“Bacon” was the immediate draw, and anything after that was gravy. The only thing missing from this latest ballpark cuisine assault on common sense was, in fact, gravy.
In the name of research and science, I ventured deep into the concession area at Surprise Stadium to sample the Hot Dog Wrapped in Bacon and a Cheesburger. If if you think The Triple Play Dog sounds offensive, wait ‘til you taste it.
For only $8.50, and the trip to Surprise, you too can enjoy something that, the sign says, has only 850 calories. I do wonder if listing the calories on such items has ever stopped someone from indulging in anything — if you have thought about eating it, you’re already gone. It’s going down.
Ballparks, including the Texas Rangers, are now creating these high-calorie delights that are normally reserved for the novelty of a State Fair. The Triple Play Dog is one cheeseburger too far.
Never miss a local story.
As a passionate defender of caloric bombs and the myriad of creative culinary creations stadiums are routinely inventing to make money, we must simply stop. Someone is going to die from one of these. It’s just a matter of time before someone drops dead after eating The Deep Fried-Cherry Pop Tart-Twinkie-Bacon Cheeseburger Beer Battered Brat; actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.
If, however, this extreme preventative measure requires the elimination of bacon this mandate can be modified to “Just slow down, but keep the bacon.”
It has been repeatedly proven that anything can be wrapped in bacon, up to and including protein bars and diet pills.
A bacon-wrapped hotdog with cheese is, on the surface, disgusting. Now add a cheeseburger around it and sprinkle some shredded cheese with onions and this is a whole new neighborhood of self-hatred.
The first bite went off about like you would imagine – an attack on the taste buds where you think, “My God - I think I just ate a cheeseburger, and a hot dog. With bacon. All in the same bite."
That can’t be right, even if it historically accurate.
After the second bite I immediately jotted down a will.
And then came the third bite, which I washed down with Diet Coke; I didn’t want the extra calories. By now I had resigned myself that a fire hose-powered shower would be immediately required after completing my latest horrible decision in eating.
The best part is that I actually eschewed the bun. Because the bun is the problem.
I finished this disaster and then, much like Captain Kirk looking at an exploding Starship Enterprise that he deliberately destroyed, asked, “My God, Bones, what have I done?”
Dare to watch this YouTube video to understand the full force of the impact of finishing a hot dog wrapped in a cheeseburger and bacon with cheese:
Because I needed to burn the calories I passed on the elevator ride down from the second floor to the first floor, and immediately the regret settled in like a warm Krispy Kreme with a chocolate milk chaser.
Even in the name of science, why did I think this was a good idea? Why did anyone think this was a good idea?
Ponder this — this dish is the creation of at least one email and at least one meeting of more than one person. This is like a bunch of Hollywood producers demanding, “Listen, ‘Weekend At Bernies II’ is happening.”
If we are what we eat, then I am a hot dog wrapped in a cheeseburger and bacon sprinkled with cheese, but not the bun.