There is something glorious and magical about a meal that contains sausage. While a hot dog can suffice when one’s stomach is in the mood for a sausage party, what really hits the spot is a delicious bratwurst. You’ve got the “we like to hang out with our hot dog friends” variety, who are pre-cooked and simply awaiting the warmth of a microwave before diving into your mouth. You’ve also got the “we are super fat and magical” sort of bratwurst, who live with the raw meat and are indeed magical, and it is quite a privilege to stand there over the stove for 20 minutes watching those babies simmer. On my bratwursts, I require ketchup and mustard. Yellow mustard. Bright tacky yellow mustard. I’ve just never been able to get into the spicy and/or fancy mustard. It is also preferable for tomatoes to be involved in some way. Tomatoes and bratwurst are actually closely related, you can tell because they are both fat and juicy.
On another note, one of the most ridiculous things ever is a box of pre-packaged hot dogs. Like, with a hot dog wrapped in plastic, sitting in a bun, also wrapped in plastic. Since it’s apparently way too complicated to buy the 8 pack of hot dogs and the 8 pack of buns separately, then stick them together. Or, if we’re talking about portability here, to just stick the pack of hot dogs in your fridge at work, and keep the buns stashed in the breakroom or at your desk. Then, when lunchtime hits, unite them in a glorious fit of “hey, this takes even less effort then unwrapping an overpriced prepackaged hot dog!” Albeit, maybe this is for a kid, some kid who’s like “Aw hell, mom/dad, I don’t care if my hot dog’s shrink-wrapped, I’m just gonna trade it for cookies anyway”. I like to think that it’s only really stupid people that buy the pre-packaged dogs, the sort of people who don’t even realise there’s a lovely layer of plastic coating the wiener, they just heat it up, sink their teeth in, and think “Mmmm…bonus protein!”