The Hotdog that Started it All

I was still dragging tables across the church hall room when someone offered me a drink. That's this group in a nutshell. You haven't even sat down and they're already looking after you.

I caught them mid-conversation. Cholesterol levels. Where to go as we get older. Important stuff. I listened for a bit, then decided to derail the whole thing.

"I have a question. Is a hotdog a sandwich?"

Six heads turned. The silence was magnificent.

What followed was a full investigation into hotdogs, sav rolls, and those little cocktail sausages. One lady leaned in and said, very carefully, that she'd always called them Little Boys, but she wanted to make sure nobody minded. Nobody minded. Everyone giggled. The red sausages were declared the lesser sausage. My kids call the small brown one's naked sausages because you don't have to peel them. The table agreed this was also reasonable.

From sausages we ended up on French food. I mentioned frog legs. The faces. I told them I'd eaten snails too. Different faces. Worse ones. Some of the ladies just said "eww." That was enough.

Best Wednesday yet. We covered cholesterol, end-of-life planning, the great sausage debate, and French cuisine nobody asked for. All before the second cup of tea.

They bring the bikkies. I'll bring the random topics.

A hotdog is not quite a sandwich. The bread stays joined on one side. It wraps around the filling rather than holding it between two separate slices. That puts it in its own category. Closer to a roll than a sandwich.

So where does that leave the sav roll?

Same structure. Same idea. Not really a sandwich either.

Which means what we've been eating at every school fete, footy game, and church morning tea for the past fifty years was never a sandwich.

Just a roll, a sausage, a bit of sauce, and a good reason to stand around and talk.

YOU CAN JOIN THE GROUP Every Wednesday's from 10:30-11:30 @ Buninyong Uniting Church Hall. 302 Scott Street Buninyong