From the 1960s-1980s recipe box of a midwestern grandma.

Ingredients:

3 pounds ground chuck, browned and drained

3 cups water

1 tablespoon salt

3 to 6 tablespoons chili powder

8 tablespoons paprika

Directions:

Combine all in slow pot* and stir thoroughly to mix spices. Cover and cook on low 10-12 hours or on high for 4-6 hours**.

Granddaughter’s Notes:

Firstly, where the hell is the onion? (Okay, here’s where: I think it’s supposed to be served with a metric shit-ton of raw diced onion sprinkled on top of the sauced dog. Still, seems like you should add some to the chuck while it’s browning.)

*Slow Pot: Initially I thought this must have been the way midwestern women referred to Crock Pots or non-Crock Pot brand slow cookers. According to the World Wide Web (TM), no, this wasn’t a thing. So this was, most likely, grandma’s way of referring to Crock Pots, etc. during a stretch of time in the 60s-80s.

And this, dear Reader, is weird. Because at least by the 1980s, she was (like literally everyone else) referring to Crock Pots as, well, Crock Pots. Like Coke or Kleenex or Velcro, didn’t matter the actual specifics, the brand name was the name of a type of object. Always.

Well, I guess not “always” because for a stretch of time when she was writing crabbed and messy cursive on index cards, she idiosyncratically called them “slow pots.”

** These times and power settings seem pretty freaking arbitrary since the meat is already cooked and the spices are (a) powdered and (b) there are only three of them and that is only if you include “salt” as a spice. I mean, letting it slowly, languorously, lovingly build flavor seems a little unnecessary. But I’m not a chef. (And grandma wasn’t, say, Cordon Bleu.)

But most importantly, “LIKE HOT DOG SHOP:”

In Kokomo, Indiana, where she lived in the Ages of the Recipe Box, there are only a handful of hot dog shops my grandma could have meant, not a one of them named “hot dog shop.”

From most to least likely: Louie’s Coney Island, B&K, Cone Palace, and the Sweet Shop.

To tumble down some Kokomo Hot Dog rabbit hole, in reverse order—

The Sweet Shop. (To this day, I do not know if it was called “Sweet Shop” or “The Sweet Shop.”) This was the one in Maple Crest Plaza, 90 degrees from Hills (it’s where the toys are) and in line with Ben Franklin, the Hallmark store, Toy Mart (um, also where the toys are/were), and Kroger. Also, during some of that time there was a Fiesta hair salon. (Other defunct things? A Pic-Way Shoes, a Dress Barn, and a “Castle-Tyme” White Castle knock off. The Castle-Tyme did not last long.)

(Ahem) Sweet Shop (with or without the “The”): had student style desks along one wall, a ton of ice cream options with a wooden staircase that you could climb to better see the ton of ice cream options, and a small-ish grill. I do not even once remember us getting grill food there. Not once. Always ice cream or flavored cokes. There is actually no way this was “hot dog shop.”

Cone Palace. If you’re ever in Kokomo, worth a visit. Excellent spot for soft-serve and even Dole Whip sometimes. Their grill/fried food is good too. In the late ‘80s, they used to offer these insane white-bagged specials (6 sloppy joes for 5 bucks; so many chili dogs for very little money, tenderloin sandwiches similarly). My sister loves them to this day because they’re allegedly one of the few places in the world that will still serve marshmallow cokes (something about exploding?).

[Note: marshmallow fluff + coke? Doesn’t explode. This is a rumor or something. Sorry, H. Mentos + coke on the other hand? Total science experiment, though Diet Coke works better for some reason (baking soda will do the trick, too, if you’re just looking for some fun).]

But is this my grandma’s “hot dog shop?” I don’t think so. For starters, I don’t remember her in conjunction with Cone Palace, not ever. Also, Cone Palace was very much a “chili dog” place, not so much with the coneys. And their “chili/coney dogs” were sauced with something that is, I think, tomato-based and way more orange than grandma’s recipe would make.

B & K: Known for hot dogs and root beer, like A & W. Good drive-in grill food, including coneys. But their coneys, much like Cone Palace, are topped with something in the chili-dog family: orangey, kind of tomato-based, even if they pour it off, very similar to a Manwich or Steak ‘n Shake “chili meat” like they put on their “chili mac” and “chili mac supreme.” And, if memory serves, not paprika flavor. They honestly should just call ‘em “chili dogs.” Also? Again, not a spot she ever really mentioned.

Which leads us to the one I’m basically positive she meant (I can’t ask her or I would):

Louie’s Coney Island.

Established in 1937 by the Volikas family, originally located on Union Street, downtown. Moved to a different location on Union Street, also downtown. Currently, (sadly), no longer downtown but located on Hoffer Street (near the spot where Betty Hayes’ dance studio was and across the street from Kokomo Mall).

Random side trip: Coney Island restaurants became popular in the 19-teens (1914-1917) in the midwest (Michigan and South Bend, Indiana. Notably). While they often served coneys (based on the New York amusement park fare), they often served hamburgers and gyros and usually became greasy spoon diner-type spots with breakfast and other grill-and-fryer foods.

Additional side trip: see a photo of Louie and South Volikas at the original Union Street location in the 1970s here.

Louie’s is known for its coneys and bakes, both of which are topped with copious amounts of coney sauce and raw diced onion (plus, if you’re not a moron, mustard and cheese).

The bake is a hamburger, baked (!) and folded into a hot dog bun. And then topped with coney sauce. And, rightfully, it’s legendary. (Unless you’re vegan, in which case it’s horrifying.)

The coney is, well, standard hot dog, covered in coney (not chili) sauce and raw diced onion. Cheese and mustard optional (though, again, how dare you say no?).

“Hot dog shop.”

There are several reasons I believe this to be what my grandma was referring to with this recipe. Primarily, when her sister and brother-in-law came to town, she would take them to Louie’s “for hot dogs.” They always, always got the coneys. (Rightfully.)

For another, Louie’s coney sauce really is a meat sauce, not chili sauce, not chili meat sauce. It’s, you know, cooked-down ground beef with spices (possibly, probably paprika, chili powder, and salt). There is no “this was pulled from a pot of chili and drained” quality.

It’s not “chili meat.” It looks a lot like my grandma’s “like the hot dog shop” recipe.

And, I guess lastly, Louie’s was known for hot dogs (and its bakes), but it was named for and referred to in reference of its coneys. Coney hot dogs, I mean. “Hot dog shop.”

And, yeah, it’s funny that she wrote down a recipe for a coney sauce (beef chuck and three spices if you include salt) and called it “chili sauce” from “hot dog shop.”

Sure, the recipe included chili powder (choose your own adventure, three to however many teaspoons), but this was most definitely not a chili sauce or a chili meat sauce.This was coney sauce.

And, I’m pretty sure, it’s what “Hot Dog Shop” was known for.

I’m still pretty sure that the Crock Pot (sorry, slow pot) recipe here has totally arbitrary times and, if making, you should just warm it until it tastes good.

But, again, I’m not a chef.