This piece originally appeared in SAVEUR’s Spring/Summer 2025 issue. See more stories from Issue 204 here.

While plenty still serve hot dogs, it’s rare that the frankfurter is more than an afterthought. A dedicated few, though, remain all in on the humble dog, despite increasing competition, a recent crackdown on unlicensed hawkers, and a black market that has raised the typical vendor permit fee for a spot in Central Park to $250,000 per year. (It’s no wonder the city’s average hot dog price has climbed to $4).

Serving every corner of the city, many of these hot dog die-hards have been in business for 30 years or more. And while most still serve classic all-beef Sabrett franks simmered in “dirty” water—­seasoned with closely guarded secrets—each brings their own twist. Whether it’s for their old-school allure, homemade chili, or a coveted sauerkraut recipe, these vendors are worth seeking out in the city—before they’re gone for good. 

Islam seems less proud of his hot dogs than he is of the Midtown locale he’s occupied since 1994: “No one bothers me here,” he says. His might be the only cart you’ll come across for blocks, and the only one in New York City that looks the way it does—decked out with Coca-Cola ads.

This aptly named vendor (“Like franks? Like hot dogs? It was in the stars, I guess,” he says.) has been stationed outside the art museum since 1979. Frank’s onions may be the best in the city—he coats them in a secret spice mix and ­simmers them for hours before piling them atop his dogs.

This Dominick’s Hot Dogs truck has been parked outside St. John Cemetery in Rego Park since 1959. Angelina, who’s been serving dogs here “all her life,” says, “People say they wish they had family buried here so they could get hot dogs more often.” Order a frank smothered in black bean chili.

Skippy’s was founded on this Staten Island block by Dawn’s grandfather in 1962. While the original truck perished during Hurricane Sandy in 2012, the third-generation vendor is back—if on her own capricious schedule—serving one of the most sought-after (and elusive) hot dogs in the city.

Standing in the same spot since 1990 and surrounded by other carts, Eddie knows how to handle the competition: “Whenever I feel boxed in, I put up a sign for 99-cent dogs,” he says. “A line forms within minutes.” His “Zing Dog” is loaded with homemade chili, onion, and yellow mustard.

Stationed in front of MSG since 1984, Chris expects he’ll retire soon; his cart is surrounded by pigeons, the traffic is deafening, and the competition is fierce. Still, the lines of visitors keep him going, and he’ll miss the work when he finally hangs up the tongs, he says. “It’s been my life.”

Googling “best hot dog cart N.Y.C.” will lead you straight to Billy, who worked for Sabrett in the ’70s and has been on this corner since 1994. (He’s recently become something of a TikTok celeb.) On the weekends, lines wrap around the block for a $2.00 dog, but on the weekdays, it’s a steady stream of locals with running tabs in search of his boiled dog loaded with red onions and kraut. 

“People drive from all over the tristate area to get my onions,” Smitty says from behind his mustache. Well, Smitty’s actual name is Don—Smitty was the guy who originally bought the cart 35 years ago. “I kept [the name] because I figured people would rather have a ‘Smitty Dog’ than a ‘Don Dog,’” he laughs. Smitty’s (Don’s?) cart has been slinging “secret onion dogs”—with homemade fries—in this Ozone Park spot since 1964.

Located at the base of the Met is Dan, perhaps better known as the “Hot Dog King of New York.” Dan is a Vietnam veteran and former helicopter repairman, which is important for two reasons: The city gives lower permitting fees to vets, which has helped him keep his prime museum-front real estate, and he’s built all of his carts by hand—in fact, he first got into the hot dog business in the ’80s building carts for other vendors.