Have you ever had a dirty water hot dog?

I know I have.

I was in Washing DC and my dad and I decided to tour the distance between the Lincoln Memorial and the United States Capitol Building on foot. We even walked the distance up the White House too.

I remember he found a guy he flew with on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall.

For lunch we stopped at a hot-dog stand and scarfed our food down as we walked. I got a Coke too. It was summer and it was hot and humid.

My mom went on a bus tour that day. She wanted to see the city, but avoid the heat and the walking.

We stayed in a Marriott hotel that night and I went for a swim in the indoor pool.

I’ll never forget that day.

With the hot dog, there was always a feeling of implied consent. We always knew—or assumed—that whatever it was inside that snappy tube, it might contain anything, from 100 percent kosher beef to dead zoo animals or parts of missing Gambino family. With a hot dog, especially New York’s famous “dirty-water hot dog,” there was a tacit agreement that you were on your own. They were pre-cooked, anyway, so how bad could it be?

-Anthony Bourdain, Medium Raw