You folks out there in Earthquake Land are most definitely deprived.
On the other hand, the very first -- and without a doubt very best and most wonderful -- chili dog I ever had was in Santa Paula. I was a police officer there, and one day I stopped to get a soda at this stand, As I got out of the cruiser I saw a guy wearing a hard hat get this thing that turned out to be a footlong hot dog topped with chili. I'd never even heard of such a thing before -- a foot long hot dog, or a hot dog with chili on it.
I could not resist and I ordered one. I can remember even today that it cost 50 cents, and that was back in the '50s. That chili dog was magnificent. None of the sauce-like stuff people are always putting on hot dogs and calling chili, or coney sauce, or anything like that. This was chili. Real, honest to God chili. It was thick with meat, spicy, and smokey with cumin. And no beans at all, of course.
Had this chili been served to me in a bowl I'd have thought I'd somehow entered a warp and was back in a favorite chili parlor on Congress Avenue in Austin, Texas. And when the woman serving asked if I'd like some chopped onions to go on it I knew immediately that I was not locked in a warp, I was not in Texas; I was in Heaven.
Now that was a chili dog.
And you complain about not having good stuff in California. Hmph!
