Gene & Jude's is one of those places that's been on my visiting home hit list for ages, and I'm not sure why I didn't realize until just this trip that not only is it extremely close to my folks' place, but also open late. Time to right a wrong. Superdawg is a multigenerational family touchstone, so for me there's almost a forbidden fruit aspect to this whole endeavor.
Me: "I'm going out for a hot dog."
Mom: "Superdawg?"
Me: "Nah, I'm going to go check out Gene & Jude's."
Mom: "Oh, Cousin Sam took me there. He said it was the best hot dog in the city."
Me: "What'd you think?"
Mom: "I hated it."
Huh.
Dad: "Where are you headed?"
Me: "Hot dog."
Dad: "Superdawg?"
Me: "Gene & Jude's actually. You been?"
Dad: "I hated it."
Well, at least we have consensus. This is a Superdawg family. I brought my sister for backup, anyway.

Arriving at midnight, the place was almost deserted other than what seemed like nearly a dozen teenage kids running the show, but by the time I'd finished my first dog the counter was nearly full and the line was ten people deep.

Heeding the warning to free the fries while they still have some crispness left, I made a beeline for the counter and unwrapped the dogs. And despite what is apparently my genetic predisposition to the big fella with the pure beef heart (a love I'll defend to the death even if I'm perhaps a little more open to alternatives than the previous generation), put me in the camp that understands the love here. Even setting aside the vibe and my respect for the fact that they basically do three things, the dog is really delicious. Like most folks here, I grew up on these things -- ones other than Superdawg, even (a couple years at DePaul helped to cement a love for the dearly departed Demon Dogs as well) -- and I still don't understand the alchemy involved in getting these just right. It's a dog, a bun, some chopped onion and three bottled condiments. What's to distinguish one place from the next? And yet, when it's on, it's on. And Gene & Jude's was on. Even my sister was fully on board. Apparently laser-focused hot dog preference skips a generation. And the fries were great. I can see how if left in that paper for more than a minute, they could turn to mush, but promptly consumed on the spot they were tender in the middle with just a little crispness around the edges, possessed of an appropriate amount of grease and full of fresh potato flavor. No surprise, given that they'd just been cut.
We brought one back to my sister's place for her husband, originally from Connecticut. After briefly disappearing into the kitchen, he returned exclaiming, "Avert your Chicago eyes!" and proceeded to squirt a quarter cup of cold Heinz onto the dog. If I read in today's paper that Gene & Jude's was inexplicably reduced to a smoldering pile of ash in the night, we'll know who to blame.
Dominic Armato
Dining Critic
The Arizona Republic and
azcentral.com