The Dog Joint (59 S. State St., Westerville)

You're probably wondering why the Dublin Grease Guide would review a restaurant located in Westerville. Ordinarily, we wouldn't. But there's nothing like The Dog Joint in Dublin, or anywhere else in greater Columbus for that matter. And if you've got a hankering for a really good hot dog, it's worth the drive.

The Dog Joint bills itself as "gourmet dogs and more." Gourmet hot dogs: what a brilliant idea. There's no shortage of gourmet hamburgers in this town, but if you want a really good hot dog, you're out of luck, unless you're at a Clippers or Jackets game. (I hear there's a Nathan's at the zoo, but I've never tried it, and I'm skeptical that the zoo food court provides true Nathan's quality.)

The first thing I noticed was the friendly staff. We were greeted with a friendly "hello" upon entering and a "bye, folks" on the way out. You can tell the difference between genuine friendliness and a phony friendliness script that was written in a corporate office and is spoken by some poor wage slave under duress, and this was the former. We're talking 1950's malt-shop friendliness, as seen on TV.

The second thing I noticed was the menu. You'd be advised to step out of line and study it for a few moments before ordering. You begin by choosing a bun (egg or honey wheat), then a method of cooking your dog (steamed or grilled), then choose the dog (beef, turkey, bratwurst, Italian sausage). Corn dogs also are available. Next, choose from a list of more than 40 toppings, including almonds, bacon, dried cranberries, and six kinds of mustard.

To simplify matters, The Dog Joint offers twelve specialty dogs, including the Windy City (yellow mustard, onions, sweet relish, tomatoes, pickles, sport peppers, and celery salt), the Aloha (bell peppers, crushed pineapple, bacon, brown sugar sauce, cinnamon, and almonds), and the Chuck Wagon (barbecue sauce, coleslaw, and pickles). If you like chili dogs, try the Messy Me (brown mustard, onions, chili, cheddar cheese).

Next, select a side: fries (plain, with cheese, or with chili and cheese), onion rings, baked beans, mac & cheese, coleslaw, applesauce, or potato chips. Finally, choose a drink: soda, iced tea (plain or southern sweet style), coffee, milkshakes, malts, floats, or something called a "lemon shake-up." Beer will be available soon, thanks to the sensible voters of Westerville who've approved a zoning variation.

If you've made it this far, get ready for the best hot dog you've had in years...maybe ever. Oh, I'm sure if you're from Back East, you'll claim you've had better, but you're lying. (Also, shut up about the Yankees already.) The Dog Joint uses Vienna Beef dogs from Chicago, and mine was excellent. The fries are miniature British pub-style chips, and because of their size, they avoid that mushy-in-the-middle quality.

Cap Jr., who is about to turn five, never passes up a good hot dog. He ordered the Puppy Meal - a smaller dog, a side, a drink, and a dessert (an ice cream cone, or Puppy Chow - Chex mix with peanut butter and chocolate on top). To prevent dessert meltdown, the counter staff gives your little one a Milk-Bone dog biscuit, which he or she can redeem for dessert after finishing the main meal - a fun and thoughtful touch.

Pricing is very reasonable - a bargain, really. A combo meal with a side and drink ranges from $5.35 to $6.65, depending on your choice of dog and toppings.

The only thing standing between The Dog Joint and a perfect five-spot rating is the tiny dining room. The Dog Joint occupies one of the older buildings in uptown Westerville, and while the owners have remodeled it very nicely, there simply isn't enough room for the crush of customers attracted to a high-quality eatery with a unique menu. We were fortunate enough to beat the dinner rush, but I would have enjoyed my meal more without having to watch hungry, impatient people waiting for tables and/or eating standing up. I did notice an outdoor patio with plenty of tables, so when (if?) true spring weather arrives, this shouldn't be an issue. In the meantime, arrive early, or order to go.

I'll definitely go back to The Dog Joint. I've got to try the Aloha, and Cap Jr. wants some Puppy Chow.

UPDATE, 4/5/08: Took Cap Jr. back to the Dog Joint for lunch today and tried the Aloha dog with cheese fries. The Aloha is excellent - the cinnamon, brown sugar, and pineapple give it a unique taste. Skip the cheese on the fries - they're better crispy than gooey and soggy with cheddar. Cap Jr. and I agreed that the egg bun is better than the wheat.

The Dog Joint was even more crowded on this visit, forcing us to sit outside on the patio. Fortunately, it was 60 degrees and sunny. Two visits, two great meals. We'll be back.

Panera Bread (Tuttle Mall)

Today I visited Panera Bread in Tuttle Mall, because that's where my lunch companion wanted to go and it was her turn to choose the destination. I've been to Panera just three times in my life - twice because my wife wanted to go, and today because my coworker wanted to go. It's a good place to get in touch with your feminine side.

The menu appeared to be full of healthy items perfect for people hoping to avoid the weight gain and loss of self-esteem that inevitably results from a lardy diet such as mine. I'm happy being a large mammal and I need a lunch that will keep me full for at least five hours, so I ordered the chipotle chicken sandwich ("NEW!").

Everybody seems to be offering chipotle-themed items in hope of harnessing the popularity of the Chipotle burrito chain. Here's another case of marketing-think gone awry, because as far as I can see, there's only one way to harness the popularity of the Chipotle burrito chain, and that's to sell burritos made from fresh ingredients at a bargain price.

I'd like to tell you how Panera's chipotle chicken sandwich tasted. I'd like to, but I can't, because they served me a ham sandwich instead with colby cheese, lettuce, and tomato, with a side of chips and a pickle spear. I was so preoccupied thinking about work that I didn't realize the mistake until I'd taken several bites, so I went ahead and finished the ham sandwich.

All the sandwich ingredients were fresh, but as I sat there chewing, it occurred to me that if I wanted a fresh sandwich on whole-wheat bread, I could make a better one at home using deli meat and cheese from the grocery store. I'd have my choice of mayo or mustard (Emeril's smooth honey, Gulden's brown, or French's yellow) and my choice of chips (this week's selections: cool ranch Doritos, Sun Chips, or wavy Lay's potato chips). And it wouldn't have cost me $8.84, either.

Panera rates three spots because the food was fresh, the restaurant was clean, the service was prompt (if inaccurate), and I did get change back from a $10 bill (though not much). It's a good choice for women wanting to stay skinny and men wanting to meet skinny women. If you don't fit into either of those categories - and as a married fat guy, I don't - you can find a better lunch for less money elsewhere.

Benny's Cheesesteaks (6495 Perimeter Drive)

I can't quite figure out Esquire magazine. A typical issue contains about fifty pages of excellent prose on topics of interest to men - careers, leisure activities, entertainment, transportation toys (cars, motorcycles, and boats), Kate Beckinsale. A typical issue also contains about forty pages of ads featuring pretty boys in crazy/trendy clothing in which no regular guy would be caught dead, and another forty pages of articles on how to look like a pretty boy and where to buy that crazy/trendy clothing.

Thanks to pressure from the Internet, subscriptions to print magazines are dirt cheap now. $8 for a year's subscription to Esquire, for example. And this month's issue features a 14-page article on a topic near and dear to my heart: sandwiches. Fourteen pages of sandwich recipes, sandwich-shop reviews, amusing sandwich-related anecdotes, and even beautifully-shot full-color photographs of sandwiches. I can't imagine the metrosexual types who read Esquire's fashion pages being the least bit interested in where to find a good cheesesteak sandwich. Mayonnaise can be very hard to get out of a good silk cravat, I hear.

I'm probably not representative of the typical Esquire reader. I wear $18 jeans and change my own motor oil. However, I am very interested in a good cheesesteak sandwich, which brought me to Benny's Cheesesteaks in the Kroger shopping center on Perimeter Drive — not once, but twice, so I could give you the lowdown.

On my first visit, I ordered the original cheesesteak combo with onion rings. No frills - just chopped ribeye steak, grilled onions, and your choice of cheese. Optional toppings include lettuce, tomato, banana peppers, jalapenos, and mayo. I skipped these toppings to better judge the staple ingredients.

I'm happy to report that the sandwich was excellent. The beef was tender and flavorful, the cheese melted to perfection, the onions strong but not overpowering. Where Benny's really shines is the bun, or more properly, the Italian loaf. Several signs proclaim that Benny's uses Amoroso hearth-baked bread and rolls. Apparently Amoroso's is well-known in Philly, which means little to a Midwesterner like me. The loaf was soft and warm on the inside, with an appropriately crisp crust on the outside. Great stuff.

The onion rings were a little disappointing. The batter was nearly perfect, but the rings themselves were chewy and prone to sliding out of the batter and ending up in one's lap. Be mindful, or you'll soil your $200 chinos ("Khaki is a color, chinos are pants," Esquire admonishes.)

The restaurant itself is pleasant enough for a strip-mall eatery. Seating was plentiful, and one wall featured a lithograph of the Founding Fathers, a photo of the Liberty Bell, and a copy of the Declaration of Independence. It's noisy, though - the constant "ching ching ching ching" of the cook chopping steak can overpower ordinary conversation. Maybe yelling to be heard by your lunch mates is an authentic part of the Philadelphia sandwich experience.

That was last Thursday. Today, I found myself craving yet another Benny's sandwich. As Ray Parker Jr. says, "I shoulda never gone back, I know, but I had to have just a little bit mo'." Today I tried the BBQ City sandwich with fries. The meat, cheese, and Italian loaf were excellent again, proving last week was no fluke, and the addition of the barbecue sauce makes a very good sandwich even better. The fries were considerably better than the onion rings - crinkle fries cooked to a perfect crisp. No soggy crinkle fries at Benny's.

Benny's isn't expensive. My first visit was just over $8; my second, just over $7...or about the same as a year's subscription to Esquire. Both are a good value. On the other hand, if I ever spend $200 on a pair of "chinos" as Esquire recommends, please hunt me down and kick my ass on general principles.