Date: November 11, 2010
Food Ordered: Hot dogs (rippers) with Relish; Root Beer
It didn't take long, after my sister gave me the book, for me to seek out one of the featured spots. (In truth, I had already been to two or three of them by accident, before I knew that Roadfood was a thing - but this was to be the first of many explicit Roadfood Quests.) On the day after Thanksgiving, when it would probably have made the most sense just to eat leftover turkey, I instead took my sister Julia and her then-boyfriend/now-fiance Chris to Clifton, New Jersey in search of what was purported to be the best hot dog in the state. This trip had all the earmarks of a classic Roadfood Quest: it was a drive of at least forty-five minutes to a place I would have otherwise had no reason to visit, and the pay-off made it all worth the trouble.
Despite growing up in New Jersey, I hadn't given much thought to Clifton before: it's a pretty nondescript town outside Newark. Come to think of it, Rutt's Hut is pretty nondescript too. It's a plain brick building, surrounded by a parking lot. (And the counters inside offer primo views of this incredibly un-extraordinary parking lot, which cracks me up.) The entrance is half-glass and half-plastic, and super unfashionable. It looks like a large phone booth. A disproportionate amount of people inside Rutt's Hut looks like they root for the Jets - meaning sad, short and overweight. (If I'm guilty of stereotyping on this one, so is the Wall Street Journal: http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052748703859204575526524037798794).
But one doesn't come to Rutt's for the atmosphere or the conversation: it's all about the hot dogs. Since my eighth birthday or so, I haven't given much of a thought to hot dogs. I don't dislike them, but I also won't go out of my way for them. Rutt's hot dogs, called "rippers," are in another category. Apparently, they are fried in the deep fryer for so long that they rip in half. As a result, these shriveled little pink dogs won't win any hot dog beauty contests. Truth be told, they are kind of funny looking. But they have a pleasing al dente texture that makes them kind of addictive. All three of us started off with one a piece before breaking down and getting a second. No way we could leave there after just one dog. The guy behind the counter was friendlier than we expected. (Lunch counters in the NYC area are not exactly known for the friendliness of their servers. Think "Soup Nazi.") He steered us towards the relish, which "makes the hot dog," and he was absolutely right.
Proof of Rutt's Hut's enduring coolness. Before we set off on our trip, my sister and I told our grandma (who was over for Thanksgiving) about our plans. Her eyes lit up. "Oh! I used to go there after school when I was in high school for hot dogs and root beer!" Yes, our awesome 92-year-old grandma - class of 1936 at Garfield High School was down with Rutt's Hut before it was big. She rocks. And so does this place. We brought her back a t-shirt.
Verdict: 5 out of 5 Stars. Rutt's Hut has some unique, memorable and totally addictive hot dogs. This is Road Food at its best.
Note: Some time after this first Road Food excursion, I began the practice of taking pictures of each of my destinations - kind of to increase the scavenger hunt-like nature of this project. I don't think I have one from Rutt's Hut, so Google images it is.
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