It was 2:30am in Miami, and we had just left a nightclub with my brother and his fiancé. Knowing there was a 10-year-old sleeping soundly at his grandparent’s house who’d be up at the crack of dawn anxious to hit the beach, I was thankful to be heading home, despite the fact that at that hour there was STILL a line of young folk waiting to get into the place and BEGIN their evening. But it was at that moment that my baby brother turned to me in the car and said, “Do you mind if we stop to get a quick bite to eat? I’m hungry.” Now, I’m getting old, but I’m not THAT old that I don’t still remember what it was like to leave a bar late at night with a case of munchies and a need to soak up some alcohol, but I didn’t have to worry about being beach-bound by 10am back then, either. I reluctantly capitulated, but insisted that it be a REALLY quick bite.
In Jersey, the place to go after a night of drinking when I was younger was either a diner or White Castles, and the only thing I ever got at the diners was “Disco Fries” which were covered with melted, gooey cheese and came with a bowl of gravy to dip them in. But Miami isn’t much for diners, and even less for gravy. So after about 10 minutes in the car we pulled up to a place downtown called La Moon, which apparently specialized in something called Perros Colombianos (Columbian Hot Dogs). I didn’t bother to look at the menu since I knew I wanted to try whatever the specialty was, and honestly, any hot dog with a quail egg on top of it sounded too damned good to pass up. Thoughts of the ten-year old were quickly relinquished to the deepest recesses of my mind as I sat at the small metal table, licking my chops in anticipation of this meatfest.
I apologize for the piss-poor photo, but I had been taking photos during the evening and forgot to change the camera’s settings for shooting food. Well, it was that and the fact that I had taken a bite by this point, and all I could think clearly about was taking ANOTHER. Let me describe this bun full of heaven: One grilled hot dog, about 9” long, sits at the bottom. On top are slices of pan-fried chorizo and crumbled bits of bacon. All that diet food is smothered in melted cheese (I think mozzarella but couldn’t slow down enough to really tell) and the cheese, in turn, is covered with mounds of crunchy potato sticks. The texture is the perfect counterpoint to all the other goodies. All that is then drizzled with 4 different condiments, only 2 of which I recognized: ketchup and mayo. The third seemed like a mildly spicy cayenne-kissed cream, and the fourth (which runs straight across the top) was a sweeter, tropical-fruit tasting sauce. My only disappointment was that I was hoping the quail egg would maybe be fried, so I could break the yolk and let it run down everything, but it was hardboiled instead. Kind of a waste to add a quail egg that way, no?
White Castles—fuck off. Hamburger Deluxe—get bent. Even my highly esteemed disco fries can take a walk. THIS is the new face of drinking night’s aftermath. THIS is what all food served between the hours of 3 and 5am should aspire to. On your knees and bow, boys.
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
As an added benefit, the tubular shape of the hot dog also lends itself to comfort and efficiency on the way back up as well
Now, now, Coupe….I was nowhere near the point of inebriation…just pleasantly groovy. This puppy stayed in his doghouse, but for others, yeah, I can see your point.
dont i recognise that photo from ur camera :O)
After a long night of drinking and doing the tango with white boys, you just can’t put enough processed food in your gut. Makes me wonder what Paul Roberts from French Laundry would serve with this. Maybe a nice big, ice-filled, frosty cold glass of hot dog water. Man, what could be better than kissing a girl after this meal!
They had some great tropical fruit shakes (mango, papaya, etc.) but I was afraid to chase down the hot dog with one of those! I didn’t even bother to pair this fine meal with a beverage, truth be told…it had no equal partner.
I love this! I really love hot dogs. When I was visiting NYC when I first moved away,we went to the Met and there was a hot dog vendor (the only one,it was 8 degrees after all) outside.
Well it had been a while since I had a wonderful “dirty water frank” so I ordered one with mustard and onions.
As my newphew,his wife and a stunned vendo r all watched I proceeded to eat 5 in a row.
He said I made his day.
But, in fact, he made mine!
You must be my husband’s long-lost twin, Thom…I’m sure he could match your 5 dirty water dogs, although he prefers mustard and relish!! Nothing compares to the street vendors in NYC, though they aren’t all equally as good.
i need a second visit to usa there is a little list of food that i never completed… actually never started!!
a dunkin’ donut
a fast food burger
a new york street hot dog
a large pretzel
oh ur probably thinking omg why … and maybe so am i – the food i really had there last week was seriously delicious the japanese grill, the chinese, the canoli, the lamb, the italian meats and cheeses
think the main thing is though is that i want to come back to go to the bronx to that freash fish shop that had the most incredible mussels, clams, sea urchins and clams outside the shop. i would have loved to have gone in and bought stuff in there for one hell of a feast
Linsey, would that I could, I would send all of the above via FedEx, though I honestly prefer Krispy Kreme donuts to Dunkin’ Donuts…in fact, I make a bread pudding with stale Krispy Kreme glazed donuts that is a SIN! Fast food burgers forget. The NY dog and pretzel must be experienced IN New York, so you’ll have to come back…and I’ll be happy to escort you to the Bronx so we can have a seafood feast!
sounds like a great idea katie – if … WHEN i come back we will seriously have to do that – only do u know how do prepare crab – they looked great but i have no idea how to dress them properly lol
and excuse the spelling mistakes and crappy repetitions – would u believe i still have jetlag wahhhhhhhh!
Yeah if you can’t get to Ernie’s Chicken Shack on the east side (duh, where else?) of I-35 in Austintacious, this will probably suffice.