As-salaam Halal Beef Franks Gulden's Spicy Brown Mustard
When I lived in Washington, DC, it seemed my wife and I knew every extant Muslim in town. Tons of Moroccans, Persians, Turks, Palestinians, Tunisians, Pakistanis, and some whose nationalities escape me correct now. I was brought up Jewish and my wife Catholic, but it always amazed me that for all the intense global hatred among various religious groups, we all seemed to get along pretty well in our little enclave of Adams Morgan, a heterogeneous semi-melting pot with a lot of booze-soaked clubs and restaurants to smooth out any rough edges. There were besides many Eritreans, Ethiopians, and of class Salvadorans, due to the conflicts in those countries leading to mass exoduses. And Nigerians, Sudanese, Somalians. Russians and Serbs, Albanians, Greeks-I could go on.
Merely the oddest pairing always seemed to be the Muslims and the Jew (Me). Why was information technology so easy to get along here, to take our friendships for granted, almost, when events taking place thousands of miles away put our brothers and sisters, sometimes literally, at each other's throats? It's difficult to know what makes the hate that people have for each other intensify and grow until the only possible outcome is murder; and I suppose in our innocence, nosotros cling to the promise that that could never happen to our friendships here in the US. 'Those crazy Jews and Palestinians over at that place!', I remember a friend of mine saying, and me agreeing. 'Why tin can't they become along like we practice hither? It's and so easy!'
Simply enough of the indigenous harmony. Today nosotros're here for something a little more of import than world peace. Information technology begins some time ago, when I bet someone I could eat null but 30 different hot dogs in thirty days, and never get bored. In fact, that'due south how I got my name. Standing with the other cab drivers at the bar in Flushing, Queens, beyond the street from the Main-Ro hack line, waiting for fares at one in the morning, ordering common cold draft beers and 'singles', or a Frank Sinatra 'fully dressed', which was a hot dog with everything on it (everything in those days meant mustard and sauerkraut-ah, those were simpler times). Just sometimes the frankfurter ain't what information technology should exist, and those days are the worst days of all. For there is no emptier feeling, and nothing sadder really, than a bad hot dog.
[Halal left, Kosher right]
Then what about the disharmonize between these two cultures and their hot dogs, and how would it play out on the plate? I lined up the Hebrew National brand Kosher Beefiness Frank, and the Al Safa make Halal Weiner, imported from Canada. I chose the accoutrements, and I chose wisely. In that location are Heinz English Broiled Beans in Tomato Sauce, cole slaw, sauerkraut (warmed up first), dill pickle spears, Gulden's brown mustard, and homemade pickled radishes. No buns, which keeps the focus squarely on the meat in the canis familiaris. Each packet was virtually $iv, although the Al Safas weigh in at a total pound, whereas the Hebrew Nationals are just 12 ounces. The Kosher dogs were ruby, virtually too red, but on the other manus, their Halal brothers were a worrisome pinkish-greyness. I broiled two of each, and waited for the hissing and crackling.
In my side-past-side tasting, I have to say, without prejudice, that the Kosher dog is beefy and juicy in its snappy casing, whereas the Halal domestic dog is almost gamy, maybe from some added smoke-season, and the casing doesn't concord up also well nether the broiler, either, maybe from a too-high h2o content. It'southward not scientific discipline, and I did eat end up eating all four dogs, only on this 24-hour interval, the Hebrews won. All I can say is, Salaam Aleykum.
Source: http://dailycocaine.blogspot.com/2007/09/
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