At Minneapolis's North Star Deli, the menu and the decor are guided by a love of old-school Minnesota hockey. You’ve got your Herb Brooks Focaccia, your Gump’s Green Wrap, your Dino Italian Sub. Every surface is covered in memorabilia—Slap Shot figurines and Jesse Ventura action figures accompany vintage North Stars gear, a nod to the stuff chef Pedro Wolcott fell in love with, improbably, when he was introduced to Minnesota and hockey while watching The Mighty Ducks as a kid growing up in Panama.
But one thing about old-time hockey? Not a lot of women in the mix. And Wolcott, looking around his Kingfield sandwich shop, thought it might be fun to do something with more of a femme focus. He has a daughter, after all—shouldn’t she see herself represented in sports and in her dad’s restaurant?
“The women do so great, I don’t know why we never give them their due,” Wolcott says.
(He’s right; nobody say anything about how the Lynx season ended.)
This was the inspiration behind Granny G’s, Wolcott’s new hot dog trailer, where the dogs have names like The Lynx Glizzy (bacon bits, sauerkraut, caramelized onion) and Granny’s Kimchi Kick (gochujang spicy mayo, kimchi slaw, fried jalapeños, and wontons). Portraits of Olivia Miles by local artist Adam Johnson (of Naz Reid yard sign fame) greet you as you walk up to the truck, and the inside of the space, though tiny, is packed with more stuff: hockey sticks, pennants, grinning StudBudz.
“This is like a typical food trailer in New Orleans,” Wolcott says, likening the decorations to those in over-the-top Big Easy spots like Turkey and the Wolf. “If I could have a TV in here with VHS playing, I would.”
The focus is on Minnesota’s women’s sports teams, but New Orleans isn’t the only other city from which Wolcott draws inspiration. “These are upstate New York-style hot dogs, so we fry them in butter,” he says. He’s a longtime fan of Walter's Hot Dog Stand, which serves split-grilled dogs like these in its National Register of Historic Places-designated spot in Mamaroneck, New York. As for the chili? Wolcott has always loved the chili from Tommy’s in Los Angeles, where they slap the stuff on everything from burgers to breakfast burritos.
But far-flung as Granny’s meaty muses may be, the ingredients are very local. Wolcott gets his hot dogs and sausages from Kramarczuk's in Northeast, and the “meats” for the vegan versions come from the Herbivorous Butcher. All of the buns are baked by Turtle Bread on Chicago Avenue.
I don’t know that I’ve ever had a hot dog fried in butter before, but this method—dogs are butterflied, then fried—gives you a really snappy sausage, as rich and decadent as you’d expect a hot dog fried in butter to be. I’ve also never been to Tommy’s in L.A., but I love the chili that tops Granny’s Chili Cheese Dog ($9.99). Incredibly beefy and meaty, its richness is offset a bit by pickles, tomato, and sliced white onion, though I will caution you to grab a fistful of napkins if you order it, as this was one messy hot dog.
Argentinian sausage is the buttery, splayed beef product that serves as the base of the Frost Power Play ($11.99), which is dressed with a wonderfully herbaceous chimichurri mayo and topped with crunchy potato strings. It’s a successful combination—perhaps more successful than the Frost power play was itself in the postseason this year. We’ll get the Walter Cup back in 2027, ladies.
And lest your eyes pop at the price of a hot dog here (what are we, literally at a Frost game?), I’ll add that these churched-up little doggies are a whole-ass meal. I didn’t have my measuring tape handy, but I think they were about a foot long, and Granny G’s doesn’t skimp on the toppings. (Again: napkins!)
Wolcott says he’s working to find a permanent spot in south Minneapolis for Granny G’s, but for now, he’s content periodically popping up at local businesses or just setting up in front of his Kingfield sandwich shop. Follow along on Instagram @grannyglizzys for info on upcoming pop-ups, including events later this month at Silverbird Coffee and Time Bomb Vintage.
