It should come as no surprise that there is yet another post about hot dogs. It's summer, hot dogs just make sense. With that in mind, I ventured on home to Massachusetts for a nice little vaca to my parents house (yes, grad school has resulted in me referring to being at my parents house for an extended period of time as a "vacation"). One of my very dear friends arrived home in America after a year of living in Abu Dhabi...where they don't eat hot dogs or any other form of pork for that matter. In celebration of Jenny being home, a bunch of us went to Fenway Park for a Sox game and obviously, a Fenway Frank, or 5. Jenny would not stop talking about how excited she was to eat a hot dog. Her excitement was contagious as my stomach began to rumble at the thought of a juicy salty Fenway Frank. Now, I do like hot dogs, but to me, there is no other place on earth where they taste as good as they do at Fenway. I got my 5 dollar hot dog and slathered it with mustard, ketchup, and relish. The anticipation was too much for me to handle, I will admit I took a few bites before I got back to my seat. Once I sat down I could enjoy my hot dog to its full potential. I tried to savor it but it was just too good. My hot dog was gone before the game even started. I couldn't stop myself from shoving the plump, juicy meat wrapped in a fresh s
oft bun into my face. As much a I enjoyed my Fenway Frank, I do not believe I enjoyed mine as much as Jenny enjoyed hers. I can't really blame her, as it was the first hot dog she has eaten in over a year which she actually ended up eating 3 that night. Oh Fenway, I love you and your franks. GO SOX!
No comments:
Post a Comment