From grilling up Korean bulgogi to sharing South African biltong with my classmates, I spent my childhood obsessed with what I could learn from my next meal. But that changed just before I turned 16. Everything did.
One night, after preparing myself a meal of filet mignon and mushrooms wrapped in phyllo dough, I rose from bed and immediately face-planted on the floor. It would take six months and 24 doctors to tell me why I could no longer walk, and that was only the beginning.
My seven-year journey with neuro-Lyme disease robbed me of my ability to walk and even sit up independently, but what it did to my passion for food might have been the worst of it. My mother struggled to find anything that I could stomach. At first, it was mushrooms en croute from a nearby gourmet store, but when we moved away, finding sustenance was even harder.
Since puff pastry seemed to sit all right with me, we moved on to Nathan’s Beef Franks in puff pastry. Maybe not the healthiest choice, but it was better than nothing at all.
Fast forward to 2025. I have been cured for 22 years and eat like I did as a child, only better, as a grown-up food writer. But I still have a place in my heart for Nathan’s hot dogs and flaky puff pastry. Could I make an upgraded version myself? Thanks to a Barefoot Contessa recipe, I did just that.
Simply Recipes / Alice Levitt
How I Make Ina Garten’s Hot Dogs in Puff Pastry
Ina Garten’s Hot Dogs in Puff Pastry relies on four ingredients to get its slightly upscale job done. I started with a trip to Walmart to buy all the necessary ingredients for about $20, not bad for a recipe that feeds four. I thawed the puff pastry in the refrigerator overnight, but that was the only longer-term prep.
The next day, I set the oven to 375°F and dusted my favorite cutting board with flour. Garten’s recipe says to smooth out the folds in the puff pastry with a rolling pin, but I won’t bother with that step next time.
I cut the pastry into two triangles, which, looking back at the recipe, was incorrect. Garten called for rectangles. Nonetheless, I persisted by spreading a tablespoon of Dijon mustard along the lower portion of each of the four halves. I plopped a hot dog at the bottom of each piece of puff pastry.
I was left with excess pastry on the sides, which I folded in and sealed using the egg wash with which I also brushed the top. On a sheet pan lined with parchment paper, I placed each of the four hot dog rolls seam-side down, sprinkled them with salt and pepper, and slid them into the oven.
Garten says to bake the rolls for 25 to 35 minutes. I needed every bit of 35 minutes to get a browned exterior, but I had so much puff pastry that the center was still slightly underdone.
But it didn’t really matter. In making these, I had triumphed over my darkest culinary chapter. I dipped each bite into more mustard, feeling healthy and sated.