Hot dogs go chien chaud!

This review was first published in August 2001

The hot dog is a curious part of our gastronomic heritage. I say 'our', but, strictly speaking, it is a Teutonic/American thing. As far as I know, the hot dog came about in the following manner: a sausage vendor in early 20th-century America used to sell this nourishing snack piping hot from his griddle, and loaned his customers gloves so that they would not burn their hands.

Perhaps he was shelling out too much on heat-resistant handwear, or maybe unscrupulous customers ran off with the gloves. Anyway, he came up with the blisteringly bright idea of supplying the sausage wrapped in bread. Not since Archimedes leapt out of the bath shouting 'Eureka!' has such a major scientific and cultural leap forward benefited mankind in general and those vendors of hot dogs outside Buckingham Palace in particular.

The hot dog has come a long way since then. The odour of fried onions and ketchup not only wafts around baseball stadia across the world, it now permeates all our national monuments. However, just how far it has come was made apparent to me when I heard that Ian Schrager's Sanderson hotel was going long on hot dawgs this summer.

Given the involvement of multi-Michelin-starred Alain Ducasse in the catering side of Schrager's business, I figured that this would be more of a chien chaud than yer regular hot dog. In reality, the hot dog menu at Sanderson is an excuse to get punters out of the Long Bar, and the preposterously overpriced Spoon+ restaurant, and into the charming, quasi Frank Lloyd Wright courtyard, with its algae-filled water feature.

Immediate impressions on a sunny London lunchtime are favourable - Schrager gives good courtyard. Parasols alternate with patio heaters, while an agreeably diverse range of seating options, from spindly metal garden chairs to pillow-strewn, hardwood banquette, conspire to create a groovy atmosphere. People, too, were doing their bit for the surroundings: men in short-sleeved shirts and sunglasses, and women in skimpy clothes, denim jackets and sunglasses were all trying their best to look as if they were brokering film deals. It was a little LA, a little Miami - very Schrager.

The hip factor of the courtyard was confirmed when I was told that the petals floating on the surface of the water feature were left over from a party given by Mario Testino. Fortunately, I had brought my children with me so that they, in turn, could relate to their grandchildren that they had eaten a hot dog in a courtyard that had some of the detritus left over from a party given by a fashion photographer.

Struggling to regain my composure after being given a tour of Super Mario's left-over petals, I inspected the hot-dog griddle, which is located in a corner of the courtyard. Griddle-like aromas were spiralling up into a sky that was by now rapidly clouding over.

This being a Schrager establishment, one was not limited to fuddy-duddy, boring, sausage-style hot dogs...no sirree. Such a gastroclassic was available to the purist under the heading of Traditional, but, for the adventurous palate, there was the Aberdeen (basically a hot beef sarnie), the Blue Fin (where the roll was filled with grilled loin of tuna), and the Mediterranean (grilled vegetables).

I have to say that the hot dogs were extremely tasty, and they bore about as much resemblance to the stuff served up outside the tourist attractions of London as the Chopped Steak Americain at Le Caprice does to the Big Mac or the Whopper. The bread was toasted on the griddle and had an almost brioche-like quality to it; the relish was tangily sweet; and the ketchup came in dinky little glass jars of the sort normally reserved for portions of marmalade.

After such a repast, it seemed only appropriate to follow up with a range of American puddings: cheesecake (sensationally good) and caramel ice-cream with caramel sauce (almost as good as the cheesecake). Indeed, the way in which the caramel ice-cream arrived - served in a glass sphere that had been cut across one side like those Seventies cocoon chairs - was a treat in itself.

Happily, the coffee was not American, but good, strong, shock-in-a-cup espresso and I was very glad I had it as it prepared me for the shock of the bill. Hot dogs, ice-creams and a few cocktails for four adults and two children came to around £200 - just think of that next time you feel you are getting ripped off by a street vendor.