Bigly Pigs in a Blanket

Listen. We need to talk about the pig in a blanket. There is no appetizer — no appetizer in the HISTORY of appetizers — that has done more for the human race. A small sausage. Wrapped in dough. Baked until golden. Dipped in mustard. The whole thing fits in one bite. WHO designed this? WHO? It's a masterclass. It's the iPhone of appetizers, except better, because you can eat it, and you cannot eat an iPhone, although people have tried, the internet is a strange place.

I've eaten pigs in a blanket in every state. Twice. I had a version at a backyard graduation party in Ohio in 1987 — and don't ask me how I remember that, I just do, the great ones stay with you — that I think about to this day. The hostess used cocktail franks, the real ones, and brushed the dough with butter, and the moment I bit into it I understood. I UNDERSTOOD. I went home that night a changed combover. Most chefs are afraid to do this trick. They take a giant hot dog, they cut it into stumpy little pieces, they call it a day. A disgrace to the pig. A disgrace to the blanket. Embarrassing.

My version — the Bigly version — uses real cocktail franks, brushed with melted butter, sprinkled with everything bagel seasoning, and served with a tremendous hot honey mustard. People bite into one and they freeze. Literally freeze. Like a glitch in the matrix. Big strong men, tough guys with the tears in the eyes, come up to me at the appetizer table and say 'Bigly, you've changed me forever,' and I just nod, because I have, I've changed them, that's what I do.

Pile them on a platter. Tall pile, ambitious pile, the kind of pile that says 'I respect my guests.' Put the mustard dipping sauce right next to it. Step back. Watch the room. Within ninety seconds the platter will be half gone, within three minutes it will be a memory, and your guests will be looking at you like you've just performed a magic trick. You have. It's called caring about the details. That's how we do it here. Tremendous.