What makes a great chilidog?

Hot dogs are one thing. Hot dogs smothered in chili are something else. I grew up on chilidogs — both from the Varsity in Atlanta and from a pharmacy/restaurant in my hometown, and the combo of low-budget flavors still pull at my heart and my make mouth water. In Baton Rouge, we have amazing Chicago-style dogs at Al’s Chicago Dog and Polish (670 O’Neal Lane), replete with the piquant, diverse flavors that typify these regional dogs. But it’s hard to find the chili dogs of my childhood here, like the “scrambled dogs” served at the lunch counter of Dinglewood Pharmacy in Columbus, Ga., which involved a neon pink wiener stuffed in a bun covered with thin, soupy chili. Or the dogs at the Varsity in which the no-bean, finely ground chili is applied to bun almost like a spread. Both were wondrous, sumptuous, trashy lunches I miss terribly.

In the absence of that, I experiment with my own chili dogs, but here’s where fine ingredients disappoint. It seems the better quality the chili, the worse the chili dog. I can produce a hearty pot of rich, savory chili made from scratch with best ingredients, and while I’ll toss it on a hot dog, it can’t compete with the stuff of tradition.

Maggie Heyn Richardson’s food writing has appeared in EatingWell Magazine, Taste of the South Magazine and on the public radio program, On Point. She is a regular 225 contributor.