Countless Celebrities Have Loved This Iconic Rhode Island Diner For Decades

  

Rhode Islanders know good food and, in some cases, they’re responsible for that good food. Like New York Systems, also commonly known as hot wieners, a hot dog topped with meat sauce, onions, mustard, and celery sauce. You’ll find a few places that grill some downright delicious hot wieners, a scrumptious Rhode Island invention. However, this iconic Rhode Island diner has been drawing locals and celebrities since the 1930s.

With locations in Providence and Cranston, Olneyville New York System bills itself as serving the best hot wieners in Rhode Island. However, you’ll really want to judge for yourself by sinking your teeth into one of their New York Systems.

 

One bite into a classic hot wiener, and, well, you might think you’re in paradise. You’ll certainly understand why this diner in Rhode Island has gotten plenty of attention over the years and from some pretty big names.

 

It should come as little surprise, then, that this Rhode Island original has attracted such famous chefs as Guy Fieri and Alton Brown.

 

Some beloved sports figures, including former New England Patriots star Rob Gronkowski, have also stopped by for a famous hot wiener.

 

Whether you’re craving a snack or a meal, you’ll quickly find a hot wiener fits the bill. How many will you order? One or two? Maybe more?

 

While a hot wiener is sure to fill you up, it always pairs well with such classic sides as fries, chili cheese fries, cheese fries, and onion rings. Or how about an order of sweet potato fries?

 

Olneyville New York System is famous for its hot wieners, but that’s not all it serves. You’ll also find other favorites – cheeseburgers, BLTs, and grilled cheese – on the menu, too.

 

If you ever find yourself craving a New York System but can’t get to Providence or Cranston, Olneyville New York System’s got you covered. Stock up on wieners and wiener sauce on your next visit.

Behold the Hot Wiener, Rhode Island’s All-American Classic

 

Don’t you dare call this Providence staple a hot dog.

By

Brian Yaeger (and photos)

Joey Chestnut will attempt to eat 77 mustardless, water-drenched hot dogs this Independence Day, but for the truly patriotic, nothing beats heading to one of the 13 original colonies, Rhode Island, for a few well-appointed hot wieners.

You’d think the name alone would make these meaty morsels a nationally renowned dish, but hot wieners remain the realm of Providence. Don’t you dare call them hot dogs or chili dogs, especially not to Greg Stevens’s face.

Stevens is the great-grandson of Anthony Stevens, who with his son Nicholas founded New York Systems in 1946 (now officially named Olneyville New York Systems) after moving to Providence from New York City. The iconic fourth-generation eatery—which received the James Beard Foundation America’s Classics Award—is actually the second-oldest of the Providence-based “New York Systems” restaurants, but is probably the city’s best-known, even ahead of Baba’s Original New York Systems, established in 1927. It’s a staple for locals and a destination for visitors, but remains largely off the radar of everyone who doesn’t live in, or find themselves in, the nation’s smallest state.

What is a Rhode Island hot wiener?

A wiener is a blend of beef, pork, and veal in natural casing. Visually, the only distinction you’d observe between these wieners and a hot dog is that the wiener is sliced from an even longer, cylindrical, carnal rope with a sheer terminus rather than its own individual tube with rounded ends. Picture a flat circle versus a tapered, semi-sphere at each end. But what really makes it distinctly Rhode Islandish is ordering one “all the way.”

“All the way” means the wiener comes dressed with diced yellow onions, yellow mustard, celery salt (like they use in Chicago), and the real pièce de resistance is the special meat sauce simmered for two and a half hours before being ladled on top. Not chili. Not Bolognese. The unfortunately named “wiener sauce.” A thin ground-beef condiment that, at Olneyville, Stevens personally blends himself with five spices he does not divulge.

“If I get hit by a bus today, we have to close, because I’m the only one who knows how to make it,” Stevens says.

Here’s one-fifth of a hint: it’s got chili powder in it. And Olneyville goes through so much that Stevens buys the chili powder alone in 500-pound increments. The only other Stevens at this Rhode Island landmark is Greg’s sister, Stephanie, but even she allegedly doesn’t know the recipe.

There used to be multiple “New York Systems” as a result of Greek families moving out of New York City and up to Providence. This was the Stevens family path, beginning when Anthony Stevens emigrated in the 1920s, two decades before transplanting to Rhode Island. There’s a Zee’s Wiener System in Austin, Texas that bills itself as “Rhode Island hot wieners” and rightly took it as an affront when, earlier this year, Austin Monthly named it the foodie city’s best “hot dog.”

As for why “Systems” stuck, that’s a little less clear. (According to Greg Stevens’s Uncle Ernie, “No one gives a…”) It’s believed to be the Greek immigrants’ homage to the first American city that took them all in, having initially arrived at Ellis Island among millions of other new arrivals.

Everyone needs a reasonably priced meal to feed their families, and Stevens says that the price of a hot wiener had always been in sync with the cost of gas (pointing out that in 1975, gas was half a buck while a wiener was 35 cents). But while we’re all grousing about gas topping $5 per gallon in 2022, a hot wiener’s currently selling for only $2.99 (if you’re really cash-strapped, a lettuce and tomato sandwich runs $1.20), making it seem as vintage as the yellow and orange formica tables at Olneyville that date back to 1954.

Olneyville New York Systems is open 24 hours a day and does brisk business around 3 a.m. when the bars close. The dive doesn’t serve any alcohol, but customers are allowed to BYO.

That said, perhaps the ideal way to wash down this Rhode Island delicacy is with the official Rhode Island state drink, coffee milk (think chocolate milk but with coffee syrup, which is readily available in every grocery store statewide). And a few wieners are best accompanied by a large plate of fries, especially when ordered as “beef stew.” As the quotes indicate, there’s no actual stew, nor does it contain a scrap of beef. It’s a plate of French fries pre-loaded with ketchup, cider vinegar, salt, and pepper, ordered more as a verb: “I’d also like some fries and can you beef stew that?”

Somewhat ironically, the wiener jockeys are more than happy to put ketchup on your fries, but they just might show you the door if you request any ketchup on your hot wieners.

Grapenut Pudding

A New England diner favorite, grapenut pudding is a classic sweet treat. Top with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream for the best results.

Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

• 1 cup Grapenuts cereal
• Scant 1/2 cup sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1 quart milk, scalded
• 1 tablespoon vanilla
• Pinch of cinnamon or cardamom or both
• Nutmeg
• Dash of salt

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Pour scalded milk over cereal and let sit 5 minutes.

Beat eggs, sugar, salt, cinnamon or cardamon and vanilla. Add to milk and Grapenuts.

Pour into a greased 2-quart casserole dish. Sprinkle very generously with nutmeg.

Set in a pan of hot water and bake until a knife inserted 1 inch from the center comes out clean which is usually 45 minutes or longer.

5 Reasons Why the Lobster Dinner Is Better Than the Lobster Roll

Seafood expert Mike Urban firmly believes that eating a whole lobster dinner beats a lobster roll any day of the week. Here’s why.

Mike Urban

I’ve been on the New England seafood trail intensively for the past seven summers, and I’ve had more wonderful gustatory experiences than anyone can reasonably expect in a lifetime. It recently occurred to me that with the continuing surge in popularity of lobster rolls, the experience of devouring a whole boiled or steamed lobster in its shell is being eclipsed and often overlooked. This is not as it should be. I firmly believe that eating a whole lobster dinner beats a lobster roll any day of the week. Want to know why? Read on.

Whole lobsters are fresher than lobster rolls.

A boiled or steamed lobster is as fresh as lobster gets. The trip from pot to plate usually takes a matter of minutes, allowing very little time for the lobster meat to age. By contrast, the meat in your lobster roll may be “fresh-picked,” but chances are it’s been out of the shell (which had sealed in its flavor) for hours and perhaps days.

It’s more fun to eat a whole lobster.

Dismantling a whole lobster and extracting the sweet, salty meat can be a lot of work, but it’s also a lot of fun — if you are persistent and have the right attitude. You need to square off against your crimson foe, remove and crack the claws, wrestle out the tail meat, extract the knuckle meat with your pinky or a poker, coax out sweet bits of lobster from the legs using your teeth, and nibble on the tomalley, roe, and any other innards that may appeal to you. It’s messy, but with a bib, claw crackers, a poker, and plenty of napkins, you’re in for a great feast with family and friends.

There’s no bun.

Much as I like buttered, toasted, split-top New England buns, let’s face it: The bread gets in the way. Lobster is meant to be gorged upon, not nibbled around the edges, as is the case with a neatly packaged lobster roll. Roll up your sleeves and dig in for the entire whole-lobster experience!

The side dishes are better.

A lobster roll typically comes with a bag of chips, perhaps a pickle, and not much else. With a whole lobster, corn on the cob, salt potatoes, chowder, steamers, and coleslaw are de rigueur — all part of the lobster dinner experience.

The butter is the bomb.

Dipping big chunks of steaming hot lobster meat into small plastic containers of warm, melted butter (which often runs down your chin) is a transcendent experience.

All this is not to say that I don’t enjoy a good lobster roll. I’ve had hundreds of them, and nearly every one has put a smile on my face. But what really sends me into orbit is a freshly cooked, bright red lobster with all the trimmings in a sunny New England seaside spot in the middle of summer. Viva the lobster dinner!

Strawberry Rhubarb Coffee Cake

Returning to the garden to remake a favorite family recipe for strawberry rhubarb coffee cake.

Yankee Magazine

Made with buttermilk, brown sugar, and fresh fruit, this strawberry rhubarb coffee cake recipe is an early summer family favorite.

Note: You can find freeze-dried strawberries in the dried fruit or natural foods aisle of your grocery store. If they are unavailable, you can substitute regular strawberries, sliced lengthwise.

Total Time: 1 hour, 20 minutes

Hands-On Time: 30 minutes

Yield: 8 servings

For the topping:

Ingredients

•           2/3 cup granulated sugar

•           1 3/4 tablespoons salted butter, melted

Instructions

Preheat oven to 330° and set a rack to the middle position. Butter and flour a 9-inch springform pan.

Make the topping: In a small bowl, stir together the sugar and butter until crumbly. Set aside.

For the cake:

Ingredients

•           Butter for the pan

•           1 cup buttermilk

•           1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

•           1 large egg

•           1 teaspoon vanilla extract

•           2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan

•           2/3 cup vegetable oil

•           3/4 teaspoon table salt

•           1 teaspoon baking soda

•           1 teaspoon baking powder

•           1 1/3 cups rhubarb (1/2-inch slices), from 3–4 stalks, depending on size

•           3/4 cup chopped strawberries

•           Strawberry slices (either fresh or, for extra crunch, freeze-dried), for garnish

Instructions

Make the cake: In a medium bowl, stir together the buttermilk, sugar, egg, and vanilla until smooth. In the bowl of a standing mixer, combine the flour, oil, and salt; mix on low until crumbly (scraping down the sides of the bowl once). Add the buttermilk mixture to the flour mixture and beat on medium until smooth. Add the baking soda and baking powder, and beat for several seconds. Fold in the rhubarb and strawberries by hand. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and sprinkle evenly with the sugar topping.

Bake the cake until a tester inserted into the center comes out clean, 50 to 60 minutes. Just before serving, arrange the strawberry slices in a circle on top, with a few in the center. Serve warm or at room temperature.  

Crispy Homemade Clam Cakes

These homemade clam cakes are light, crisp, stuffed with clams, and never greasy. The perfect clam cake recipe!

Amy Traverso •

For many of us, it just isn’t summer without a batch of clam cakes fresh from the fryer. We love this recipe because it turns out terrifically crisp homemade clam cakes that are fluffy and stuffed with clams, but not greasy. The trick is using mostly baking soda as the leavening, which is activated by the lemon juice in the recipe.

Total Time: 50 minutes

Hands-On Time: 50 minutes

Yield: 30 clam cakes

Ingredients

•           Vegetable oil for frying

•           2 cups chopped clams, with juices

•           1/2 cup milk

•           1 large egg, beaten

•           2 tablespoons salted butter, melted

•           2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

•           1 tablespoon baking soda

•           1 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt

•           1/4 teaspoon baking powder

•           1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

•           2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Instructions

Set a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat and add vegetable oil to a depth of 3 inches. Bring oil to 375° (or as close as you can).

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the clams with their juices, milk, egg and butter.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, baking powder, and pepper. Add the clam mixture to the dry ingredients along with the lemon juice and stir just until combined (do not overmix).

Drop batter into the oil by the heaping tablespoon (we use a medium cookie dough scoop). Work in batches so as not to crowd the pan, adjusting heat as necessary to maintain the temperature.

Fry until clam cakes are nicely browned and cooked through, 4 to 6 minutes total. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with paper towels to cool. Repeat with remaining batter. Serve warm, with lemon wedges on the side.

How to Make Rhode Island Jonnycakes

A Rhode Island classic, jonnycakes (or johnnycakes) are thick or thin cornmeal pancakes depending on what part of the Ocean State you're in.

Aimee Tucker

In 2010 Yankee celebrated its 75th anniversary with a special issue that included “How New England Are You?” (a roundup of 75 New England “musts” compiled by senior editor Ian Aldrich), and one thing on the list was what Ian referred to as “Debate the Cakes.” I’ll share it in his words here:

Rhode Islanders have come to blows over jonnycakes for any number of reasons–over how they originated (Indians vs. settlers), over how to spell the name (journey-cake vs. Johnny cake vs. Jonny cake vs. johnnycake vs. jonnycake), over which kind of corn to grind for jonnycake meal (whitecap flint vs. white dent), and even over how to grind that corn (hot and round vs. flat and cool). Of course the most heated arguments occur over the “correct” way to make them: Debates about the merits of South County (West Bay)-style (thick, made with boiling water) vs. Newport County (East Bay)-style (thin, made with cold milk) have even reached the Rhode Island legislature. It’s enough to work up a healthy appetite.

Suffice it to say this is a dish nobody can entirely agree on, even in Rhode Island, so as a New Hampshire and Massachusetts girl, I knew I would need to at least head south to learn more. I had put together a list of stone-ground cornmeal resources in New England for a recent story on northern cornbread (“Cornbread Love“), so I knew which grist mill I most wanted to visit — the Samuel E. Perry Grist Mill (formerly Carpenter’s Grist Mill) in Perryville (part of South Kingstown), Rhode Island. It’s the only working water-powered mill left in the state, and has been in continuous operation since it was built in 1703.

So on a recent visit to nearby Westerly, Rhode Island, I took a detour on the way home to check it out.

They weren’t grinding on the day I was in town, but the charming little red mill was worth a look, and a fine example of the kind of architectural scenery we love so much in New England.

Nearby in Wakefield (another village in South Kingstown) mill operators Bob and Diane Smith welcomed me into their home for a hands-on South County Rhode Island jonnycakes demonstration. The couple have been manning the Perry mill and managing orders since the mid-1980’s, and are rightly proud of their small-batch operation — the only one in the state to use all Rhode Island grown and ground corn, so the only one allowed to label it “jonnycake” without the “h” according to Rhode Island law. What a treat for me to learn from the pros!

Remember, in the great thick vs. thin debate, South County, where the Perry mill is located, favors a thicker jonnycake made by pouring boiling water over a blend of cornmeal (or “jonnycake meal”), sugar, and salt. A little milk thins the batter to your desired consistency, and then, it’s time for the hot griddle.

Diane says the batter should be sturdy but thin enough to easily slip off a spoon (think buttery mashed potatoes), and the griddle should be hot with an even coating of bacon grease or corn oil. Like all good cooks, she advises you to trust your eye and instinct to tell you when the consistency is just right.

After 5 or 6 minutes, the jonnycake bottoms are crisp and brown. Give them a flip and let the other side catch up.

Hot and crisp with a slightly chewy center, the jonnycakes tasted better than I expected. Slightly nutty and with a pleasantly coarse texture, the flavor was pure and good, enhanced, but not overpowered by a good spread of butter. “Never maple syrup!” they both tell me, although a little creamed cod or chipped beef on top is alright for lunch or dinner. It’s true that just because something looks like a little pancake doesn’t mean it should be eaten like one. After eating a few jonnycakes apiece, Bob and Diane sent me on my way with a bag of their Rhode Island Johnnycake Meal (made from 100% Rhode Island Flint Corn) and a promise to call the next time they know the mill will be grinding so I can see it in action.

And sure enough, I’ve made another batch of jonnycakes at home since then, trying to get them just like Diane’s. The nutty cornmeal taste is oddly addictive. Try some Rhode Island jonnycakes for yourself and see if you don’t agree.