Dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster has finally settled the question on the minds of everyone who has ever eaten a wiener: Is a hot dog a sandwich? If you think it’s not, you’re officially on the wrong side of history. Or you just don’t know what a sandwich actually is. Let me help you out with that.
For the uninitiated, a sandwich is all about the happy endings. It’s a delicious hug between two pieces of bread. But what’s a hug without a little love in the middle? Bread takes separate, ordinary ingredients and makes magic. Peanut butter is not a sandwich until it gets intimate with jelly between two slices of bread.
True, a frankfurter alone is not a sandwich. It’s technically a sausage. But once buns get in the picture? This hot dog becomes a sandwich, baby.
To deny hot dogs their rightful place in the pantheon of sandwiches is little more than foodie elitism. So a hot dog isn’t a panini, a Reuben, a gyro, a muffuletta, a PB&J, a BLT or a Philly cheesesteak. It’s the patron saint of toddler food. A hot dog is definitely on the lower end of the sandwich spectrum. But if you think hot dogs take no creativity, then you’ve probably never tasted the glory of a Coney Island. (You should also fix that immediately.)
At the end of the day, a hot dog will always be an undignified mush of mystery meat in a casing. But it’s still part of a sandwich when you drop it into a bun. Denying that simple truth just makes you a wiener (oops — I meant whiner).