By now you’ve probably heard about this monstrosity they’ll be selling at Chase Field during the 2014 season, which looks like a urologist’s worst nightmare but will probably create a lot more work for cardiologists in the greater Phoenix area. Inside that fried cornmeal and flour batter mixture is some cheese, jalapenos and bacon, as well as enough hot dog meat to turn your blood type to Sodium Nitrite. To ensure that the meal isn’t too one-note, the cardboard container also carries fries, chipotle ketchup and spicy mustard.
“This is really about providing our fans with new options each year and in the case of some of our larger items, it’s really about sharing with the family,” said Arizona Diamondbacks president Derrick Hall.
Hall’s quote came from a prepared statement, but the underlying message is this:
If you don’t eat the entire thing yourself, you’re a total wuss. And not a big wuss either. You can’t even succeed at getting fat. Instead of morbidly obese, you’re just moderately obese. Wuss.
C’mon, if they really meant for three people to share this thing, they’d make six-inch versions and sell them for $8 or $9. They created this grease baton to generate publicity, but part of the fascination comes from people imagining whether or not they could consume the whole thing in one sitting. The first I heard of the D-Bat was on Tuesday, when the “Burns” half of the “Burns and Gambo” radio show said he was going to try to eat one for charity, then he quickly reversed course and promised to give money to charity if a fan could put down all 18 inches in 15 minutes.
Since Arizona doesn’t really have any specific cuisine they’re known for — besides maybe a hybrid of the Mexican food you can get in California and Tex-Mex — the D-Bat Dog’s ingredients do a decent job representing what their food is all about.
On Mar. 26, they’ll have a Media Open House at AT&T Park where they’ll debut whatever new food items you’ll be able to buy at Giants games during the 2014 season. Last year there was poutine, sliders and some sort of green-tortilla’d wraps I avoided. I’m going to attend, because I’ll be back home in San Francisco by then and they’ll be serving free food there.
I’m assuming none of the new items will have that “if you don’t consume the entire thing yourself you’re a gigantic wuss” message, but let’s say they go that route. What kind of items could AT&T sell that would have that city-by-the-bay flair while possibly lowering your lifespan by at least six months and potentially much longer? Here are some ideas.
People in San Francisco love Sushirrito, because it combines their love of sushi and Mexican food you’d never find in Mexico. But how about a Sushirrito that’s 18 inches long?
First, it’s a direct competitor with the D-Bat Dog in terms of size. Second, you’re a total badass because it comes with a fist-size globule of wasabi and sits on a bed of edamame. Mmmm … salt-sprinkled soybeans.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: C’mon tough guy/gal, don’t share this with your significant other. Eat the whole thing, then drink a beverage. Then let the rice soak up whatever liquid you swallow, and watch your stomach rapidly expand to the size of Pablo Sandoval’s in 2013!
It seems like everyone in San Francisco is cleansing these days. But what’s the fun in limiting yourself to blended carrots, apples, kale and blueberries if you’re limiting yourself to a glass every two hours or whatever?
With AT&T Park’s new gallon-sized jug ‘o’ juice that’s full of fruits and vegetables from their sustainable garden* in centerfield, you can do a week’s worth of cleansing during the time it takes to watch one baseball game.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: Don’t consume anything else before or after the game. Come in empty-stomached, leave with a gut full of juice. There’s nothing to lose but your sanity!
*Is the garden still a thing? I haven’t heard anything in a while, and I’m still wondering if Barack Obama was playing a prank on us last year when the Giants visited the White House.
San Franciscans love grilled cheese sandwiches. Especially grilled cheese sandwiches with the word “artisan” attached. Multiple “artisans”? Even better. “Mmmm, this sandwich on artisan bread with artisan manchego, artisan old-growth cheddar and artisan pickled arugula is TO DIE FOR.”
But what about flipping the concept on its head? That’s right, a grilled cheese sandwich with two thick layers of melted cheese on the OUTSIDE, surrounding one piece of artisan bread. That way the sandwich’s gluten factor gets cut in half, which is another huge advantage in the ever-changing San Francisco foodie scene.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: You could eat this sandwich with a knife and fork, but a REAL grilled cheese aficionado would grab this sandwich and get his/her hands cheesy. So what if the cheese is still bubbling and you’ll burn your sensitive little fingers? Your skin will grow back. Probably.
We sure do love our clam chowder, and even though it’s not a dish anyone nearby wants to smell at a baseball game, who cares? It’s your $12, and you’re going to buy that breadbowl full of chowder and savor it in the bleachers, even if neighboring fans are giving you the same looks you shot at your coworker when he microwaved leftover cod in the staff break room.
This time, ditch the bread bowl and eat your soup in one of those huge orange hulk fists. The fist’s opening will be bigger than usual, because the customary 16-oz beer size just won’t do. You need a veritable vat of chowder, and if any visiting fans give you the Marvin Benard-trademarked “stankeye,” flip that baby over and dump the last bits of soggy clam and potato on their heads, because that’s what Buster Posey would’ve wanted.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: Don’t eat this with a spoon. This is all about you, your hand-and-wrist-covering Hulk fist, and your mouth. Don’t be shy, either. Get your face in there. It’s not like anyone’s going to kiss you anyway after those garlic fries you devoured in the first inning.
Pretty self-explanatory: it’s the same delicious IT’S-IT ice cream sandwich you always try to get whenever you’re at the corner store, but it’s about the same diameter as an extra-large pizza. Available in vanilla, chocolate, mint and cappuccino.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: You can’t just greed-gorge yourself without sharing (that goes without saying). You’ve got to scarf this thing down with the quickness so it doesn’t melt all over your lap. Who cares if giant shards of chocolate fall off the sides; one of the best parts about attending a ballgame is dropping the remnants of whatever you’re eating on the ground. And don’t let the naysayers fool you, ice cream headaches are loads of fun!
It’s hard to think of anything better than 64 ounces of high-octane India Pale Ale to settle one’s stomach and make a game full of replay challenges and pitching changes just breeze on by. And since Russian River Brewery is SO GOOD at keeping plenty of Pliny in stock throughout the Bay Area and the rest of our great nation, AT&T Park should have no trouble whatsoever filling up enough growlers for everyone.
Underlying “you’re a wuss if you don’t consume this correctly” element: In America, as long as you have a designated driver (or Uber), everything’s cool, man. Don’t share this liquid gold with anyone else, just drink, drink, (burp) drink, drink, (buuuurrrrrpppp) drink** until the growler is done and don’t look back. Don’t run onto the field of play, either. Or streak. Or do both at the same time.
**BASG, LLC reminds you to always drink responsibly … and who knows, maybe the Giants can swap out that growler of Pliny for a 64-oz thermos of Blue Bottle or Four Barrel coffee.