More on food as the medium for benign connection between human being and human being- It is my last night in the apartment. Not my first apartment in Chicago, but my first in ten years. The movers are to arrive at ten in the morning and I hadn’t started packing yet. I wanted to make sure I mailed all my tax forms to my street attorney in Key West before they were irretrievably lost in the chaos of packing. That was my first priority. I also had to pay the movers in cash, and needed an ATM visit as well. I got in my car to do the chores. Food crept into my mind, and I maneuvered to the highway. I needed superfood for energy: I wanted two Superdawgs. After I ate my Superdawgs, I felt a rush. I cranked up the radio and revved the engine. While driving to jams, I texted my sister, “Hot dogs and classic rock- Doing things.” I texted Etta, “Got a hot dog high.” She texted back, “Careful little cat.”
That was in the early evening. It is now the middle of the night, and I’m eating a green apple. In reflecting on my Superdawgs, and in the grip of procrastination, I read the following story on the Superdawg website and started crying: “We visited your location on Devon and Milwaukee Ave yesterday (5/30/05). Joined with me were my husband and two boys. This was a special visit for me since I had not been here in over 15 years!!!! My father passed away Memorial Day weekend in ’93. I have fond memories of him taking me to the cubs games, chicago museums and the scenic routes of Sheridan Road. We always stopped on the way home in Arl Hts to Superdawg for a special meal to take home. When he had passed away, and I moved further north near Wisconsin, I didn’t visit. Boy, I made a mistake! THere has been NO other location who serves up Dogs and Burgers like you do!!!! Yesterday it was my father’s 12 year anniversary since his death and I along with my family went to go visit him and then take the scenic route on Sheridan to visit his parents in Calvary Cemetary in Evanston. On the way back up we decided to go and visit a fond memory of mine to Superdawg so my husband and my two boys could experience the Superdawg taste!!! As soon as I took a bite out of my hotdog, those memories came back!! Nothing has changed!!! That is a good thing!! It’s perfect!!! I had a chocolate malt and boy was it good!! Just like how it was back then!!! I want to thank You for the fun and bringing me back to my childhood!!! Not many places stay the same or end up closing but I hope the next time I am out that way, it will still be there!!!! If it weren’t for your pure beef heart, your success wouldn’t have brought you where you are today!! My boys loved their hot dogs too and we plan on making frequent stops now!!! They are only 6 and 4 years of age but I am sure they will grow up with Superdawg!!!”
I used to go for hotdogs with my grandmother, Happy. Sometimes she would take me for a hotdog even if I was at her house because I was out “sick” from school. We would drive the three miles from her house by East Hartford High School to Augie’s on Silver Lane. It was my favorite treat. Food is tied to memory. Restaurants may reveal the ugly sides of human nature but the work has meaning. Food not only touches the tongue and absorbs in the stomach but sometimes, once in a while, plucks the mystic chords of memory that join us to our parents, grandparents, and ancestors, who may be gone, whose food paths we still follow.