D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
August 2009
Meals on Wheels
From hot dogs to home-cooked brisket — and even one place that serves veggie burgers — downtown Las Cruces food vendors are on a roll.
By Jeff Berg
Just like in a really big city — think scarfing a hot dog with the works from a steaming cart in midtown Manhattan — grabbing lunch in downtown Las Cruces doesn't have to involve sitting down and ordering from a menu. Thanks to a proliferation of vendors with carts instead of kitchens, you can enjoy a variety of open-air eating adventures, featuring a pleasant variety of taste-bud ticklers.
(Note that, with one tiny exception, these writeups are not intended as reviews of these tiny eating establishments.)
Happy Dog
Happy Dog owner Russ Smith's culinary skills include real hot dogs and real cheeseburgers. His brightly polished and spotless hot dog cart can be found most weekdays, starting at 11 a.m. on the west side of the downtown mall, on Water Street, just across from Zeffiro pizzeria.
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Russ Smith's wife Melody is his backup
at Happy Dog on the rare days he takes off. (Russ Smith photo) |
And I've found a local veggie-burger utopia: Smith serves up one of the yummiest veggie cheeseburgers this side of Johnny Rocket's, a chain of 1950s-style burger palaces scattered worldwide.
Smith, who came to Las Cruces from Seattle eight years ago, has been selling wieners and real cheeseburgers on the street since early 2009. He says, "I saw this show on cable television about hot dog vendors around the country, and took away the observation that food service would allow for a good lifestyle — a good dimension for life and happiness."
A bit of Web-based research, some city permits, and soon Smith and his wife, Melody — his backup for a rare day off — were in the food-service business themselves.
Smith's previous occupations had nothing to do with food, other than lunch breaks. "The aftermath of 9/11 hit Seattle hard," he relates. "I was in the print industry. The country stopped being ambitious, and soon I was out of a job."
Smith is prepping several dogs while we talk — some for a paying customer, some for his mother and sister, who also live in Las Cruces.
His mother was already living here when he lost his job, and invited him to take a look at Las Cruces. "I came down from Seattle, to see what it was like here, and to see if it was worth considering. I liked the diverse cultures and lifestyles," Smith says. "When I first came here, I started a wood and furniture repair business, which led to getting a real estate license."
Things changed somewhat when the economy began to hurt a year or so ago, and the Smiths started planning their food business in late 2008.
My veggie cheeseburger is ready, and I eyeball Smith's range of condiments, which includes good harsh onions and the usual array of such enhancements, alongside a small container of sauerkraut. Even my mother would be impressed.
"We're doing pretty well. I find Las Cruces to be business friendly," says Smith as he preps another burger, each motion fluidly leading to the next.
A wise entrepreneur, Smith has become a fixture at the Las Cruces Farmers Market, and at other events such as June's Gay Pride Picnic and the Fourth of July celebration.
Smith looks across the mostly empty parking lot where he has his cart parked.
"There should be some kind of festival here," he remarks. Possibly one that could sell a couple of hundred hot dogs.
Desert Dogs
The senior wiener vendor in downtown Las Cruces is Desert Dogs, owned and operated by Paul Faulkner. His wife, a professional chef, runs Ono Grindz, which is just down the street from where Faulkner sells tube steaks five days a week.
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Paul Faulkner's Desert Dogs is the
town's senior wiener vendor. |
"This is a 'pop' business," he quips, while prepping his cart for the day's lunch crowd. "It's too small to be a mom-and-pop."
It is not quite 11, and already Faulkner has two regulars on hand waiting for his dogs to be ready and for the chili to be warm.
"I can't even make water boil this morning," Faulkner, slightly frustrated, growls quietly.
His cart gleams in the morning light, and is spotlessly clean. "Custom-made from a place in Miami," he shoots over his shoulder as he sets up his condiments and a drink cooler. Such custom hot-dog wagons range from about $1,900 to $5,800.
Faulkner probably has a good location in terms of shade and comfort, on the street in front of Las Cruces' main post office, under some large trees, but the drive-by traffic might not be as high as rival Happy Dog enjoys. But with so many government buildings under construction in downtown Las Cruces, Desert Dog is not hurting for trade.
"They give me a lot of business," Faulkner agrees. "I've been here for three years. Why did I do this? Because I'm from Jersey, and carts are everywhere. I got out of the Navy on June 18, 2000. I served 20 years and 29 days, but who's counting?"
He goes on to relate how his wife always wanted to open a restaurant, which they did — Joy Luck, a small Chinese establishment on the city's booming east side. They later sold that business and it recently closed — no surprise to Faulkner. He carries on a bit about the failings of the new owners.
Faulkner continues his prep work, changes into a Hawaiian shirt, and is soon ready to serve up the first two chili cheese dogs of the day. "They sell the best."
His wagon is on duty from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekdays, and also sets up at the Farmers Market, for events at the Rio Grande Theater, and the monthly first-Friday gallery ramble.
"I meet a lot of people, and I used to have a map posted on here till the wind took it," Faulkner says. "I had 42 states marked off that I had customers from. Some of them are amazed at how wide-open it is out here. I figured out once that the land mass of New Mexico divided by the land mass of New Jersey would allow 16 New Jerseys to fit inside New Mexico."
Faulkner's menu is only similar to Smith's in that he has hot dogs, chips and soft drinks. In reply to Smith's burgers, Faulkner has bratwurst.
"Nah, I don't do veggie dogs," is the reply to my ever-present question of veggie accommodations. "I think I've had four requests in three years. There is no demand for them, and they are expensive and have lousy shelf life."
Faulkner's water is boiling, the chili is hot, and he lavishes some, along with some cheese, on the first two hot dog orders of the day — served, as he says, through his "micro-man" business.