OKI DOG

Hi guys! This weekend I found myself in Los Angeles again, for one day, and we stopped at the most charming little hot dog place before leaving for the airport to go to Lake Tahoe for a Yoga/Music Festival. Let me get back to talking about these hot dogs.

Actually before that, I can try to give you a little background on this place. Scheid and Chris Duffy breifly mentioned before we got here that this aparently had been a really hot spot for rowdy drunks to go to after attending punk and hardcore shows at nearby clubs. It was common catchphrase at some point after a rowdy show to say “see ya at oki dog’s”.

After some mild googling, I learned that the “oki dog” was invented by an Okinawan, named Sakai “Jimmy” Sueyoshi, who moved to America in the 70s, and eventually opened up a hot dog stand to make a dollar. It was open late and located near Hollywood nightclubs and featured a signature dish: a burrito filled with 2 hotdogs, pastrami, and chili cheese. This is exactly what you want when you are sweaty and wasted, right? He is so smart. You can read more about the history here.

Anyway, we went on a hot afternoon, for most of us including me, this was my first meal of the day, so it was a little intimidating. I love this menu so hard, because everything about it rules.

I went for the Oki Dog with a Pepsi, one of the more intense breakfasts I’ve ever had. The Oki Dog seriously looked at me in the face with its hotdog EYES and laughed at me with its pastrami LIPS as I bit into it. I looked at it back straight in its eyes, and it still intimidated me. I felt fear for one of the few times in my life at the fact that my food was looking back at me, staring me down like a champion heavyweight contender, and winning. It beat me, too. I only made it halfway through. I left with my head hanging down, defeated. I’ll be back for a rematch next chance I get.

Oh, and for one more dollar, you can get french fries comparable in quality and quantity to the ones from the Dirty O in Pittsburgh. Except krispier.

I liked this sign on the wall telling you what is in an Oki Dog. PS, you’re eating 3 variations of meat at once. Check out MUST tard. And the smily faces. And the creative spelling. And the penmanship of this sign totally belongs to someone who is constantly saying “Fuck Yeah!!” to himself in his head :

I realized in no other city do I enjoy hot dogs more than I do in Los Angeles. Not a nathan’s hot dog, a papaya dog, a hot dog from Steve’s in Cleveland, a coney from Skyline in Cincinatti, compare to these LA street dogs. The night before going to Oki Dog’s, before going to bed, I had a very sinful eating experience. I wandered around looking for snack around 230 am and saw a lady selling delicious hotdogs from a little push cart very similar to the ones I had outside of The Smell last year. These big dogs are grilled, wrapped in bacon, topped with grilled peppers and onions, and ketchup, mustard and MAYO!! I thanked her graciously and brought it back to my hotel room and ate it in bed.