La Dolce VT: Big Lenny’s Hot Dogs

“That’ll never pass the white shirt test.”

I’m standing at the window of Big Lenny’s hot dog stand on Route 7 northbound out of town and I’ve just asked Lenny not to wrap up the kielbasa with homemade hot relish and mustard because I’ll eat it in the truck on the way back to the office, when the guy behind me in line pipes up.

Above, BTW, you’ll find photographic evidence the dog passed the test. Scarfing down loaded dogs is why God made stoplights. I’m not sure where on the scale a hot dog fits between, say, drunken driving and driving with a cell phone. Suffice to say, it’s not recommended.

But I was in a hurry to get back to the office so my volunteer taste testers could get to work on the rest of Lenny’s offerings: Meatball sub, sausage parm sub, chili dog and Italian sausage with peppers and onions. For a cart the size of my office, Lenny puts out an impressive array of choices … and those were just the specials.

Well, aside from the kielbasa. That was an impulse buy. My roots involve 12 years living in a city where Ukrainian was the second language and kielbasa (pronounced KOO-ba-sa there) still runs in my veins. I’m here to tell you that Lenny dishes up a good one, and his homemade relish is better than my Ma’s (please don’t send this column to Mom). His hot relish is spicier, for sure, a little sweet … world class.

The Italian parm sub and the Italian sausage were judged a little too salty, but otherwise the testers liked Lenny’s food.

It was the third stop on a two-day, four-shop binge of dogs. There’s something about sweltering heat that makes me want to go to little tin shacks by the side of roads and order food from people sweating harder than I am. The only other time I eat hot dogs is at ball games, which are still the best. Minor league games, anyway. Paying big-league prices for extruded meat byproducts and starchy filler in an (often) artificial casing takes all the fun out of the humble hot dog. It’s not supposed to cost as much as a sit-down meal or a round of golf.

As with any roadside vendor, be they selling cars or castanets, hot dog shacks are all about location, location, location. Judging by the traffic on the road — and stopped beside it — Lenny’s got location down pat. That’s the last stoplight out of town on Route 7 north.

At the other end of town, off of Cold River Road and Stratton Road, is Grumpy’s, in the spot where the Michigan Man’s stand was until his death over the winter.

The fact that two entrepreneurs have set up shop in such an apparently out-of-the-way spot is testament to the fact the AOT is blowing smoke when they say there’s no appreciable amount of cut-through traffic using that stretch of road to bypass Route 4 south. Hot dog vendors are among America’s finest businesspeople because they have to be. There’s not a lot of margin when you sell your top-of-the-line deluxe product for five and a half bucks. If there’s a hot dog stand at the side of a road summer after summer, there’s traffic on that road.

As befits a startup, Grumpy’s menu is a little leaner than Lenny’s: A short list of dogs, Italian sausage, nachos and ice cream, chips and sodas. What they have is good enough: My almost-all-volunteer tasting panel and I went through a dog, a footlong, a chili dog and an Italian sausage, with nary a murmur of complaint except that the buns are a little soft and the onion/pepper mix maybe a shade overcooked. The dogs are grilled by default, which got a thumbs-up. The pulled pork is good, but it’s on a hot dog bun. Because dogs tend to be a little dry, the bun is designed to soak up juice. With the pulled pork, it all gets a little soupy, unless, I’m reliably told, you can get it down in three bites or fewer, so it doesn’t have time.

Grumpy’s also has a bunch of big umbrellas at tables, so you could take the kids for a dog and a cone and relax in the shade, away from city streets. And I expect they’ll branch out a bit as they learn their regulars’ likes and dislikes. By all means it’s worth a stop if you’re driving by. And that’s the key to hot dog shacks and location: It’s the kind of meal you can stop in and grab a bite without planning on it, or between stops on a busy day.

We have a picture in the Herald archives of a snack shack that used to drive through neighborhoods, much like the ice cream truck still does, but you don’t see those anymore. Now, you drive to the hot-dog stand. Or peddle your bike, I suppose, although most of the health-conscious types on staff passed the chance to be a taster for this column. Nitrates, sodium, high blood pressure … I didn’t really follow much of what they were saying. I do recall one saying, “My wife would put me on brown rice and greens for a week if she caught me eating that stuff.” (If you could not pass this column on to my wife, either. I’ll hide the copy at the house. Thanks.)

The location for the third stand struck me as genius the first time I saw one: John’s Place, outside The Home Depot. I first ran across this combination in southern Maine when I lived there. It’s one of those chocolate-and-peanut butter, why-didn’t-I-think-of-that pairings that I just wish I had created. OK, so it’s not by the side of the road: It’s in a parking lot full of busy guys who might not have time to stop between job sites and whose trucks often don’t agree with drive-thru dimensions.

John’s Place is the anti-Lenny’s in a couple of other ways, besides location. Where Lenny rattles off his homemade condiments, John’s has a mind-boggling array of bottles of mostly spicy, all-store-bought sauces. John offers hamburgers as well, from a grill about the size of Lenny’s cart, and french fries. I start to sweat just thinking about it. Man, that’s gotta be a hot way to earn a living. The fries are really good, mind, and cooked to order. I stole a couple of the boss’s on the drive back from the stand. (Maybe don’t show the boss the column, either. Thanks.)

I didn’t get one of John’s dogs — four’s my limit over two days — although the taste tester on the dog and sauerkraut was most enthusiastic.

And for $6.25, a bratwurst with fries and a Coke is the best deal I found. (”Excellent,” says the taster, who as a sportswriter has eaten several dozen lives’ worth of hot dogs.)

But it’s still a hot dog: Meat in a tube, a bun, some stuff to slather over it, served from a steam table on wheels. That’s what was missing from the last place I tried. I got an “Oinker” from The Sandwich Shoppe downtown: two wieners and cheese on a hoagie roll. There was nothing wrong with the sandwich, at all. The roll was easily the best bread in 48 hours of nitrate-fuelled face-stuffing. And I could get a veggie burger there for the intern who rode shotgun on the first day, despite being a vegetarian. (Maybe we shouldn’t let my doctor see this column, either. Or the farm-fresh-foods folks down at the Farmers’ Market. Tell you what, let’s keep it between us, shall we?)

But as good as the Sandwich Shoppe dog was, it was from a building, and something about the roadside stands adds to the experience. So the Sandwich Shoppe gets a bye week on the square-peg, round-hole rule (Rule XXX (vi) Sec. 3 of the hot-dog stand reviewer’s book).

So, here’s the scorecard:

Grumpy’s (Cold River and Stratton roads): Good, straightforward dogs. Good Italian sausage. Still working on the extras, but give them time. I’d eat there again.

John’s Place (The Home Depot parking lot off of Route 4 East): Good, big dogs and brats. Burgers and fries, so covers all the major food groups. Bargain prices. I’d eat there again, probably the next time I buy lumber (shhh … wife … thanks).

Big Lenny’s (Route 7 North): Yeah, he’s my favorite. Good meat, good buns. Great homemade sauces; tops his dogs with a little patter, which doesn’t hurt, either. I’d eat that kielbasa three times a week. Pass on the parm from a shaker tin, though.

And this list is by no means comprehensive. I didn’t even hit every stand in Rutland City, but I’m starting to go into mild sodium shock, so I need to take a break. Please pitch in with your favorites.

Drop me a line at randal.smathers@rutlandherald.com or, better yet, go straight to the “Reader Review” section of invitevt.com under “Dining” and write your own.