As we race to the end of National Hot Dog Month, we should all raise a bottle of mustard to Joey Chestnut, who on July 4 kept the Nathan's Famous hot dog eating championship title in the U.S. by defeating six-time winner Takeru Kobayashi of Japan.

Can someone's life be defined by a food? Mr. Chestnut's is now. Even though he earlier won the Wing Bowl by scarfing down buffalo wings, he will always be the hot dog champ.

As for your humble "Dine Quixote" here, to be called a "hot dog" at one time in my life while pushing through a crowd just made me hungry. Because when it comes to hot dogs, wieners, franks and the legendary "tube steak," I am always hungry. Would I risk my life for a hot dog? My faithful Sherri Panza will swear that I did so a few weeks ago when I put the Volvo into a controlled skid to cut across U.S. Route 22 in New Jersey to reach a Stewart's Root Beer emporium.

Growing up I was not one of those kids whose parents worried about what went into hot dogs. One of my first food memories, and not one of which I am particularly proud, is asking my father to peel the casing off the frank at Nathan's in Coney Island. For a 5-year-old, the thought of biting into something that tried to snap back was a bit unnerving. Now, though, with more than 50 years under my belt, the casing makes the dog.

So many dogs, so little time

There are so many kinds of dogs and so many places to find them. You've got your white hots in Rochester, N.Y.; your New Jersey rippers (deepfried in oil until the dog splits); coneys in Detroit; Chicago dogs in, well, where else; and Italian dogs, resting in a hoagie roll and hidden by fried peppers and onions and potatoes in Newark, N.J.

I know that my family's eating habits have been directed by my desire to try every one possible. My son recently called to tell me about finding in Manhattan a deep-fried hot dog wrapped in bacon and topped with red kimchee puree, since he knew that I had chowed down on regular kimchee dogs in Toronto.

Oh, the tales of those dogs! Perhaps the best bonding experience I had with my father was the night I was standing on a stool behind the counter of his Dayton, Ohio, pharmacy, counting pills from a large bottle and putting them into small boxes. I won't tell you how young I was, but it was an early evening and he made a telephone call and moments later here came Pete, and I knew him only as Pete, the Greek owner of Pedro's Chili House next door. He had a plate with the smallest hot dogs I had ever seen, covered with his special soupy chili. It was my first experience with the affinity Ohio Greeks had with chili and an experience I would repeat in Dayton, Cincinnati and Toledo, where Rudy's, a Greek joint, did battle for my hot dog dollars with the legendary Tony Packo's Hungarian hot dogs -- of "M• A• S• H" fame.

Chili on frankfurters was something I had never seen in New York City, where my grandfather and I used to have lunch down the street from Willoughby Camera, where he worked on 32nd Street with a view of Madison Square Garden at one end and Leo's hot dogs at the other. What made Leo's palatable to my grandfather was that they were Hebrew National and definitely kosher. Topped with sauerkraut and bolstered by a cold drink of pineapple juice, they were a great way to visit with the man who got me into the photo business. Alas, like most of my New York, the storefront is now empty.

The next wave of pooch parlors includes Gray's Papaya, Papaya Dog and a burgeoning group of imitators. It's dogs and kraut and/or onion sauce and a choice of very sweet fruit drinks for less than $4. Of course, it used to be less than $3, but they still are a bargain.

I'm not a fan of New York City's famous hot dog carts. Hot water dogs? Not unless you are really and truly hungry. But for my landlady from many years ago, a post-World War II German refugee, the hot water dogs meant life. They survived not on the wursts but on "hot dog soup," the water in which the sausages had been boiled.

Oh hot dog, how much do I love thee?

One reason for choosing my first job in Troy, N.Y., was because a couple of blocks away was Hot Dog Charlie's, known for its tiny dogs, Greek sauce, mustard and onion. No matter that it was once known as "the Hairy Arm," because the buns and dogs were racked from wrist to elbow before being blessed with the accoutrements.

Today, my city is Pittsburgh, which has lost some landmarks (such as Yovi's Downtown) but still has a number of good hot dog emporiums, such as Weiner World, Downtown, and of course the Original Hot Dog Shop in Oakland. I have not had a bad frank yet, but for the perfect atmosphere I gravitate to the Red Caboose on Route 51 in Rostraver. Eating their franks at a picnic table while looking at the scenery makes me wonder if there are hot dogs in heaven.

I know that for some, hot dogs are low class -- something to be frightened of. And yet hot dogs often seem to be the bond between family and friends, remembered far longer than the pasta salad at a picnic.

Even if you like hot dogs, and especially if you love them, they also can be divisive. You rush to tell your friends frankly about your latest find. Not everyone will agree with you, because taste and temperament and history all play a part for the dedicated hot dog-tective.

My daughter called from New York the other day to tell me that she finally had gotten to taste a Nathan's frank at Coney Island and "the chili and cheese made it really tasty." At that point more than 50 years of hot dogs rolled over in my belly. "What do you mean chili and cheese?" I yelled. "What about the kraut and mustard?"

"Next time, dad," she said. "And I'll get the fries, too!"

SPICY PEPPER GLAZE

PG tested

This recipe, originally developed as a final glaze for grilled skewered chunks of chicken, just happened to be sitting next to the grill and I dropped a wood-grilled hot dog into the bowl. And just like the accidental Use care in handling hot peppers. Do not touch your eyes after touching them and you may wish to wear gloves.

-- Larry Roberts

• 2 cups boiling water
• 6 to 8 dried ancho peppers
• 1 dried guajillo pepper
• 1 teaspoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup minced white onion
• 1 1/2 cups of honey
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

In a small pan or bowl, pour boiling water over dried peppers and let soak until soft. Reserve liquid.

Rip open peppers and remove and discard seeds, ribs and stems. Strain the pepper liquid into a measuring cup.

Puree the peppers with the liquid in a blender.

In a small sauce pan over low heat, sweat the onions in olive oil until soft.

Add to the onions the pepper mixture, honey, salt and Worcestershire sauce.

Bring to boil.

Reduce heat and cook on medium heat until reduced by 1/3 to 1/2 (taste to check heat level).

Cool and brush onto hot dogs.

Serving suggestion: Pile finely chopped sour pickles and raw onion onto the dogs.

-- Larry Roberts