I work in New Jersey. For years I’ve regaled my co-workers with stories of the Lehigh Valley and Whitehall. The good, bad and ugly sides of life here have been revealed in painstaking detail. One recurring topic of conversation is Lehigh Valley cuisine. Specifically, hot dogs. Jersey people take their hot dogs seriously and after sampling the fare at famous places like Jimmy Buff’s, I am convinced that New Jersey has us beat in hot dogs.
A while back, my co-worker’s brother came out to the Valley and sampled Yocco’s hot dogs. He loved them…much to my surprise….and sang their praises. I told my co-workers the truth-Yocco’s is an abomination. Their hot dogs taste like rat scrotums, their special chili sauce has no meat in it, their rolls are stale and they offer pierogis in place of fries. I never liked Yocco dogs and never will. But my co-worker’s curiosity was peaked, so today I brought in a box full of Yocco’s slop dogs for them to sample.
This morning I went to the Yocco’s in Fogelsville and picked up fifteen of the toxic waste slags and brought them into work. Each dog had onions, the special sauce slime and mustard on it. By the time I arrived at work I was gagging and the interior of my car smelled like the innards of an irradiated rhino. I’m seriously considering junking my car now. Nothing will get that stench out. Nothing says Lehigh Valley better than the stink of Yocco’s barf dogs.
At lunch time today I arranged the dogs on a table in my office and invited fifteen of my co-workers in to sample a slice of life in my hometown. They walked in, each one picked up a hot dog and bit in. The response was unanimous and loud. To paraphrase:
“Oh My God! This tastes Horrible!!”
My co-workers had just tasted the best the Lehigh Valley had to offer and they arrived at the same conclusion I reached over twenty five years ago. Yocco’s produces the most repulsive hot dog on the planet. Anyone who thinks their food is good is borderline insane. As I said, the chili sauce has NO meat in it. The cheese is sliced American, they’re too cheap to use cheese sauce. The onions are soggy and the bun is hard as a rock. Welcome to the Lehigh Valley.
I personally enjoyed their reactions. None of them made it through their dogs. Two ladies vomited, a few men gagged and retched. All of them complained and accused me of trying to poison them. I wasn’t trying to poison anyone. I simply wanted them to get a feel for what life is like in the Valley. After lunch my co-workers agreed that I should move out of Whitehall and get to civilization before it’s too late.
Back to the Yocco’s gruel. My cultured co-workers hated it. I told them they would but they did not listen. My secretary is going home early. She says her mouth tastes like an elephant took a crap inside of it. Hey, that’s the Yocco experience! It amazes me that so many people in Whitehall worship at the Yocco’s altar. After today I’m convinced of two things: Most of the people in my home town are idiots and I do not fit in there anymore.
Maybe it’s time to move the family to a place where they know what good food is. That place is not Whitehall or the Lehigh Valley.