Don't call it a hot dog

By any name, diners fiercely loyal to their own
By Joe Yonan
Globe Staff / August 6, 2006

PROVIDENCE -- To hear a native Rhode Islander tell it, the most colorful moniker for the state's stubby little hot wieners, laden with meat sauce, mustard, onions, and celery salt, is too colorful for a family newspaper. ``Off the record, then," he said. ``You wanna know what we call 'em?"
Of course. But I've done some research. I know that here in the littlest state, what are sometimes called New York System wieners are an only-in-Rhody obsession right up there with cabinets, coffee milk, Del's frozen lemonade, and jonnycakes. And I know that they go by many a name.
Gaggas, right? Sure. Destroyers? Uh-huh. Belly-busters? Close, he says, but not quite. So I give up: What, then, does John Rossi call them?
``Some people call 'em belly [expletive ]," said Rossi, smiling, ``because they're good going down, but four hours later they start to come back." In Rossi's experience, the only remedy for such a thing is a few big swigs of Coke about an hour or so after consumption.
Rossi should know. He's been consuming wieners for more than four decades. ``I was born in 1960, so I've eaten them since 1962," he said at the counter of Olneyville New York System in the Olneyville neighborhood of Providence . Moreover, to Rossi, two wieners don't even qualify as dinner, not even ``all the way ." On this Friday night, they're a mere appetizer for the cheesesteak he's now devouring. ``If I wasn't getting the steak, I'd get four wienies," he said.
This little wiener -- whatever you do, don't call it a hot dog -- has flourished in Rhode Island for almost a century, ever since Greek immigrants who ran similar operations on Coney Island moved north and attached the New York name to their new shops in apparent hopes of gaining credibility with the locals. The name and style stuck, and today from Warren to Warwick, Cranston to Newport, and Providence to Woonsocket, dozens of restaurants with names like Wein-O-Rama, Weiner Genie, Rod's Grille, and Sparky's New York System, Sam's New York System, Original New York Systems, Ferrucci Original New York System, and, yes, just plain New York System sell them for barely more than a buck apiece.
Ask a Rhode Islander who makes the best wiener, and the answer will probably be whatever place he or she had them growing up. Lisa Hamilton, associate editor of Rhode Island Magazine, prefers those from Rod's Grille, but that's because she hails from Warren.
The opinions are held dearly. People even disagree on how to spell wieners (see above). Hamilton says her magazine stopped including wieners in its ``Best of Rhode Island" awards for a few years because of the contentiousness (read: hate mail) that resulted
Besides the traditional squared-off shape of most of the wieners (a result of cutting, not tying them off) and the meat-sauce topping, it's the method of assembly that truly distinguishes them. The old-school short-order cooks prepare them ``up d'ahm." They hold one arm out, palm up, and line up the buns between wrist and elbow, then quickly put a wiener in each, squirt on the mustard, dollop the meat sauce, spread the onions, and sprinkle the celery salt. At the best places, all that can happen in a matter of seconds.
``You have to get 'em out as fast as you can," said Nick Barros, one of the cooks at Olneyville, where the Showtime series ``Brotherhood" has filmed some scenes.
His fellow cook, Robert Zanni, talks up his co -worker's arm as if Barros were Curt Schilling. ``I have short arms," he said. ``But this gentleman, he can put on 15, then he stacks ' em -- he can do up to 45!"
Actually, that's not exactly right. ``I've done 50," Barros said.
On the other side of town, at Original New York Systems, when our group orders five wieners all the way, Norman Robb cradles a stainless-steel sheet for his assembly. Why not the arm? ``Because the Health Department says don't do it," he said with a grin. ``And because I don't know you."
This place, owned by the great-grandson of its founder, just celebrated its 79th anniversary. Robb has worked there for 19 of those years, and old habits die hard. ``I have people who come in and say they won't buy 'em unless I do 'em on my arm," he said. ``And then what am I supposed to do?"
Robb and fellow worker Raymond Colaluca are full of stories about founder Gust Pappas and celebrity visitors such as Louis Armstrong, who came for wieners at 2 a.m. one day in the early 1950s.
Musician David Byrne famously worked here in the 1970s, and some say the trademark chopping motion he performs in his oversized suit in the video for the Talking Heads' song ``Once in a Lifetime" came from his experience assembling the wieners. ``When he goes like this," Colaluca said, looking about as far from Byrne as can be imagined, ``he's putting on the mustard, putting on the meat sauce, putting on the onions."
Like Olneyville, Original New York Systems is open until long after Providence's clubs close, which explains the wieners' reputation as post-imbibing, pre-hangover food. As such, the grease content is high, particularly in the meat sauce, which consists of ground beef, fat, and seasonings no one will divulge. ``That I can't tell you," Colaluca said.
At the sunny Rod's Grille in Warren, the meat sauce is less greasy , but co-owner Sandra Rodrigues, whose grandfather Mariano started the place 50 years ago, won't divulge much about her grandmother's recipe. ``I've seen some of the other recipes in the paper, and hers is definitely different," Rodrigues said. ``What's different about it I'm not allowed to tell."
At Olneyville, Rossi remembers skipping church with money his mother gave him for the offering and instead spending it on 25-cent wieners. ``It was sinful," he admitted. For its part, Original New York Systems made news this year when a unit of Rhode Island soldiers serving in Iraq wrote to ask for a taste of home; the restaurant sent all the makings except the actual wieners. ``That's on account of the pork," which Muslim dietary laws prohibit, Colaluca said. ``We didn't want to start another war."

You Say 'Hot Dogs,' Rhode Islanders Say 'Weenies'

by Anthony Brooks

Ferrucci's New York System, which isn't in New York as you might expect, is one of the bright spots in downtown West Warwick, R.I., where many businesses are suffering because of the recession. Locals gather here for breakfast, as well as burgers, fries, wraps and seafood rolls. But the eatery is best known for something else: weenies.
Or wieners. Just don't confuse them with a hot dog. In fact, on my first visit to Ferrucci's I made the mistake of ordering a hot dog. The woman running the grill looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language. "You want a what?" she asked.
A weenie is a Rhode Island thing.
- Mike Ferrucci, Ferrucci's New York System
"Um, a hot dog," I said, "ketchup and mustard."
"We don't have hot dogs here. We have wieners."
Another customer looked at me and said, "You’re not from Rhode Island, are you?"
"A weenie is a Rhode Island thing," says Mike Ferrucci, the restaurant's owner.
Who would have thought that ordering a hot dog — a staple of American fast food from coast to coast — would mark me so obviously as an outsider? But it did.
Ferrucci, who came here from the Bronx 15 years ago, may be Rhode Island’s leading expert on the wiener.
"A weenie is basically like a hot dog but smaller," he says. "It's got different ingredients in it."
Ferrucci says a weenie has veal, pork and beef in it, while a hot dog which just has regular beef in it.
“It’s more plumper,” he says. “It’s a Rhode Island thing — like a Del’s lemonade and a coffee syrup. Out of state, people never heard of that."
It’s true. And if you come here from out of state you should know how to order a wiener. On my first visit to Ferrucci’s the woman running the grill asked me, "Would you like your wiener all the way?"
I have to be honest: Her question made me blush.
But Mike Ferrucci explains, all-the-way is all about the meat sauce.
"The old, famous meat sauce, they call it, simmered on a stove 30, 40, 50 pounds at a time, six different spices for hours,” he says. Ferrucci's all-the-way dog has mustard, the meat sauce, onions and celery salt on it.
So now I know. I ordered a hot dog and ended up with a real Rhode Island education about the wiener, and I left West Warwick well nourished and a bit more worldly.

Rhode Island Style Weiners

by Cate on December 30, 2008


     I have had this strange obsession with hot dogs for the last couple of months.  I can’t explain it really.  I am just totally craving them, and as soon as I start thinking about them, I want them.  Obsession aside, I have actually only indulged two or three times since this situation started, but it hasn’t been easy to practice restraint.
     On a recent episode of Guy Fieri’s show, Guy’s Big Bite on Food Network, he made Rhode Island Style Weiners, so you know I was all over that.  The recipe was inspired from visits to his father-in-law’s house in Rhode Island.  He said that there they eat hot dogs with a ground beef concoction on top of them.  Throw in the steamed buns and I was done for.
The day after Christmas we celebrated the holiday with The Neighbors and since I wanted to do a bar-food type menu, this was perfect.  Okay, it might be a bit of a stretch since you likely don’t belly up to the bar and order hot dogs, but cut me a little slack here.  The ground beef mixture takes just minutes to prepare and totally takes the hot dog to a whole ‘nother experience.  Alright, stop laughing.  Just so, so good.  I steamed the buns (another small nuance I will have to remember for the future), and once the meat was on top, I added the suggested chopped raw onions and yellow mustard.
Food snobs be darned, this was one good eat.

Rhode Island Style WeinersRecipe courtesy of Guy Fieri on Guy’s Big Bite
4 tablespoons margarine (I used butter)
2 yellow onions, minced, divided
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 tablespoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon curry
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 pound ground beef, 80/20
1/4 cup water
20 hot dogs
1 teaspoon salt
20 hot dog buns
Yellow mustard
2 tablespoons celery salt

In a medium saute pan over medium heat add, margarine and 1 minced onion. Saute till translucent, but do not brown. Next add chili powder, paprika, allspice, curry, dry mustard and cinnamon. Then add beef, stir thoroughly and cook for 5 minutes, add water and simmer over medium to low heat for 30 minutes.

In a medium sauce pot boil hot dogs with salt and steam buns.
When meat is done simmering, add meat mixture to the hot dog in the bun, top evenly with minced onion, yellow mustard, and a sprinkle celery salt.