I eat so much damn food, in addition to all the other stuff I do for this infernal rag, that sometimes my stories get backlogged for months. Take the tale of Mr. Hot Bunz, a catering service run by Christian Lemus. I had the chance to eat his bacon-wrapped hot dogs months ago, and they were spectacular: bacon hugging the wiener, as crispy as a chicharrón, topped by mayonnaise and onions grilled to the point of carbon, like a great Sonoran dog is. But what was the best part about Mr. Hot Bunz was his barbecue sauce with the unfortunately corny name “pineabero” but with a taste worthy of a carne asada Sunday.
Lemus does it by including equal parts habanero and pineapple, so that it's equally hellish and saccharine. He includes entire chunks of the respective fruits; in one bite, you'll get refreshing, fibrous pineapple, in another, the pliant hell that is habanero. Put that on top of the bacon-wrapped hot dog's fattiness, the slightly toasted comfort of a bun, and you can scarf down five of these as an appetizer, so good they are.
If you want some, though, you're going to have to hire Lemus as a caterer. Sometimes, he does popups at some nightclub in Fullerton who's name I forgot; check out his Twitter updates.
And I had this really awesome ending, but MT ate it, so screw it: just eat Lemus' wieners, and you'll never bother with LA's danger dogs again…