Hot Dogs and Coleslaw – Kate’s Killer Coleslaw

My maternal grandmother, Jeanette, was hardly a vision of health. She smoked, did not exercise, and ate lots of traditional Jewish foods and baked goods that one would never classify as nutritious. When we drove to visit her in Atlantic City from our home in Philadelphia during the summer, we inevitably went out to dinner at the always packed restaurant Lou’s, in Ventnor, New Jersey, right next door. I very specifically remember my grandmother ordering a Jewish version of a Texas Tommy.

A Texas Tommy is a Philadelphia/Southeast Pennsylvania/South Jersey-area specialty consisting of a hot dog with melted cheese, wrapped in bacon, all tucked into a bun. Healthy. At Lou’s the hot dogs were split down the middle and griddled with crisp edges, and in deference to a largely Jewish clientele, in place of bacon under the cheese were thick slices of fried Kosher salami. And a serving came with not one of these artery-clogging monstrosities, but two, with coleslaw and salty pickles on the side. (Of course, cheese with meat places a Texas Tommy very much in the non-kosher column, but I guess the bacon was especially offensive.) Unfortunately, Jeanette died at 72 of a heart attack. I’m sure her diet in general, and Lou’s in particular, didn’t help.

Jeanette’s family also had a tradition of serving hot dogs (actually knockwurst, but basically the same thing) at their annual Hanukkah party. While other families served brisket or chicken along with their potato latkes and jelly donuts, my mother’s family served hot dogs stuffed into fat challah-like egg buns, studded all over with poppy seeds. They got these buns from Kaplan’s New Model Bakery, which still bakes excellent bread in their store at the corner of North 3^rd and Poplar Streets in Philadelphia. My mother couldn’t remember if her mother served coleslaw with their Hanukkah hot dogs, but she thought it was a definite possibility.

Despite the exceptions noted above, hot dogs in my family were a rarity. When we went to picnics as kids, we never grilled hot dogs, or even burgers for that matter. Instead, my father made fried chicken at home, and brought it cold, with coleslaw alongside. His fried chicken was delicious, with a thick coating of breadcrumbs, but I never cared for his coleslaw. It was not sweet enough; too tart for my liking, and it was roughly cut into large, uneven chunks. I prefer my slaw shredded or evenly cut into thin wisps, with more mayo than my father would allow.

I love a good coleslaw, and Jeanette’s fit the bill. She served it to us on Friday nights, not with hot dogs, but with cornflake crumb-coated chicken. I ate it in place of the chopped liver that the adults snacked on at the start of the meal. I could never get enough. Unfortunately, her recipe has been lost to time.

I’ve gone through many coleslaw recipes over the years. Initially I tried to recreate my grandmother’s, but with only limited success. I then switched to a recipe from a friend that included horseradish. I like the extra tang that it provides, but it still was not perfect.

I’m always skeptical when I try a new slaw, and often judge certain restaurants by how they make this simple side dish. Many don’t make the cut, yet I’ve never understood why they usually only serve a thimbleful alongside your meal, when cabbage is so inexpensive. Why the tiny little dish? A bit of generosity with the coleslaw wouldn’t break the bank. An exception is our local diner in Huntington, NY, where the wait staff plops down a dish of perfect slaw in front of every patron as soon as you order, along with a huge basket of gratis bread and a plate of excellent pickled cucumbers and green tomatoes. And if you want more, just ask.

Luckily, I found a new recipe for coleslaw. Our friend Sue recently brought it to a Friday night gathering, and while in my skepticism I was not expecting much, this one was perfect. It had the proper balance of sweet and tart, sliced into thin wisps, with just the right amount of mayo creating a flavorful “juice.” And while I generally disdain celery in any form, the celery seed here makes the slaw, as long as it is kept in check. Sue was kind enough to give me the recipe, and it has since become my go to for coleslaw.

While I can’t condone ever eating a Texas Tommy under any occasion, or even a hot dog more than maybe once a year, coleslaw is healthy enough to be anytime food. And I’d eat this slaw any day of the week.

Kate’s Killer Coleslaw

While my friend Sue passed this recipe on to me, she says it originates with her co-worker Kate, who shared it with her over 20 years ago. According to Kate, it’s the celery seed that makes it “killer.” But I also think the cut of the cabbage makes a difference. While it could be grated, I use a sharp knife to slice big chunks of cabbage in very thin wisps. It’s the right texture for slaw. In addition, making it a few hours before serving helps it develop proper flavor and “juice.” It really is a killer coleslaw.

The recipe makes enough to share at a large picnic, a far bigger portion than you need for a single dinner. But it is easily scaled down for a smaller, family-size serving.

makes at least 2 quarts, about 15 minutes, plus resting time

1 large head cabbage, shredded

2 carrots, peeled and finely grated

2 cups mayonnaise

¾ cups sugar

¼ cups Dijon mustard

¼ cups apple cider vinegar

2 Tbsp. celery seed

1 tsp. kosher salt

¼ tsp. black pepper

1. Cut the cabbage head into 4 or 5 large chunks, leaving the core behind. Discard core. Lay each chunk flat on the cutting board and using a sharp 9 or 10-inch chef’s knife cut into very thin wisps. Cut wisps into shorter pieces if they are too long. Place the cut cabbage into a very large mixing bowl.
2. Add and mix in the grated carrot.
3. Combine remaining ingredients together in separate bowl.
4. Add about half of the sauce to cabbage and mix in thoroughly. Taste and add more sauce as needed.
5. Let sit for a few hours in the refrigerator until ready to serve.

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