Ballpark Food

Ballpark
Fare

By Marty Rosen
Photographs by Dan Dry

Ah! A warm, sultry summer evening, the stands well filled with fans, the home team still in contention. The beer-hawker is working his way up the steps-"Hey! Getchyer cold beer! Hey! Getchyer cold beer here!" You beckon for a couple of frosties, secure the foamy beer cup in the seat's cup holder, and settle back with a tray of sushi, or a vegetarian burrito or a styrofoam bowl of clam chowder. Or maybe a barbecued brisket sandwich, or a couple of deep-fried Rocky Mountain oysters (a manly repast!) or a crisp pierogie.

Yes, you are attending a baseball game. But where are the Coney dogs and brats, the peanuts and Cracker Jack? You can still find the standards at the concession stand, but baseball stadium food purveyors are branching out, responding to the upscale tastes of today's fans. Come with us to explore the expanding menus found at major and minor league ballparks around the country.

Baseball has its share of controversies: bat corking, steroids, Pete Rose, the designated hitter, revenue sharing and the like.



A plate of nachos feels right at home near Slugger Field's home plate.

But last spring, it was a menu change that roiled Yankee Stadium, aroused the ire of traditionalists, and attracted attention from baseball pundits around the world. Specifically, Frito-Lay decided to replace the waxy box in which Cracker Jack had been sold for a century with a plastic bag. The management at Yankee Stadium cried foul, and ejected Cracker Jack from the arena, replacing it with an item called Crunch 'n Munch. Never mind that Frito-Lay, which bought Cracker Jack in 1997, could be construed as the culprit here, or that a package of Crunch 'n Munch doesn't include a prize (let's face it, the Cracker Jack prizes haven't exactly been collectible the last decade or so). For baseball fans, dumping Cracker Jack was tantamount to doing away with the seventh inning stretch or allowing major leaguers to use aluminum bats. So the fans at Yankee Stadium gave this plan a rowdy Bronx cheer, and in June, after an enormous fan outcry, Cracker Jack was returned to its rightful place (though not its rightful price: in major league parks, it's not unusual to pay five or six bucks for a box of Cracker Jack).

The Cracker Jack controversy was a powerful lesson about the symbolic importance of ballpark food (not to mention being an interesting lesson in the power of branding).

For Americans - and for international tourists visiting the United States - ballpark food goes to the very essence of our "foodways": beer, hot dogs, peanuts and Cracker Jack have furnished the culinary backdrop for ballgames for a century, and, overpriced or not, nearly everyone feels young at heart when slathering yellow mustard, onions and relish on a steamed dog, and devouring it while watching the boys of summer.

In some parts of the country, those core traditions are driving forces. In Los Angeles, for instance, home of the Dodger Dog, 1.6 million hot dogs are sold each season. Wrigley Field and Yankee Stadium aren't far behind, selling 1.5 and 1.3 million dogs respectively. And of course those Chicago dogs have to reflect local dog culture, so in Wrigley, that means tomato, neon-green relish, yellow mustard, celery salt and cucumbers and a seeded bun (with absolutely no ketchup). And the hottest spot for inter-league wiener rivalries may be Chicago, where escalating dog wars have reached the point where U.S. Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox, now offers no fewer than eight different kinds of sausages. In the park's upscale Stadium Club, diners can go beyond dogs, choosing from a menu that includes calamari, dim sum and wok-seared garlic prawns.

New York City is much the same: Shea and Yankee stadiums battle over whose dog will reign supreme. Shea serves up Hebrew Nationals, Strikly Kosher dogs and all-beef Kahn's wieners. George Steinbrenner isn't to be outdone, though: his customers dine on Glatt kosher dogs, Hebrew Nationals, and the legendary Nathan's hot dogs, revered for their natural casings and toothsome bite.

Looking beyond the expected hot dog culture at ball parks, we find that idiosyncratic regional food traditions result in concession stand specialties that vary considerably from, say, Texas, to the Midwest to New England. Catch the Texas League San Antonio Missions, for instance, and you may be chowing down on a chili-laden burrito; at Slugger Field in Louisville, you'll find fried bologna sizzling on the grill; at Boston's Fenway Park, you can dine on chowder from the famous local Legal Seafood restaurants. In Cleveland, the offerings include potato and cheese dumplings; in Montreal, French-Canadian culture is represented by artery-clogging poutine, French fries sprinkled with cheese curd and smothered in gravy. San Francisco's SBC Park has long been noted for its more aromatic (and presumably somewhat lighter) garlic fries.




A team of hot dogs and sausages sizzle at Slugger Field.

Slugger Field is also home to a trove of other traditional goodies: nachos, soft pretzels, elephant ears sprinkled with generous quantities of sugar, and of course the ubiquitous Cracker Jack.

In recent years, though, those traditional and regional favorites have been supplemented as ballparks around the country upped the culinary ante with offerings geared to increasingly sophisticated palates. That's not surprising in cities like San Francisco or Seattle, but even in the heartland the menu is shifting. In Pittsburgh, the Pirates have been vending sushi and Caesar salads for years.

Even minor league parks are part of this trend. Fans at Slugger Field, for instance, can opt not only for traditional ballpark fare, they can also find, not at the game itself, but nestled within the friendly confines of the stadium's concourse, casual fare and micro-brewed beer at Browning's. And if they have an appetite for upscale dining, last spring Anoosh Shariat, one of Louisville's most highly respected chefs, took over the culinary reins at Park Place on Main, another restaurant located on the concourse side of the stadium, where diners can opt for foie gras, lobster mango salad or maple sugar-cured bison accompanied by blackened Hawaiian prawns. Just a few steps away from the crack of the bat diners can find, before or after the game, world-class cuisine, and a wine list that would be quite at home in any major league city.

And perhaps the most surprising trend is the increasing availability of vegetarian food. In Milwaukee, for instance, a center of sausage culture, the Brewers have added soy-based veggie dogs to their 2004 menu.

But other places go even further. PETA, the animal rights organization, each year gives ballparks a "vegetarian-friendly" rating. In 2004, Cleveland topped the list, for its assortment of veggie wraps, pierogies, bean burritos, knishes, vegetarian sushi and the like. The Toronto Blue Jays' SkyDome was recognized for its vegetarian subs, burgers and hot-dogs, and the Oakland Athletics' Network Associates Coliseum for its its gourmet Portobello mushroom sandwich.


Ballpark Menu Highlights


Take a tour of ballpark menu highlights from around the country.

Arlington, Texas
Every little burg in Texas seems to have six or seven smokehouses and barbecue pits, serving up everything from barbecued longhorn and rattlesnake meat to shredded armadillo. In The Ballpark, home of the Rangers, it's smoked brisket.

Atlanta
Media entrepreneur Ted Turner raises bison on his Montana ranch that furnishes the meat for Turner Stadium's bison burgers and bison dogs.

Boston
The Red Sox may be suffering from the curse of the Bambino, but die-hard fans can take comfort in Legal Seafoods chowder-no substitute for a World Series, but sweet consolation nonetheless.

Chicago
In addition to the dogs, the White Sox cater to their burgeoning Latino fan base with a Mexican cantina in the outfield.



Skyline Chili's cheese coneys served up at Cincinnati's Great American Ballpark.

Cincinnati
Like barbecue, chili comes in a multitude of regional variations. In Cincinnati, chili spices are influenced by Greek traditions, creating a distinctive style that's immediately recognizable to any aficionado. Skyline Chili is one of the principal proponents of the Cincy-style, and the not-so-humbly-named Great American Ballpark, home of the Reds, dishes up Skyline's cheese coneys to thousands of fans: it's a dog on a steamed bun, slathered with chili, mustard, diced onions and shredded cheddar cheese.

Cleveland
Pierogies are the highlight at Jacobs Field, home of the Cleveland Indians. And where most parks offer nothing but bright yellow mustard, Jacobs Field has long offered up a pungent brown mustard called Bertman's Ballpark Mustard. (Art Modell has long been reviled by Cleveland fans not only for moving the Browns to Baltimore, but for replacing Bertman's with a different brand of mustard.)

Denver
Coors Field is a ballpark in more ways than one; it may be the only stadium in the country that includes Rocky Mountain oysters on the menu.

Detroit
The fastest way to get a food fight started in Detroit is to start talking about Coney Islands (chili dogs in the rest of America). At Comerica Park, home of the Tigers, the Coneys come from a Leo's Coney Island stand.

Houston
In 2000, the Houston Astros moved from the Astrodome to Minute Maid Park, a place with real grass and actual sunlight. But you don't have to restrict yourself to juice: check out Sheriff Blaylock's Chili Parlor or barbecue from Maverick's Smoke House.

Kansas
Food pundit and political poet Calvin Trillin popularized Kansas City as a barbecue mecca a couple of decades ago, so it's no surprise that in the home of big band swing, the Royals' Kauffman Stadium serves up nationally renowned Gates Barbecue.

Los Angeles
Tommy Lasorda didn't ruin his girlish figure on sushi and Caesar salads, more likely it was the famous (some might say infamous) Dodger Dog, always cooked on a grill, never subjected to the nefarious steam and water most baseball dogs are heir to.

Miami
Pro Player Stadium, home of the Florida Marlins, is smack dab in the middle of expat Cuban culture, so it's not surprising that the drink offerings include Cuban Coffee, a high-impact brew that will give you a definite case of the seventh inning jitters. And Pro Player also offers Cuba's signature dish, the Cuban sandwich of roast pork, cheese, pickles and ever-so-crusty bread.

Milwaukee
It's sausage here-brats with red sauce. And though Food & Dining Magazine beer columnist Roger Baylor will beg to differ, can anyone deny that the home of the Brewers is the epicenter of the American beer business, if not beer culture?

Montreal
The Expos announcers call the balls and strikes in French, of course, and Olympic Stadium, in addition to poutine, offers the famous Montreal viande fumé (smoked meat), which will knock the socks off anyone who's gotten weary of mediocre corned beef and pastrami.

Philadelphia
At the Phillies' brand new Citizens Bank Park, which just opened for the 2004 season, you can find several varieties of cheesesteak, including one made by the justly renowned Geno's; look closely, and you might even find some scrapple.

Pittsburgh
At Pittsburgh's PNC Park, home of the Pirates, the cheesesteak comes with a layer of coleslaw. If you prefer, Benkovitz's fish sandwiches, a long-time local favorite, are also available in the park.

San Diego
PETCO Park, home of the Padres, is noted for selling some fine fish tacos. And if you need something heftier, former Padres pitcher Randy Jones has a barbecue stand in the park.