This weekend, I’m likely to have my last grilled Sahlen’s hotdog for the season–a treat reserved solely for summertime lest it stop becoming a treat. I don’t care what anyone from Syracuse or Utica or Coney Island says, for me, Sahlen’s hotdogs are the indisputable king.

And they deserve the title–not just for flavor but for passing the true test of endurance. There aren’t many family businesses that last more than a century, yet Sahlen’s has thrived for more than 150 years. That means my great-grandparents likely ate a Sahlen’s back in the day. That’s endurance.

And it’s still run by the same family that started it in 1869–this, in a world where food is often mass-produced, or small companies are bought by larger ones. Sahlen’s has held its ground by staying true to a simple recipe that works.

Their hot dogs are symbols of resilience, but also heritage.

Imagine, in 1869, a little butcher shop on Buffalo’s East Side, catering to laborers of the city’s booming industries during the Industrial Revolution. Joseph Sahlen, owner, hot dog creator, and German immigrant, brought with him Old World traditions of smoked meats and sausages. Their shop quickly became known for hearty, affordable meats that served the working class.

Buffalo grew into a shipping and steel powerhouse in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and Sahlen’s grew alongside it. By the turn of the century, their hot dogs were legendary, and could be found at corner stands, baseball games, and local groceries. The product had one unmistakable quality: the natural casing that gives each hot dog its unmistakable “snap.” But it also has a slightly larger size and smoky flavor, which lets you know it’s a Sahlen’s. It wasn’t easy to win over the Buffalo crowd. There have been lots of German butcher shops and lots of sausages to compete with through the years.

So, what makes a product become the legendary hot dog of an entire region? It didn’t hurt that Ted’s famous hotdog stand adopted Sahlen’s as their signature dog in 1927. And Ted’s still operates in nine locations, including Tempe Arizona, and of course, they’re still serving Sahlen’s.

What I love about this story is what it demonstrates about Buffalo and our western region, along with Central New York State. We have a loyalty to things–whether it’s a pin striped cookie, a hotdog, or a brand of chocolate ice cream. And it’s not because we’re afraid to change, it’s because we know when something is good.

Ask a Buffalonian about wings and they’ll tell you exactly where they were invented and why nothing outside the city counts. The same goes for Sahlen’s hot dogs, Chiavetta’s chicken marinade, Weber’s mustard, or Perry’s ice cream — these aren’t just products, they’re part of the fabric of daily life. In a region shaped by immigrant traditions and working-class pride, food became a shorthand for belonging, a way of saying, “We’re from here!” Even when people move away, they ship these flavors across the country or pack them into coolers on road trips home, proof that the taste of Buffalo travels with its people.

I’ve seen Sahlen’s in shops and grocery stores all over Florida, but they’re also shipped to spots in the Caribbean and to South America.

You really have to know how to eat a Sahlen’s. Just like it’s sacrilegious to put ranch dressing on chicken wings, it’s equally as unacceptable to put ketchup on a Sahlen’s. (Save the ketchup for the fries.)

This is the way: blistered, mustard, onion, relish. Period.

Grill just until blistered over charcoal. You’ll know it’s time when the casing crackles. Next, tuck into a lightly toasted bun, and then dress simply but boldly–with a stripe of Weber’s mustard, a scatter of raw onions, and maybe a spoonful of hot or sweet relish, letting the smoky flavor of the dog shine through. Some purists add a dash of Texas hot sauce or even a dash of Chiavetta’s, but the essence remains the same: char, snap, and a balance of tang and crunch that reminds us why Sahlen’s has reigned for generations.

Thanks to a faulty–and now missing–gallbladder, I can’t eat hotdogs anymore without some payback, but this weekend, I’m willing to suffer for the good of the community. And because I’m one of those stubborn people who never gives up on good things.

We declare who we are in Western New York with every vote we cast, every place we patronize, and truly, every bite we eat.

Keep our traditions alive. It’s a good weekend to eat local food. And don’t forget to grab some sponge candy.