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Joe Truex bit into the hot dog, sipped a Domaine Chandon pinot meunier and chewed appreciatively one afternoon at his empty Midtown restaurant, Repast. "I thought something like a red burgundy would work," he said.

Then his eyes brightened. "I have another idea," he offered, rummaging in the bar cooler for a split of Laurent Perrier champagne. He sampled a second slice of his handmade hot dog — hot and crisp off the griddle and bursting with juice — and shook his head.

Photos by LOUIE FAVORITE/Staff (ENLARGE)
Joe Truex and his wife and fellow chef Mihoko Obunai test his concoction, which debuts on Repast's menu as an appetizer this weekend.
(ENLARGE)
Chef Joe Truex's luxury hot dog includes foie gras. Test customers wanted to dress it with the traditional ketchup and mustard.
(ENLARGE)
Joe Truex spent long hours of testing in creating his handmade hot dog. The tray on the left contains beef fat and the one on the right beef. Sweetbreads are also part of the recipe.
(ENLARGE)
Joe Truex froze and re-ground the mixture with smaller and smaller dies on the grinder.
(ENLARGE)
For the second batch, Truex ground partially frozen meat and fat with the seasonings. He repeated the process, freezing and regrinding the meat with smaller and smaller dies on the grinder until glossy pink strings extruded.
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TRY IT Repast Restaurant is at 620 N. Glen Iris Drive, 404-870-8707.
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"This isn't working," Truex sighed, champagne flute in hand. "It's like washing dishes in cold water. The fat just congeals."

Truex's wife and co-chef, Mihoko Obunai, remained silent during the wine pairing, as she had throughout most of the fraught, expensive process of creating this gourmet oddity. The dog — which looks like a ballpark frank but contains sweetbreads and foie gras as well of untold hours of labor and frustration — was clearly her husband's baby. He eyed her, eager for some sign of approbation.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's good," she assented cautiously. "Really good, but will people pay $10 for a hot dog?"

"Twenty," Truex shot back, emboldened. "This could be the $20 dog but, man, I don't know if Atlanta's ready."

That could become apparent starting this weekend when the haute dog makes its debut on Repast's eclectic American bistro menu. It will be the culmination of nearly three months spent sourcing ingredients, testing and modifying a tricky recipe, and handing out samples to gauge the public's response to this inevitable upscaling of a classic American treat.

Today's most creative chefs shop in a supermarket of ideas stocked with irony and nostalgia. Dessert menus overflow with doughnuts, cupcakes and candy bars. Gourmet burgers have given way to mini-burgers or "sliders." Martinis sport lollipops.

Done right, these innovations showcase a chef's keen edge and smooth sense of humor. But they can also curdle into punch lines. Departed Atlanta chef Richard Blais will forever be remembered for his 15 minutes of foie gras milkshake.

Truex felt this project would be different. "Sure, making a hot dog is whimsical," he agreed. "But it's also got roots. It's this quintessential American thing, and it's never really been elevated."

A challenge

For a new restaurant, such a jokey dish might be a gamble. Repast opened last year to wide critical acclaim. It is neither Southern nor Mediterranean; the kitchen uses organic local produce but chooses not to celebrate it with menu language. All told, the restaurant defies categorization. Perhaps something fun like a hot dog would serve as a calling card for the restaurant's signature entrees, like hanger steak with root vegetables.

Truex got the idea after seeing a recipe in the book "Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking and Curing" (Ruhlman et al, W. W. Norton). He took it as a challenge.

Making sausage is easy in comparison. Before it becomes a hot dog, the mixed-up variety of ground meats must be emulsified — a complicated process that involves separating each microscopic fat globule from the next.

Following the recipe, Truex assembled all the ingredients, which included beef chuck, saltpeter, dextrose, natural hog casings and garlic.

There was no commercial source for beef suet, so Truex collected beef fat from his local Whole Foods Market and rendered it himself.

After all that, the emulsion did not work at first. Hot off the grill, the inaugural dog looked and tasted the part, but its texture was mealy.

Jamming a piece into his mouth and looking despondent, Truex said, "We've really got to keep that mixture cold."

For the second batch, Truex ground partially frozen meat and fat with the seasonings. He repeated the process, freezing and regrinding the meat with smaller and smaller dies on the grinder until glossy pink strings extruded.

"This is so cool," he exclaimed like a kid with a toy. "It's just like Play-Doh! This is the reason I do it."

Concerned that the dog needed a raison d'être beyond its homemade virtue, Truex folded diced foie gras and sweetbreads — the edible calf glands considered a delicacy in fine restaurants — into the pink meat dough.

The results startled everyone, even Truex. It was a ballpark frank, with a flavor that started somewhere on the Lexus level and turned to foie gras on the finish. Obunai, whose own taste in food runs closer to the nightly macrobiotic plate of organic grains and tofu she prepares for the restaurant, agreed that her husband had crafted a dog of distinction.

A hot hot dog

Yet Obunai still had her concerns. "It's so rich, I'm not sure that anyone could finish it." One 8-ounce link contained nearly an ounce of foie gras (120 calories and 12 fat grams) and more than 3 ounces of pure beef suet (723 calories and 79 fat grams.) It was an unapologetic artery clogger.

Over the week, Truex handed out samples to regular customers, which confirmed his suspicions that it would prove a hit. "One guy told me it was the best thing he's ever put in his mouth," the chef beamed.

Although he had considered serving the hot dog French-bistro style, with champagne-braised sauerkraut, Truex discovered that his customers wanted ketchup, mustard and a bun.

With brioche buns from Alon's Bakery and homemade three-onion ketchup, Truex and Obunai debuted the Repast dog Tuesday night at "Culinaire" — the kickoff party for this weekend's Taste of Atlanta. They handed out bite-sized tastes speared on toothpicks, and their booth was instantly mobbed.

"It's incredible," gushed Kathleen Perry of Atlanta. "Varsity, eat your heart out!"

Truex and Obunai decided that a few tastes of the Repast dog was perfect, but a whole one would be overkill. Goodbye, $20 entree; hello, $10 appetizer.

If their tube steak received any criticism at Culinaire, it was voiced by Joan Benedetto of Marietta, who said, "the foie gras is not terribly strong but, still, it tastes great."

Truex was surprised that so many claimed to have never tried foie gras before.

"I guess it just goes to show," he said, "everyone likes hot dogs."

COMFORT FOODS

Restaurants have discovered that the more a dish sounds like a carnival treat or childhood snack, the more likely guests are to order it. Consider:

• At Joël, the house martini, called L.I.K. ("Life Is Knowledge") comes with a handmade raspberry lollipop.

• At the Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead, the final mignardises cart usually features marshmallows.

• At Floataway Cafe, one of the desserts is an adult take on s'mores.

• At Seeger's, guests begin the meal with smoked popcorn.

• At Two Urban Licks, the signature dessert is a lineup of miniature cupcakes.

• At McCrady's in Charleston, S.C., tuna sashimi comes swathed in soy sauce cotton candy.