I’ve always called it a “Michigan” but in Michigan, they’ve always called it a “Coney Island”.   Weird, right?  Whatever you call it, America’s iconic hot dog is a must when visiting the midwestern state.

Smothered with seasoned ground meat sauce and yellow mustard and onions, the junk food eased our cravings after skipping breakfast for an early morning flight from Albany to Detroit Metro.  (Go Delta for woo-ing us with cheap tickets!)

Slathered in house-made ingredients – the combos at the American Dog House (inside the Henry Ford Museum) have probably never won any prizes, but, none-the-less, the staff who prepare them are award-winning.

The ladies ditched their places behind the counter to pose for my camera while holding their signature foot-longs bedded inside a box-shaped Skyline convertible.   The woman on the left, with her eyes closed, insisted we take a couple bags of complimentary potato chips and a chocolate chip cookie.   They were too kind.

Geo ordered up two –  one with chili – hold the onions – peppers, pickle spear and celery seed salt on a poppy seed bun (called The Chicago) and another with melted cheese whiz and nachos.   S0mehow I had the inner strength to deny my tastebuds with an organic falafel on a toasted bun.

Apropos of the location, we ate our franks next to the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile on display when you first enter the museum.

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