Tag Archives: Corn Dog

Ranking the Ridiculous Food Items That Might Be Added to the 2017 Menu of the West Michigan Whitecaps Class A Baseball Team

“We will let you choose what gives you your next heart attack.”

~The Western Michigan Whitecaps’ Food Director

whitecaps

We’ve talked about Minor League Baseball before—specifically, how the menus at Minor League Baseball stadiums tend to be what you might call “eccentric” if you weren’t allowed to use the term “batshit fucking insane what, really, WHAT!?” among polite company.  It makes sense—there’s not necessarily a lot of star power in most minor league games, so owners try to bring in fans with fun gimmicks, which can include wrapping a cheese filled bratwurst with sausage, then bacon, and frying the fucker.  That wasn’t just us making up some random over the top example, that fucking exists.

Which brings us to the Western Michigan Whitecaps, a Single-A affiliate of the Detroit Tigers who play, and stay with us because this is confusing, at the Fifth Third Ballpark in the Grand Rapids suburb of Comstock Park.  Yes, we know, our heads hurt too.  Anyway, they take the tradition of “let’s serve crazy shit to fans” to the next level, and since 2009 they have provided fans with a series of food options that they can vote for, with the winner being sold in the stadium for the next season.

Now if you plan on voting, you can do so here, but you don’t want to make this decision uninformed.  So we’re going to go through each potential menu item, giving you a systematic breakdown of each insane item, before telling you what the best option is.  Ready?  Here we go!

Ranking the Ridiculous Food Items That Might Be Added to the 2017 Menu of the West Michigan Whitecaps Class A Baseball Team

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The Craziest Hot Dogs in Professional Baseball (Major League Edition)

“Take me out to the barf game, take me out to the puke!”

~Your obnoxious seven-year-old nephew who, you have to admit, probably has a bright parody career ahead of him

messy hot dog

America invented most of the world’s best sports.  Football?  That was us.  Basketball?  Sure, it was by a Canadian, but only because he was being paid by the Springfield, Massachusetts YMCA when he came up with it, because Canadian dollars were still printed on tree bark at the time, and we were responsible for all the changes that make it recognizable as a sport today.  Soccer?  Nice try, not a real sport, next question.

But of all the excuses for young men (and women!) to vent out the aggression of youth in a competitive and potentially humiliating environment that has been birthed within these borders, only one sport is iconic enough to be known as our national pastime.  No, not Mixed Martial Arts, that’s a terrible guess, are you high right now?  We’re talking about baseball of course.

You might view baseball as a relic of a simpler age, when men were men, owners were horrific bigots, and amphetamines were just, everywhere, all the time, which would explain why the sport struggles in some markets to maintain its relevancy.  It’s a slow-moving game trying to make its way in a fast-paced world, and say what you will about heart palpitations but taking the majority of the workforce off of Speed in the 80’s didn’t really do much for the pace of the game.  Major League Baseball teams try to combat the issues implicit with asking some 40,000 Americans to sit very still for three or four hours by making a day at the ball game a full entertainment and gastronomical experience.  This involves a gallons of watered down beer and, more recently, absurd, amazing American culinary disasterpieces for us to shove in our faces and slink into our chairs to ride out our food coma contently watching yet another 1-2-3 inning.

Sure, we could go on about crazy nachos served in miniature baseball hats, or giant cups of frozen sugar (okay, so maybe malt cups aren’t exactly a new development) but let’s be real here.  This is America’s sport, we’re going to need to talk about America’s food.  America’s best, most absurdly adaptable, most occasionally unnecessarily expensive food.  Let’s get to it.

The Craziest Hot Dogs in Professional Baseball (Major League Edition)

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Wherein AFFotD Scoffs at the Attempts of British Tabloids to Critique America’s Culinary Practices

“Guys, we need to be better.  We need to do better.  We should have jumped on these limey bastards the moment this garbage was published!  I know it was around the Fourth of the July, and I know we spent the next three months blackout drunk, NO EXCUSES!”

~AFFotD Editor-in-Chief, Johnny Roosevelt

 union jack

Listen here, faithful readers.  When we started this website, we had one very important goal—find a way to get free alcohol sent us to while breaking a few financial laws by listing ourselves as a tax-exempt non-profit.  But once you make a name for yourself, and it’s all, “Oh, Johnny Roosevelt, start a newsletter” this and “you know the internet is a thing now, people need to hear from you” that, and we have to deal with mission statements and being sober enough to press a button that says “Publish.”  It’s all very hard work, and we blame our Editor-in-Chief—we wouldn’t even exist today if he hadn’t stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.

watergate johnny roosevelt

Um, if anyone asks, we were, uh…doing some undercover investigations.  Yeah.  That’s it.

We mention this because, lately, we’ve been focusing a lot on “this alcohol is crazy” or “woahhh easy there, M&M flavors!” but we’ve been ignoring one of our founding principles.  Making fun of foreigners.  And in these increasingly divisive times, shouldn’t we be focusing less on what makes all of us different, and focusing more on making fun of what makes people in like, goddamn Europe different?  Have you ever seen lederhosen?  Ridiculous!

And while we were examining our past with an eye fixed firmly on the future (read as—a night where you sorta end up in one of those melancholy drunk moods) we stumbled across this little article from the British tabloid/reason-for-hundreds-of-lies-your-facebook-feed-has-told-you, Metro.  The article in question?

metro title

Oh you cheeky buggers.  Wait, no, that’s the quaint British way of saying what we really think.  Let’s Americanize up our reaction to this article just a tad.

You motherfucking sons of cockrashes.

There we go.  That’s much better.  Anyway, it’s been a while, so time to take apart this argument, one by one.  Because, Jesus, if we wanted to take food advice from the Brits, we don’t have a way to finish that analogy because no one in the history of cuisine, since the dawn of man where we as a species realized that cooking food makes it less likely to carry disease, has anyone ever wanted to take food advice from the Brits.

gordon fucking ramsey

Well, sure, okay, but yelling doesn’t count as advice.

Anyway, let’s take this article to pieces.

Wherein AFFotD Scoffs at the Attempts of British Tabloids to Critique America’s Culinary Practices

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Regional Hot Dog Styles Of America: Part 1

“We will eat enough hot dogs that our blood type will become ‘Nitrates’ and then we will eat some more.”

~AFFotD Official Credo

chicago flag

Recently, we at AFFotD painstakingly researched over 25 different long rolled sandwiches in America over the course of 11,000 words and four articles.  We learned a lot during that delicious (though at times, excruciating) journey—mainly that it takes most wives and husbands about four hours of listening to a writer drunkenly talk about sub sandwiches before they take the kids and go spend a week at their parents’ place.  While it’s all well and good to spend your time writing about submarine sandwiches and Italian beefs, when you try to list every type of sandwich in existence you end up scrapping the bottom of the internet to find anything at all that explains why “sarney” is in the dictionary as a type of sandwich, or why whiskey doesn’t always chase the demons away.  After we ran ourselves ragged trying to write about every sandwich, we were pleased with our results, but swore an oath that we would never again take on such a daunting, impossible task.  Unfortunately, we then celebrated the publication of the series by getting really drunk again and thinking of another article suggestion, and since we were hungry, we decided to talk about every kind of regional hot dog in America.

God…goddamn it.  We just will never learn.

Anyway, it’s time to delve into the magical tube of nitrates that is the hot dog in all of its wondrous (and occasionally not-so-wondrous) incarnations.   Hold onto your hats, America, here’s another multi-part, nation-sprawling series on unhealthy foods.

Regional Hot Dog Styles Of America: Part 1 of 4

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