We’ve all been there. As Michiganders, we’ve started taking the Coney Island for granted. It’s so ubiquitous, so “just there on the corner,” that we forget it’s our state’s greatest culinary contribution to the world. But let’s be honest, not all chili is created equal.
There is a massive gulf between a generic hot dog and the real-deal, snap-skinned franks that define our local ritual. These are the spots where the mustard is applied with surgical precision and the onions have that specific, lightning-fast crunch.
When you find a counter where the steam smells like cumin and the bun is so soft it’s practically a cloud, you remember why this humble dog is legendary…