Those 15-cent hot dogs at 'Famous' could beat Burger King any day | Bob Shryock

Thanks, Burger King, for honoring the 'dog.

My eating habits have never been anything to boast about. Preferred foods include anything off the menu at McDonald's, French fries with brown gravy, chocolate ice cream by the gallons, and any candy bar that doesn't have coconuts as a center.

But there's one underrated item that merits space today because the good people at Burger King have had the common sense to add it to their menu.

Bob ShryockTimes file photo 

That would be the good old all-American hot dog with optional fixins. I'll tell you how far back in time I go with them.

My hometown was bereft of good restaurants. The best, near the center of town, was the Famous Texas Lunch, where a pretty good slab of meat loaf, mashed potatoes and corn cost you a mere 55 cents. The townies converged on the "Famous," open 24 hours, in the wee small hours of Sunday morning after a night of drinking National Bohemian Beer.

My friend, Nick "The Greek" Papitous, owned and operated the "Famous" for many years. He became somewhat famous himself for his wacky preparation of hot dogs for the weekday luncheon crowds.

Nick's hot dogs were the best I've ever had, especially when hot mustard, finely chopped sweet onions and his special secret sauce were applied. Nick never divulged his recipe for the sauce so for the last 60 years I've been tinkering with mine.

Stone-faced and wearing a white T-shirt, Nick began his noontime ritual. He prepared several dozen dogs on a large grill that sat in the restaurant's bay window. Then, 1-by-1, he began transferring the cooked dogs to his right arm until he had a dozen or so lined up. Using his left hand to complete the balancing act, he began lathering the dogs with the mustard, onions and secret sauce. He placed them on a tray, then began reloading while the street gawkers, their daily luncheon treat finished, went inside to buy one. Or three. And they were worth every penny of the 15 cents Nick charged.

I left home at age 18. When I returned, Nick had sold the business but his hot dogs were resurrected at John Wallace's Kitchen at the same location - sans Nick. I'm guessing the secret sauce wasn't as good.

At Gettysburg College, where I matriculated, a hot dog specialty restaurant near center square wasn't quite up to par with Nick's, but wasn't a bad runnerup.

Nick's dogs, incidentally, were affectionately nicknamed "Growlers" because of the scary gurgling noises that were centered in your stomach every time you ate one.

Growlers would top my menu. But not just one.

I'd also feature Bob's Fried Chicken, Blistering-Hot Chili, Hamburger Hoagies, Chicken-Fried Steak With Milk Gravy, and wings.

You know, all the healthy stuff.

Anyway, kudos to Burger King for honoring the dog. The other night my wife brought home two, loaded.

But, she said, there was no Nick the Greek around to prepare them. And, alas, no secret sauce.