DETROIT – I love a hot dog. I love a hot dog almost any way they come. Chicago dog? With extra peppers, please. Seattle dog? Slather on that cream cheese. Dodger dog? Classics never go out of style.
But there may be no better way to consume emulsified, cased beef or pork than with the Ball Park Frank. There’s just something about sitting down at a ballpark and hearing the call from the man with a box slung around his body.
“Get you hot dogs here!” It may as well be a siren’s song.
There is nothing like stepping back from a concession stand to a waiting condiment station. You press the pump, and a perfect squiggle of ketchup flows onto the sausage. The ratio of dog-to-condiment leaves just enough room for mustard, relish, and -- maybe if you’re feeling adventurous -- a sporkful of chopped onion. Perfection on a summer’s day.
Before you go any further: This isn’t a place for the “is a hot dog a sandwich” debate. This is strictly a celebration of the hot dog, and the fact that this American classic would be nothing without Detroit.
The beginning of hot dogs and baseball
Hot dogs and baseball have been an iconic duo since the 1860s, when they were introduced by German immigrant and owner of the St. Louis Browns baseball team, Chris von der Ahe. They were first served bunless -- instead, vendors who sold hot dogs from carts would hand out white gloves. As the legend goes, according to food company Sigma-Alimentos, vendors became upset when their gloves weren’t returned, forcing them to lose out on revenue. Somewhere down the line, the long-split bun was introduced, and it fit like a glove.
It wouldn’t be until nearly 100 years later the “plump when you cook ‘em” sausage came to grills and rollers everywhere.
Ball Park Franks born in Detroit
In 1957, Hugo Slotkin, the owner of Detroit-based Hygrade Food Products, got the contract to sell the first hot dogs at Tigers Stadium, according to his granddaughter Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin (D-MI). You can see her appreciation tweet about it here.
Sam Slotkin, Rep. Slotkin’s great-grandfather, supplied Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs in New York for 50 years after immigrating to the U.S. from Belarus, according to the congresswoman. He took his talents for processing meat to Detroit, where he started Hygrade.
When the Tigers agreed to let his company be the sole sellers of hot dogs in the park, he turned to his Chief Sausage Maker Gus Hauff to create a new recipe to be sold just for baseball fans in Detroit, according to a review of the biography of the Ball Park Frank.
Hauff eventually added veal and made the emulsion finer. The company also made them larger: eight hot dogs to a pound instead of 10. Fans couldn’t get enough.
Two years later, in 1959, Hygrade brought their franks to grocery stores in Detroit with the new name Ball Park Franks. The soon-to-be iconic name that would be seared into the American lexicon was cooked up over a weekend-long brainstorming session, the company proudly boasts on its website. Differing accounts have been made about who came up with the name. Some accounts say it was a saleswoman named Mary Ann Kurk who came up with the name in a company contest. Others say it was salesman Bill Willtsie who coined it during that weekend-long brainstorm.
With a new name, “Ball Park Frank,” and its famous tagline “Hygrade,” began selling their dogs with Detroit roots nationwide.
Ball Park Franks live on
Hygrade would eventually be bought and dismantled by the Sara Lee company and the brand would be sold again in 2014 to the Hillshire Farms food conglomerate. But even as the brand changed hands and tastes (the Ball Park Frank is now sold in three varieties of beef franks, classic and turkey), the feeling that comes with eating a frank hasn’t.
There’s something timeless about a Ball Park Frank. It’s a staple of Americana, but more than that, it’s a constant.
In a world that can feel as if it’s hurtling out of control like a wild pitch in the dirt, the Ball Park Frank is a steady hand. It’s a food out of time that can be a transporting vessel of nostalgia on a summer’s day, taking you back to a ballgame with your family and a glove you’ll have to grow into. Or a long shift at the summer job at the local pool, not wanting the school year to start (I did that job for 4 summers). Or a late-night snack, microwaved in a piece of bread because you miss the taste of home.
So, the next time you have a hot dog, tip your cap to the city of Detroit and pass the mustard.
Here’s a Ball Park Franks promotional graphic from the 1976 Detroit Tigers Scorebook: