Dogmatic’s spin is that they serve guilt-free (no antibiotics, no artificial ingredients, blah blah blah) sausages cleverly packed into baguettes that you can walk around and eat. It’s pretty clever, they found a way to make sure that bit of ketchup or cabbage doesn’t fall off your hotdog and into your lap, or onto your hands. Seriously, why hasn’t anyone else thought of this? NASA, are you hiring?

The menu is simple (and they get kudo’s for focusing so intently on sandwiches): you pick a sausage (chicken, pork, beef, lamb or asparagus[?]) and a sauce (there are 6). That’s it. They have drinks and ice cream too. They cook up your wiener, add some sauce and put it in a handy bread holder. They’re cheap too, a single sausage runs $4.50 before tax ($4.88 after). That’s recession-friendly!

All is rosy for Dogmatic: they’ve got a clever name, a sleek new storefront and a good NYC-friendly pitch. There’s only one problem: the sausages are bland. I tried the beef sausage with cheddar jalapeno sauce and it tasted like jalapeno, not sausage. I closed my eyes and went to my power cave to erase all distractions about the US economy imploding and fully taste the meat. It was hard. It tasted like seasonings and cheesy peppers. It was quite dry, which the cheese helped. About 2/3rd the way through, the cheese that had settled at the closed end started shooting back up at me. Avoiding the obvious innuendo, it was a little unsettling and gross. Then it shot out the other end. Thank god it was delicious jalapeno cheddar.

With all the buzzwords they managed to cram into a single sausage joint, I expected them to taste like little bits of mana from heaven: it turns out that all the good intentions in the world don’t mean jack if your sausage is bland. Next time, spend some time on the actual food and less on the buzz, design and little carry-out bags. I’d go back if I was hungry, but I wouldn’t get excited or take friends or bother with my power cave. How long until someone solves the spread build-up and offers regular hotdogs in this shape?

Not many not spectacular ingredients:

Cute packaging:

See the little guy poking out?

This is as close to food-porn as we can legally get without a disclaimer:

You can almost SEE the dryness:

It’s jalapeno cheddar!

I split the “Picante,” upon the recommendation from the sandwich ambassador from Spain behind the counter, and the “El Quijote” with my co-eater. Both are served on slightly dusty, delicious bread. They both include a full arsenal of magic Spanish foodstuffs:
Picante (warm): Chorizo picante, Mahon cheese, Basque guindilla peppers, tomatoes and ali oli
El Quijote (cold): Lomo embuchado (dry cured pork loin), Manchego cheese, Quince cream “Membrillo” spread and olive oil

Hands down the warm Picante was better. It was a bit peppery and some of the bites of Chorizo were chewy, but the whole thing was so warm and complementary that I can’t complain too much. The Quijote was too chewy and didn’t have enough fillings and I was sad after eating a few bites. In both cases, I was surprised at how well the sandwiches were balanced; though the bread was a little tough, there was no filling creep! Hats off to these sandwich-masters for realizing that everything inside should be flat.

My Picante, dusy, warm and full of love:

Look inside! See the tasty!?

Mrrhrmrmmmmmm

Readers, this is Quijote. Quijote, say hello:

They’re that easy:

• Hot Italian Sausages, from a local butcher
• Onions marinated
• Soft hot dog roll
• Deli mustard

Grill the sausages until they’re cooked throughout. Pan fry the onions until crinkly and brown. Place both in a soft roll, doctored on one side with plenty of mustard. Enjoy!