Pale and composed of beef, pork, and veal, Walter’s wiener is like a cross between a hot dog and a bratwurst. It gets split and grilled, slathered with what seems like Grey Poupon, then put in the usual bun. It constitutes a unique hot dog eating experience, but you might go also for the pagoda-style pavilion that this venerable institution, founded in 1919, has occupied since 1928.

According to the website, when this Liebman’s opened in 1953, there were 100 Jewish delis in the Bronx. Today, it’s the last one remaining. The franks are some of the best in town. Sit in the retro dining room and feel like your own grandparent. Even when cole slaw or potato salad top the wiener, the salty and beefy flavor still shines. Current owner of Liebman’s Yuval Dekel was once the drummer in a hardcore band called Irate.

Hiram’s in Ft. Lee, NJ is 90 years old, a real roadhouse like out of a movie, with an order counter flanking a dive bar, where men sit watching football games and nibbling on franks and disco fries. Those franks, in the northern Jersey style, are deep-fried until the skin rips, making it more crunchy. The dogs are sublime, whether eaten with mustard or chili and cheese.

There are around 30 Five Guys franchises in and around NYC, and they all make amazing hot dogs. The links are all beef, garlicky, and weigh in at a quarter-pound. They get split and grilled, which multiplies the smoky flavor, and you can dress them with the same constellation of toppings available for the hamburgers, of which my favorite is mustard, pickles, raw onions, and jalapenos.

Harlem Shake — there are two branches, another on Fifth Avenue — is the neighborhood’s most notable purveyor of greasy spoon hamburgers in a nostalgic setting that catapults you back to the 1960s. But the franks are similarly distinguished — try the chili-cheese dog (the Snoop Dog), a long all-beef frank with beanless homemade chili con carne topped with American cheese.

Among the bravura display of sausages at the Schaller & Weber German market, this weenie deposited in a pretzel bun is distinctive for its quality and sheer length, garnished with stewed onions and barbecue sauce in an attempt to conjure American barbecue. Despite failing to do so, it matters not, since this hot dog is delicious, and the sweet oniony flavor is a welcome addition to the salty and savory frank.

Made from wagyu beef, the hot dogs here are giant and juicy, and expensive. You should really just buy one and eat it by itself to fully appreciate the flavor, rather than ordering one of the featured configurations. The relatively simple king’s classic is the one to get, accessorized with sauerkraut, pickled purple onions, and mustard. There’s another branch in Jersey City.

This durable Hell’s Kitchen dive bar is deep and musty — just what you want in a dive bar. But its most notable feature is not the sawdust and temperature of the tap beer, but the fact that the place gives away free hot dogs, and the price is right. The franks are grilled and offered with nothing but mustard and nothing’s better on a hot afternoon than a hot dog washed down with a lager or a pilsner.

We envy Los Angeles for its under-the-highway, bacon-wrapped Sonoran hot dogs with a shifting roster of toppings, and this Colombian snack shop in Elmhurst comes close to emulating them. Ask for “super perro a la Mexicana,” which comes with a strip of bacon on top, guacamole, coleslaw, jalapeños, cheese, potato chips, Russian dressing, pico de gallo, and — improbably — a quail egg impaled on a toothpick.

I can’t tell you how many reputed foot-long hot dogs I’ve tried, only to whip out my ruler and find they’re eight inches or less. So, when I stepped into Chelsea’s New York Burger Co. and saw a foot long on the menu I immediately ordered it. Well, imagine my surprise to discover exactly 12 inches of weenie, succulent and salty and every bit as good as the best examples of regular dogs in town, too. Chili and grated cheddar are part of the package, making a meal one can barely finish.

This brightly tiled space — open 24 hours, rare in a hot-dog counter today — channels old-time joints perfectly, with its grab-and-go demeanor and no-nonsense uniformed personnel. The menu goes way beyond just franks and fries, but the chili cheese dog is still the thing to get. And yes, the chili con carne has beans — this ain’t Texas! Take a couple of extra napkins.

This boutique butcher in Chelsea Market puts its weenies right in the window, with two sizes available. We recommend the Big Fred, the larger of the two, even though it qualifies as one of the more expensive in town. The garlicky tang of the stuffing mixed with the pungent raw onions and sharp grainy mustard really puts the thing across.

This West Village favorite grew out of the theme-restaurant movement of late in the last century; its original name was Cowgirl Hall of Fame and it featured Patsy Cline memorabilia and displays of barbed wire. It also served the city’s best corn dogs, evenly battered and expertly fried to order till they’re done to a turn.

This new K-Pop-themed Korean corn dog franchise replaces Two Hands at the same location. It’s dogs are bigger and juicier, in fact so big they are difficult to eat — but you won’t mind. The usual toppings are available, and the one embedded with potato cubes is already a favorite. It’s like eating a hot dog and fries at the same time.

A petulant old-timer — which also spawned cocktail lounge PDT next door— Crif Dogs is famous for deep-frying its franks, Jersey-style, sometimes after wrapping them in bacon. One favorite is the Good Morning, featuring a fried egg and melted cheese in addition to its snuggly blanket of bacon. Tater tots are another plus.

While Jewish deli franks are generally a predictable commodity, great but unfussy, this Greenpoint joint (counter seating only) offers a designer frank more juicy than usual, though with the predictably spare toppings. Plus, the mirrored sleeve it comes in is an added delight. Spoon on the kraut.

This newcomer stays up late on a busy stretch of Metropolitan Avenue. The hot dogs are boiled Sabrett’s — not particularly distinguished but they get the job done. Perhaps too many toppings are offered, running to dozens, but if you like to ultra-customize your frank late at night, this could be your favorite hot doggery. A new branch is opening on St. Marks Place.

This Bushwick location of Ugly is not a stall but a full-blown, comfortable cafe, selling Korean rice-batter donuts and “corn” dogs. Options abound: You can have part of the hot dog replaced with mozzarella or rice noodle, a coating laden with Korean umami powder, or an embedding of the rice batter with potato cubes. A meal consisting of a hot dog on a stick and a powdered sugar doughnut is killer. Further locations in Jackson Heights and Forest Hills.

Skip the pizza and hamburgers here, but the slender, old-fashioned franks with conventional toppings are just fine at this downtown Brooklyn stand right in the middle of big-box stores on the Fulton Street Mall. It’s been there since 1914, making it one of the oldest establishments of this type in town. There is no seating to speak of, so go to nearby Albee Square to get comfortable with your bargain-priced hot dogs.

The Chicago dog has the strictest set of dressing rules in all of frankdom: kosher pickle spears, dash of celery salt, yellow mustard, sport peppers, green neon relish, chopped raw onions, and tomatoes on a poppy seed bun. Most NYC frank stands — including Shake Shack — have tried and failed. But this narrow shop, named after a movie shot on the same Brooklyn block, does it up right.

This combination bakery, lunch counter, and coffee shop in Sunset Park’s Chinatown bakes hot dogs in puff pastries, including the gloppy and wonderful “golden hot dog.” The melted topping is slightly sweet, and one of these gut bombs could double as dessert.

Though the mothership lies on Surf Avenue, the most famous location is a structure with a little man hoisting a burger over his head right on the boardwalk, dispensing fried and raw clams (and a very good place to get them), soft serve ice cream, and cold beers. The hot dogs are of the fundamental New York City type, spread with grainy mustard and sauerkraut, every bit as good as Nathan’s in their own way.

No eatery better captures the Jersey Shore feeling than Max’s, a Long Branch fixture since 1928. Take, for example, the hot dog called Jersey Shore: a beef-pork weenie grilled, split down the middle, and sluiced with yellow cheese. As if that weren’t enough, the thing is them heaped with strips of Taylor ham (aka pork roll), which adds another porky element and makes it irresistible.