There is a joke that asks, "What's the difference between a Yankee dog and a Fenway Frank?" to which the answer is "You can get a Yankee dog in October." Now that's not funny anymore for a variety of reasons (Boy, Ortiz has grown a little from his Minnesota days, hasn't he? I hope that sheath is healing, Papi. Too bad George Mitchell wasn't a partner with the Yankees, huh?).

I don't know about Fenway Franks, but as of recently, Yankee dogs suck and are more overrated than our shortstop. I've always been partial to the Lobo dogs sold at The Pit on the campus of the University of New Mexico, anyway.

The hidden gem of the Big Ballpark in the Bronx are the Chicken Fingers (and the guy that keeps our seats clear, more on him later). The past few times I've been to the Stadium, there's nothing that settles me after riding like livestock on the 4 Train from Grand Central than those delicious Chicken Fingers.

To be honest I'm guessing that I'm not really breaking new ground here because the fingers come out piping hot. I figure enough people are buying them to keep them coming. I mean, I was able to find a picture of them on the Internet, (and the Times did a story on them) so some folks are obviously taking notice.

The serving size is huge, consisting of five fingers (just like Rick James) and a mess of thick-cut French fries. My fellow taste tester said she'd like the fries to be a little saltier.

The only downfall is that they're (surprise!) a bit pricey, coming in at $10 for a plate. But for that $10, you end up getting pretty full. Save room for the cotton candy. Don't get me started, I could write another post on how great the cotton candy at that place is.

The Chicken Fingers are available at most stands around the ballpark and of course, the Johnnie Walker Pinstripe Pub*.

*Located on the Field Level at Sec. 10, the Johnnie Walker Pinstripe Pub is an informal restaurant open to members and their guests. It opens with the gates and closes at the end of the seventh inning.

Labels: Food, Yankees