A good thing Heinz gets back into mustard – would we want company known for catsup in top hot dog town?

When I read reports about how Kraft Heinz has plans to move one of its corporate offices into Chicago proper, I couldn’t help but think about the company’s efforts to bolster the amount of yellow mustard it manufactures.



Will she be favorite hot dog condiment?

Would we really want to be the home base of a company known for catsup – in light of the fact that many of us Chicagoans find that condiment so repulsive on our take on hot dogs?

FOR THE RECORD, Heinz has long manufactured mustard. But they focused their efforts on making the condiment for sale to food service buyers. You could put Heinz mustard on your food at the local diner or at the ballpark.

But try going to the grocery store, and you’d find shelves filled with French’s mustard; along with various brands of gourmet mustard for those who look down on anything colored yellow.

That is until this year, when Kraft Heinz decided to start selling its mustard products for retail. I’m sure many of us have seen the television commercials where Heinz catsup brings along Heinz mustard, making the previously-available brand all jealous to the point where she blows her stack (and yellow goop gets squirted all over the place).

Now, the Chicago Tribune reports that Kraft Heinz will move one of its corporate headquarters from the suburb of Northfield to Chicago proper – specifically at the Aon Center, 200 E. Randolph St.

CORPORATE EMPLOYEES WILL have a wonderful view of the Millennium Park that I’m sure will make the Chicago office the desirable place of employment (who in their right mind would rather work in an office in Pittsburgh?) within the corporate structure.

As far as Chicago’s public persona is concerned, this is a good thing.

Because while I don’t deny that Chicagoans consume catsup (way too much, I personally find that condiment repulsive and don’t put it on anything I eat), I wouldn’t want it to become one of those products that Rahm Emanuel sees the need to include whenever he makes a bet with another mayor whenever one of our professional sports franchises plays against another for some sort of championship.

Now if we can claim in those bets that we’re putting up Chicago-style hot dogs coated in part with Heinz mustard, that would make it all the more appropriate.



A personal favorite

AND IF IT adds to the corporate image that Chicago likes to offer (being able to attract top companies from around the globe, as opposed to rinky-dink companies that move to places like Indiana), then the city benefits in more ways than one.

It’s just a shame that the city’s leadership can’t be as concerned with bolstering the neighborhood public image as it is that of downtown. But that’s a problem that goes back generations before Emanuel came to office.

So back to mustard, since there will now be a major brand that will have a Chicago association, just as we now claim that the only legitimate hot dog is one of the Vienna Beef brand (although personally, I prefer the hot dogs made by the Bobak Sausage Co. on Archer Avenue).

Although I’m not a total snob on the hot dog question.

FOR AS OFTEN as I have a hot dog minus catsup that contains all the ingredients that turn two wieners into a meal, there also are times when I’m just as likely to give a hot dog some onions (usually raw) and a squirt of mustard.

For those nights when a hot dog just won't cut it

Now, by using the Heinz brand, I can claim to have a truly Chicago “experience” even when I’m doing nothing more than munching on something to tide my appetite when I don’t have time for a full meal.

Like a Chicago-style pan pizza (which I actually had for dinner Wednesday night). As for whether the thin-crust pizza is a more legitimate culinary experience, that is a debate for a future commentary.

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We in Chicago ought to applaud the idea of “mustard-only” hot dog vendor

If either of our professional ball clubs had any sense, they’d figure out a way to make Charley Marcuse a part of their ballpark atmosphere.

He’s not capable of pitching 200 innings, playing a stellar shortstop or depositing fly balls into the outfield seats on a regular basis. He wouldn’t help the on-field activity.

BUT HIS HIRING would make a statement totally in character with the ethos of our home city – or at least the way we’d like to think of ourselves.

Marcuse is a hot dog vendor. Or at least he was until this week. Since 1999, he has worked concessions at Detroit Tigers baseball games. He’s one of those guys roaming through the stands with a metal box – selling you overpriced hot dogs to munch on while you watch a ballgame.

His particular schtick that made him stand out was as the “Singing” vendor. He’d sing out his cry for people to buy hot dogs as though he were parodying an operatic singer.

But that’s not why he ought to come to Chicago. In fact, I suspect if he did set foot inside a Chicago ballpark, he’d come across as being more annoying than Ronnie Wickers, the “Woo Woo” man in the stands at Wrigley Field.

WHAT MAKES MARCUSE stand out in my mind that he believes hot dogs are meant to be served with mustard. He is known for letting people who ask for ketchup on their ballpark hotdog just how little he thinks of them.

In fact, it seems that attitude is what caused Sportservice (which handles concessions at Detroit’s Comerica Park) to let Marcuse go. Friday’s Tigers game against the Kansas City Royals was the first since 1999 where he wasn’t present.

The Detroit News reported that “general employee conduct” was the reason Marcuse was given for losing his job. Although speculation is that it was his “no ketchup” attitude – which some fans have said on various Internet sites was so over the top that he came across as intimidating to fans.

Which reminds me of the one-time “Andy the Clown” who used to roam the stands at old Comiskey Park – using his loud, piercing voice to be able to shout cheers over the din of the ballpark crowd. Some fans hated having to be the one sitting near where he stood because he could be that loud.

OTHERS FOUND HIM to be part of the atmosphere of the old ballpark that never carried over to the structure now known as U.S. Cellular Field.

Now in writing this commentary, I don’t seriously expect Marcuse to relocate his life from Michigan to the greater Chicago area just to take a job as a hot dog vendor.

Hot dog lovers to an extreme in L.A.

But the whole idea of someone willing to take a stand for the lack of ketchup (which I personally don’t put on anything I eat) is something I wouldn’t mind seeing promoted. Even though I realize that the vendors at our own ballparks don’t offer ketchup (you have to go to one of the stands underneath the seats if you want it).

A no-ketchup vendor who’s proud of it would be a kick – even if it were just to last for a day.

BESIDES, IT'S ONE of the quirks of Michigan that Marcuse has actually developed his own brand of mustard that can be bought in assorted stores and served in some area restaurants.

Perhaps a Chicago stint could help him expand his market. At the very least, it would appease those people who get all worked up over the genuine “Chicago dog.”

Although I’ve always found a hot dog with mustard and onion to be an adequate edible item.

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EDITOR'S NOTE: For anybody who thinks crusading against ketchup on a hot dog is silly, keep in mind that it makes more sense than anybody who can't envision the Wrigley Field baseball experience without an Old Style-brand beer.