I went to that hotdog joint afterall. It turns out, it's really a cornedbeef joint. Sweet. Just a sandwich cost me to the tune of seven dollars. Damn good. In it's entirety it was storebought sliced rye bread, mustard and, reasonably enough, cornedbeef. The kicker: there must've been three quarters of a pound of some of the best cornedbeef I've yet had.

I ate it in the park.