My dad has been talking about them ever since we left DC. Almost every time I ask him what he wants for lunch, he’ll say, “How ’bout a Half-Smoke?” and laugh. But I can tell that behind that laughter is a deep-seeded longing for that one-of-a-kind sausage he left behind in the nations capitol.
That may sound homo-erotic, but don’t worry folks. This blog is nothing but good clean family fun. And so is the restaurant where you can find this world-famous dish: Ben’s Chili Bowl.
When you walk into Ben’s, the line for pick-up orders gives the impression that you’ll be waiting for another hour and a half before you even think about what to order off the menu. But once you walk into Ben’s, you’re greeted by friendly, and efficient staff who will usher you to your table. The Chili Bowl looks like a one-room joint from the outside, but walking through the back reveals three other rooms for sit-down diners, with plenty of space and more than enough chairs for everyone to sit. The menus are simple, and reflect the overall mood at Ben’s: simplicity executed fantastically.
Ben’s opened in 1958 at 1213 U Street N.W. under the management of newlyweds Ben and Virginia Ali. The Chili Bowl has survived countless years, the riots following Dr. King’s assassination, D.C. construction destroying U street access from the metro, and recently celebrated it’s 50th anniversary. Throughout it’s years, Ben’s has been a favorite haunt of many, including Bill Cosby, who raves about the same dish whose memory haunts my father’s rumbling stomach daily.
The half-smoke. It is so much more than a chili dog. It’s 1/4 pound of meat: half pork and half beef smoked sausage. It is topped with mustard, onions, and of course, Ben’s homemade chili. The half-smoke comes to you hot from the grill that lines the front window of the shop. The chili is so dark that you know it’s been cooking for longer than you would have the patience for at home. The two are a perfect blend–with just enough chili on the sausage to coat, but not overwhelm. The sausage is smoky and juicy, with a crispy coating around the outside that makes biting into the mess that you’ve prepared yourself for delightful.
My dad is the most constant of critics. And after his half-smoke all he could do was smile and talk about how he wanted another one. 
My boyfriend took one bite of MY half-smoke (emphasis on the MY) and, even though his lunch (something else from the Ben’s menu) was also delicious, I would catch him looking longingly over to my plate, wondering if I would by chance offer him another taste.
I didn’t.
Lesson of the day: ALWAYS get the Half-Smoke.
