LIFT UP LOCAL 024
Written by Pamela Patton
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
The Secret Sauce of a Detroit-Style Coney Dog
What makes an authentic coney dog? It’s hard to say, but a Detroit-style is a grilled hot dog in a steamed bun topped with yellow mustard, a meat-based chili sauce, and chopped onions.
And thanks to Christina Coden’s Red Hots Chili Sauce company, you can make a Detroit-style Coney yourself.
Christina’s Greek ancestors immigrated to the US around 1915, then migrated to Detroit to find jobs in the burgeoning auto industry. Her great uncle found a job at the first Ford assembly plant in Highland Park, MI. “My great, great uncle spoke several languages, so his job was to tell others how to do their jobs in their native tongues.”
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
What’s the connection between Ford cars and Detroit Coney dogs? “My great, great uncle quickly realized that there were no restaurants nearby for the workers to get a good, fast, and filling lunch. So, he returned to Greece and brought his wife and son to the US. They opened a little diner called the Dog Place across the street from the plant. Too many people thought they were cooking dogs, so his wife changed the name to Red Hots Coney Island, reminiscent of when they landed at Ellis Island.”
Opening in 1921, Red Hots Coney Island was indeed a fast-food restaurant. Open 24 hours because of the plant; six men worked each shift. “One guy put the hot dogs on the grill, and another guy rolled them, one was making the chili, a fourth was wrapping the hot dogs in wax paper, while a fifth guy bagged the coneys. The sixth guy collected the money. There was no cash register; customers dropped their money in a wooden box. It was all on the honor system. Customers would grab two dogs in a bag off the steam table, drop their money in the box, buy a newspaper, go to the corner bar for a shot and a beer, and eat their dogs sitting on the curb by the plant.” This was no leisurely lunch hour, as the Ford assembly workers had only 15 minutes for lunch. “If you were late back from lunch, you were replaced. Men were lining up outside the plant, just waiting for their chance to get into one of the highest-paying assembly jobs available—five dollars a day.”
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
As the auto industry grew, so did the crowd at the diner. “My great Uncle, Nick Nicholson, eventually took over the operation of the Coney. My dad, Rich, started working there in his teens, and in the 1980s, he bought Red Hots Coney Island. I worked there beside my dad, mom, and grandmother for 24 years, making me the fourth generation.”
But slowly, as the automotive industry moved out of Highland Park, business slowed until the diner stood alone on the last industrial street in Highland Park. In 2021, Rich and his wife Carol made the tough decision to retire and close Red Hots. “My dad worked there for 54 years. I was there for 24 years. We had a good run.”
But it wasn’t over.
“Dad had a friend, Jack Aronson, who had a little barbeque joint in Ferndale. In 1995, Jack had a salsa recipe he would blend in 5-gallon buckets and then sell to family and friends. (Aronson went on to found Garden Fresh Gourmet, and in 2015, he sold the company to Campbell Soup.) He would stop by the restaurant and tell my dad, ‘Rich, you should bottle and sell this chili sauce.’ My dad was very old school and didn’t want to take it on. But when I saw Jack’s success, I followed his suggestion. I called him and asked, ‘What do I have to do?’”
Christina, who has also taught special education for 16 years, was on maternity leave with her youngest when she got the ball rolling. “I met with many business people and manufacturers to figure out how to make and package the chili sauce.”
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
And how did Christina become a vendor at Meijer Market Format stores? “I attended a seminar presented by a Meijer representative. I walked up to her, told her I had a chili company, and gave her my card. She said that she would love to try it. I guess my unorthodox approach worked.”
You could call it market research, but Christina is always looking at the meat department at grocery stores to see if they carry chili or hot dogs. “My friend and I were in Grand Rapids, so I visited Bridge Street Market. I was taking pictures of the meat display, which caught the store manager’s attention. When I explained what I was doing, he said, ‘You wouldn’t happen to have any of your chili sauce with you?’ Of course, I did! Doesn’t everyone drive around with a cooler of chili sauce in the backseat of their car?”
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
Red Hots Chili Sauce is now in the refrigerator section of Bridge Street Market, Capital City Market, and Woodward Corner Market. And it’s not just for hot dogs. It can top pasta and be used in queso, dips, mostaccioli, stuffed peppers, and more. (Recipes can be found here.)
Christina is expanding her product line to a packaged spice blend, using a $10,000 grant she won from the Detroit Pistons. “My dad would hand mix the spice for the chili sauce, using a big serving spoon without a recipe. Years ago, a customer came into the store with a Styrofoam cup for her dad to fill with the spice blend. I didn’t know that this customer would regularly come in and get a cup of the spice blend to use at home on chicken and ribs. I told my dad to stop—these spices cost money, and he was just giving them away. But I realized there was a market for our secret spice blend, so I started bottling it, and soon it will be in the Meijer Market Format stores, too.”
📷 courtesy of Amber Rose Photography
What does the future hold for Red Hots Chili? Christina is working on a vegan and super-spicy version of the chili sauce and bottled seasonings. In keeping with her profession as an educator, every month during the school year, the company awards $50 grants to teachers to purchase classroom supplies. But family will remain at the heart of Red Hots Chili.
“My boys will be the fifth generation, and my husband always cheers us on. And we still have loyal customers. I was doing a product demonstration recently when an elderly lady approached and asked if we were the place in Highland Park. I told her yes and called over my dad, who was with me stocking shelves. Turns out Dad had just had lunch with her husband’s best friend. The next thing you know, Dad is talking to her husband on speakerphone. It was mayhem, but it shows the power of good food in creating good memories.”