Crif Dogs

Here's the deal: the guy who runs Crif Dogs on St. Mark's Place is from Northern Jersey, so his hot dog papers are in order (read: he deep-fries the dogs). Holy cow, are they in order. Crif Dogs are making by far the meanest dogs this side of Rutt's Hut. In some quarters they are whispering the blasphemous (sshhhh) that, for instance (ssshhhh), the spicy redneck may even be better than a ripper at Rutt's .

Okay, the "Spicy Redneck." Let's discuss. First, this dog was voted as "Best Hot Dog in America" by the readers of Maxim magazine. I know, I know. The readers of Maxim might not be the definitive arbiters, but, boy, did they ever point things in the right direction. This dog is smokin'!! The spicy redneck is a bacon-wrapped dog with chili, jalapenos, and cole slaw. Without putting too fine a point on it--it is fucking delicious.

Crif's is located on St. Marks Place, between 1st Ave and Ave A. The place has a feel to it. First, it is downstairs, in a brick-walled cellar of a space. Second, the smell of dogs-a-fryin infuses the air. Third, there is a phone booth at Crif's that does double duty: as welcome atmosphere during the day, and as Superman-like transformational experience at night (the thing actually serves as entrance to the nightclub next door).

And the menu is chock-a-block with super-cool combinations for topping your fried dog. Take for example the "Jon Jon Deragon," a dog with a schmeer of cream cheese, scallions, and everything bagel seeds. Or the "Morning Jersey," a Taylor Ham wrapped dog with melted cheese and a fried egg (for those of you who have never strolled a Jersey boardwalk--Taylor Ham is the extremely disgusting, unfortunately delicious, lunch meat that they grill and put on sandwiches that are too unhealthy, too beyond the pale in general, to contemplate).

How delicious does the "Morning Jersey" sound? I, of course, have never tried it because I can't get past the "Spicy Redneck." My only decision is how many to have, or when to order my second (third?). I've tried the fries and the rings, but I don't think I will anymore cause they can't really compete for stomach space. I have split a chili burger with Barnaby, along with two SRs each, but that's about it.

It seems to me that Crif's has made it into the funky tour guides of the world. I'm always sitting next to some punk-attired German tourists, or a couple of funky gay kids from Sweden. They don't know that what they are eating stands in the great dog pantheon, that a newcomer only gets blessed once in a great while.

Do you get the drift? Crif Dogs has entered the firmament! Come one, come all. Enter.