Beefing up the hot dog

The possibilities of the classic American burger having been if not exhausted, certainly exhaustively explored (I give you the excessive foie gras-laden Whiskey King eight-ouncer, adorned with maple bourbon glazed cipollini, Rogue bleu cheese, and applewood bacon now playing at Village Whiskey, priced at $24), it should not be all that startling that the town's trendier kitchens would eventually reach down a link on the food chain and grab hold of the hot dog - the innocent, unaffected Eliza Doolittle of our street foods.

It would not be illogical to have presumed that the everyday dog - these days, at least - would be enjoying a boom, its cheap and easy reputation appreciated anew in hardened times. But who woulda thought a counterintuitive trend would emerge - stagier, haute dogs, and at far steeper ($9 per) and un-franklike prices.

We shall more closely examine two of these wonders of the nouveau wiener world - the house-made, 100 percent pork-shoulder "Supper Dog," debuting at Supper's new lunch service (yes, that's lunch at Supper); and the all-beef showboat, crowned with homemade chips, pickles, horseradish, and kraut at Daniel Stern's MidAtlantic, the West Philadelphia homage to Pennsylvania's heartland fare.

Philadelphia, of course, has never had quite the intimate bond with the hot dog that New York has. It tends toward pizza and good-bread hoagies, cheesesteaks, and Italian roast pork with sharp provolone and broccoli rabe.

One big-time local hot dog maker, Dietz & Watson, is currently celebrating its 70th year on Tacony Avenue. Another, Hatfield, provides decent dogs at Citizens Bank Park (though they can end up wrapped in miserable steamy, foil shrouds by the late innings).

Still, hereabouts it's the Polish kielbasa smokers (Czerw's, Swiacki's and Krakus) in working-class Port Richmond, and the Italian sausage makers (the venerable Fiorella Bros. and the game-sausage master, Sonny D'Angelo) that have passionate followings in the city.

The best of the true German hot dog makers tend to be smaller-time and farther flung: Ilg's in Chalfont and Rieker's Meats in Fox Chase, which cranks out beautifully seasoned, authentic German wursts and wieners.