D ogged determination ; Leadbelly Boys bust buns in their search for area's top hot dog

• Published in: Dayton daily news (Dayton, Ohio. 1987)
• Main Author: the Leadbelly Boys (Ron Rollins, Ray Marcano and Jim Dillon) Dayton Daily News
• Format: Newspaper Article
• Language: English
• Published: Dayton, Ohio Atlanta Journal Constitution, LLC 13.07.2005
• Subjects: Dillon, Jim; Heller, Ann; Ray, Sez; Rollins, Ron
• ISSN: 0897-0920

THE FOLLOWING CONVERSATION REALLY HAPPENED: Phone rings. "Dayton Daily News, Features Desk." Man on other end: "Ann Heller, please?" "I'm sorry, sir, you just missed her. Can I take a message?" "Well, I'd like to see if she could come and review my restaurant." "I'm sure she'd be happy to hear about it. What kind is it?" Man on other end (proudly): "It's a hot-dog stand!" "Um. Well, let me get the name, OK? But I can't promise if she'll get out there or not." "Yeah, I understand. Maybe she wouldn't want to do a hot-dog stand. Hey, are one of those Fatbelly Boys there? They're really who I want to talk to." "Um, you got one right here." "Really? Which one?" "Brother Ron. Where's your place?" "Five-twenty Wilmington Ave." "Oh, Pug's?" Man on other end (very, very proudly, now): "Yes! You know it?" "Sure, I drive by all the time. We were kinda thinking of stopping by." "Oh, that'd be great! You'll love it." "I'm sure we will. We were gonna try to slip in unnoticed." "I don't think that works with you fellas." "Um. Well, anyway, who's Pug?" "Why, that's my dog! Pugsley!" Sure enough, you can see Pugsley's furry little mug on the front of the menus at Pug's Dog House, the place where they advertise, "Bringing a little bit of Chicago to Dayton," and where, indeed, they are very proud of their dogs. They're also pretty proud of 'em on Courthouse Square downtown, where you can't order anything from the Red Canopy stand without the server barking, "Hey, man, how was that? Good?" And they really want to know. They're right darn proud of their food at Wot-a-Dog Drive In in New Carlisle, too, where the root beer is foamy and the coney sauce is as hoppin' as the hustling carhops. You'd be wise, whether you're a downtowner or not, to stop by Flying Dog at Riverscape MetroPark. It's got a great lineup of dogs to choose from -- Brother [Ron Rollins] dug into a tasty, creamy slaw dog, and Brother Ray enjoyed the zingy chili on the coney -- and while you eat you can watch kids cavorting in the fountain, enjoy the Wright brothers sculpture across the street or catch a nifty view of the skyline. This was one of the pleasant surprises of our adventure -- even though we'd been to RiverScape, we had somehow missed the Flying Dog (look for the funny logo of the pooch with a propeller beanie on his head). Don't make the same mistake we did! Go! (Flying Dog, 138 E. Monument Ave., 281-1333.) Like we said earlier, [Chuck Rasnic] and his wife Pam are rightfully proud of their eatery, one of the few restaurants in town that likes hot dogs enough to make 'em the main draw, the be-all-and-end-all, the raison d'etre ... But we digress. They do a nice job in the House of Pugsley (remember him?), which is tucked into a little Wilmington Avenue shopping strip close enough to UD to attract students and which is decorated with Chicago memorabilia to remind diners of the Windy City's role in dog worship. The Pug's City Dog is a fun item, the complete Chicago -- mustard, relish, onion, peppers, tomato and pickle spear for $2.25. The Chicago Polish works well, too, thanks to a dash of celery salt -- which you'll also get on the french fries, a tasty addition. Nuthin' wrong with the basic chili-cheese dog here, either. We liked Pug's. (Pug's Dog House, 520 Wilmington Ave., 253-5301).