ediblemanhattan.com, August 2022
By Julia Sexton
When I wrote this digital companion piece to our print cover story on Korean Hot Dogs, I was amazed that both Time Out and Eater had done hot dog round ups that skipped this weird dog—which, I found out later, is a favorite of Danny Bowein's.
Every June, some vibe oracle declares this year’s warm months to be the summer of X. Now I’m no Delphic type, but it’s looking like Summer 2022 is the Summer of the Hot Dog.
Hear me out. In March, Time Out did a hot dog round-up, and in June, Eater rolled out its list of “28 Standout, Snappy Dogs Around NYC.” Soon after, Eater broke the news that the beloved, 90-year old Papaya King’s last standing outlet was in danger of being closed. (In short, it’s all true—if you want one final snappy, juicy Papaya dog, hop on back of the weepy last-licks-line). Our own Summer issue revealed that we’ve been obsessed with Korean corn dogs, and we felt so seen when the mighty Lizzo recorded herself tucking into these massive, battered Korean weenies on a stick. Full disclosure, a direct causal connection between these last two phenomena has yet to be found.
But there is a hot dog that both Eater and Time Out missed, a snappy dog so layered and texture-filled that it should surely stand on the podium with the greats—Papaya King, Crif, PDT, Katz’s—but no one seems to have noticed. This mysterious dog is the Swedish hot dog sold by Lenny’s Swedish Hot Dogs, a cart that operates on Sundays outside the Manhattan location of its sister-business, Bon Bon, A Swedish Candy Co.
The beauty of the humble hot dog is that it has been interpreted by so many cultures. There’s the trending Korean corn dog, Peruvian salchipapas, the Amsterdam Stoner Dog (topped with pizza toppings), the Argentine Choripán, and flower-shaped Taiwanese pastries with hot dogs tucked in. The Scandinavian dog served at Lenny’s Swedish is in the same vein as the famed Icelandic dog, but instead of lamb sausage, these long, skinny pork/beef dogs are made right in NYC by Schaller & Weber. They have a distinctive snap that Lenny’s founder, Leonard Schaltz, considers most like what he ate growing up outside of Stockholm.
“And then when you when you grow up and start going out to clubs, you go to the hotdog man after a night of binge drinking.”
What makes the Lenny’s Swedish dog so compelling are the Scandi-specific toppings that include Jonney’s mustard, a noticeably sweet condiment with a hint of coriander and cinnamon. It’s not like either French or American mustards—it is a thing of its own. Then there is your choice of a creamy remoulade (Schaltz has been using an imported packaged version) or shrimp salad (also imported packaged). Either makes the dog incredibly rich and creamy, and might be overkill, but for the gentle acidity of house-made cucumber pickles. Finally, the whole thing is doused with a shower of fried onions (also packaged) that have the distinctive crunch of crushed potato chips—but these are oniony. The result is a layered treat, snappy dog enriched by sweet and lush condiments, pleasantly offset by acidity and crunch in the toppings.
Schaltz shared a memory of what hot dogs meant in Sweden. “We had, you know, our local candy shop. I mean, it was like the corner store where the dads would go and gamble on the weekends, bet on soccer and horses and stuff. And then that store would also have this huge pick-and-mix candy aisle.” Like at Bon Bon, the candy store hot dogs were a side gig. “They would have the hot dogs sort of connected to it. So it's not as culturally strong as the Swedish tradition of Saturday candy, which is like, really a Saturday thing, but I would say the hot dogs were kind of a lead-in to fun weekend activities. You know, you're allowed eat a little bit more unhealthily on the weekend.” Schaltz laughs, “And then when you when you grow up and start going out to clubs, you go to the hotdog man after a night of binge drinking.”
Find Lenny’s Swedish Hot Dogs on Sundays outside BonBon—A Swedish Candy Co., 130 Allen St., Manhattan.
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