBD. Now, can someone get some sport peppers, poppyseed buns, and that weird neon green relish down here?
We left East Bay Deli and cut through the neighborhood, popping out on St. Andrew’s Boulevard en route to Stop #3: Hugh Baby’s BBQ & Burger Shop.
Besides the fact that hot dogs are delicious and possibly the perfect food, I love them because they’re loaded with nostalgia. They’re also loaded with nitrates, which I don’t love, but I am a sucker for nostalgia. And Hugh Baby’s has it by the bucketfuls. Just being inside this retro burger joint made me wistful for bygone days, which inevitably led me back to memories of family and the summers of my youth. Sniff, sniff. Was someone cutting onions in the kitchen because my eyes were getting watery? Sniff, sniff…
Nonetheless, I powered through and ordered the Pickwick Dog, which comes with grilled onions and jalapeños, yellow mustard, mayo, and Hugh-Baby’s BBQ Sauce. Becka and Katie were skeptical of this one, but as a fan of spicy food, I was excited to try it. We were already two dogs down and feeling bold at this point, so we added a side of chili cheese fries and a vanilla milkshake (Pop’s favorite).
I love Hugh Baby’s smashburgers so much that I’m embarrassed to say that I’d never ordered a hot dog here. Boy, had I been missing out! The creaminess of the mayo and the slight spiciness from the grilled peppers really played well together. Add a touch of sweetness from the nearly caramelized onions and BBQ sauce, the Pickwick Dog is a banger for sure. After just two bites, Becka and Katie were true believers.
“I was least looking forward to this one, but it surprised me!” Becka admitted.
Turning right out of Hugh Baby’s, I realized that we were already halfway through our journey. We crossed over Sam Rittenberg Boulevard and headed down Highway 61 until we arrived at Stop #4: Mason Jar by Fat Boys. Getting out of the truck, I started to regret the addition of the chili cheese fries and vanilla milkshake at the last stop. I had gotten arrogant, thinking this would be a breeze. But now, at Mason Jar, we faced our most formidable dog yet. The infamous Hog Dog is part BBQ sandwich and part hot dog. Stacked with smoky pulled pork, crispy bacon, and crunchy coleslaw, this dog is not messing around. It’s so big it’s served on a hoagie bun. It also comes with a side, which is a tough choice at Mason Jar because they have so many great options. The butterbeans were calling to us. We also decided to throw in an order of fried zucchini and squash. We figured having something green besides that extra pickle two stops ago wasn’t a bad idea.
This dog is not for the faint of heart. So, you’d better be hungry if you plan on tackling this one on your own. Luckily, my team and I split it up and put it down. Lindsey ate the butter beans and gave them an enthusiastic seal of approval.
“If you like bacon and pulled pork and hot dogs and you’re ready for an adventure in your mouth, come here,” Katie’s said. The cashier told us that a regular who orders the Hog Dog often, claims it is the ultimate hangover cure.
We lumbered toward the truck, moving noticeably slower than we had when we arrived. But we had a job to do, and there were more hot dogs in the future, so we pressed on. At this point, it was clear that none of us would be making it back to the office. So, we decided it was time for a beer.
We pulled into Stop #5 No Bull Burger Bar and bellied up to the bar. Similarly to Mason Jar’s “Hog Dog,” No Bull’s Sloppy Dog is like two classics in one. You get two griddled, all-beef hot dogs, with their signature chili mix, topped with creamy slaw, and served on a toasted brioche bun. But the chili is so bold with a touch of sweetness, it’s reminiscent of a Sloppy Joe. They serve two to an order and we got the sweet potato fries as our side. The dogs and fries were tasty and the beer was cold (thankfully, because the AC was out). At the end of our meal (our fifth so far, for those counting at home), we learned that No Bull would sadly be closing that location the following day. However, we were happy to learn that it would live on in some form or fashion on the side of their sister restaurant, Southern Roots Smokehouse, over on Savannah Highway. Our bartender wasn’t sure if the Sloppy Dog would be making the move, but one can only hope.
The afternoon sun was at its peak as we turned onto Bees Ferry Road and toward our sixth and final stop. We pulled into the West Ashley Place Shopping Center and rolled up to Stop #6: Southside 17 for a last dog of the day, feeling full but still wanting more. The Friday Happy Hour crowd was shuffling in, and we snagged a few empty seats at the bar. Becka and Katie grabbed some Deep Eddy Grapefruit Mules, Lindsey a margarita, and I ordered a draft beer. Our friendly bartender, Buffy, promptly brought our drinks, and we all took a breather and enjoyed our cold beverages before placing our sixth and final hot dog order of the day.
About a decade ago, West Of did a similar story, highlighting some of the more outrageous burgers in West Ashley. The one that still stands out to me after all that time is the Bellagio Burger at Southside 17. It’s truly one of the most decadent and delicious burgers you will ever eat—Kobe beef topped with caramelized onions, lettuce, and tomato, and finished with melted smoked gouda and a house-made portabella Newcastle mayo. So, I had a feeling that the Loaded Hot Dogs at Southside would be equally impressive. My intuition was correct. These beauties came out piled high with Chef Ty’s award-winning chili, drenched with hot queso blanco, and topped with sliced red onion and served on a buttered and griddled bun from Ashley Bakery just down the street. The dog itself was high quality and huge! Plus, you get two of them and a side, Buffy recommended the tater tots, which were delicious.
We were a little worried that by the last stop we would be too full to appreciate it. But, we couldn’t have been more wrong. This was the Bellagio Burger of hot dogs—indulgent yet thoughtful.
After completing our own personal West Ashley Hot Dog Crawl, Becka needed to go home to lay that sod that had been sitting in her yard all day. Katie, Lindsey, and I headed to Gene’s Haufbrau, thinking we might squeeze in one more bonus dog. But when we got there, Katie tapped out.
“I have dog tummy,” she declared. After a brief stop at Gene’s, we headed downtown to the RiverDogs game to meet our friend and former West Of ad rep, Nicole Tomer, and her husband, Courtney. The West Ahley couple runs Stop #7: Co Hog, one of the best food trucks in Charleston. You can often find them set up at The Garden by Charles Towne Fermentory in West Ashley (July 3 and 10). And while they’re best known for their delicious New England-inspired seafood dishes, like stuffed quahogs, clam chowder, and shrimp rolls, they also happen to sling one of the very best hot dogs in all of Charleston, topped with bacon-tomato jam, mustard, pimento cheese, and piri-piri spice.
As we recounted our day to Nicole and Courtney, recapping everything that we ate, I realized that this was the first time I’d ever been to a baseball game, and was not craving a hot dog. Perhaps, I also had a case of “dog tummy.”
Of course, that was short-lived because the next day I found myself feeling particularly nostalgic. I also felt like the Hot Dog Trail was not truly complete. So, I called up my dad, who now lives in Summerville and will turn 81 in a couple months, and invited him to lunch. My nephew, Nick, a recent USC grad who just started his first “real” job, picked him up, and the three of us headed to Stop #8: Gene’s Haufbrau.
Three generations of Chambers boys tucked into an old wooden booth at Charleston’s oldest continually operating bar. While I had truly loved all the creative variations I’d had the previous day with my friends, it also had me craving the classics—chili, cheese, onion, yellow mustard on a toasty bun. That’s my go-to. And Gene’s does it perfectly every time. We split two hot dogs three ways, along with some loaded fries and a couple of corndogs dipped in Gene’s homemade super-spicy honey mustard.
“I can’t believe I used to not like hot dogs,” Nick said, shaking his head. “These are really good.”
We left Gene’s, Dad and Nick went to the truck, and I walked next door to the office to check the mail.
As I climbed behind the wheel, I shot them a smile. “I hope you’re not too full because we have one more stop.” A few minutes later, we pulled into another West Ashley classic,
Stop #9 Bessinger’s BBQ.
While in the parking lot, my dad recalled that we’d been there years ago for Mother’s Day with my mom—something I had forgotten until he mentioned it.
Inside, I was happy to see Michael Bessinger and his oldest son, Ben, a Citadel football player who’s working at the family’s restaurant over the summer. A Charleston institution for 86 years, Bessinger’s BBQ is now under Michael’s stewardship following the passing of his father, Thomas Bessinger, just over a year ago.
It was the middle of the lunch rush and Michael and Ben were busy. But Michael took a moment to stop what he was doing to walk over and shake my father’s hand, introduce himself, and thank us for coming in. Then he turned to Ben, now a 250-pound defensive lineman for the Bulldogs, and pointed to the windows on the front door. “Go get the Windex and clean those.”
I stepped up to the counter. The couple in front of me was in from out of town and had never been. They asked the lady behind the counter what hash and was, I assured them it was delicious and promised to pay for it if they didn’t like it. I knew my money was safe, and their clean plates later proved it. I ordered our Hot Dog Basket “all the way” with an extra onion ring to take home to Lindsey. For the second time that day, the Chambers boys piled into an old wooden booth and split two hot dogs three ways. I love mustard on my dog, and since we were at Bessinger’s, I topped my part with their legendary Carolina gold sauce.
As I mopped up the last of the chili with a stray steak fry, Michael walked over and sat down at our table and told us about their hot dogs. For a place famous for its pulled pork, ribs, and hash, I learned that there’s a lot of love that goes into the classic hot dog at Bessinger’s BBQ. Michael told us how they butter-baste the all-beef dogs and then split them down the middle, and then griddle them on the flat top, searing them perfectly. Then they’re topped with chili that’s made personally by Michael and his wife, Faith. He again shook our hands and again thanked us for coming in.
We reminisced on the way home, telling Nick about long-ago summer days and grilled hot dogs when his father and I were just kids. Dad always took the extra charred ones. He said he preferred them that way, but I think he probably just wanted my mother, brother, and me to have the ones that weren’t burned.
Mom would cut a slice down the center—just like Bessinger’s—and tuck a piece of cheese in there. When we didn’t have the right buns (which was often), she would place them into diagonally-folded pieces of sliced, white bread and broil them until the cheese bubbled and the corners of the bread were a perfect golden brown. Mom loved a good hot dog. Hell, she loved a bad hot dog … if there’s even such a thing. To this day, I can’t help but think about her every time I bite into one. Maybe that’s the real reason I love hot dogs so much. Because above all else, that’s what a hot dog really is— it’s a memory.
