Fourth of July week, pandemic edition. The city canceled the fireworks at the fairgrounds. The parade was canceled. The picnic was canceled. Everything public was canceled, and the cancellation left a hole shaped like the Fourth of July, and into the hole we put: our own. Dave bought fireworks from a stand outside Doniphan — sparklers, bottle rockets, Roman candles, the mid-tier suburban arsenal. We set them off in the driveway after dark. The neighbors came out to watch from their yards, six feet apart, masked, scattered across the lawns like stars across a sky, and the sparks went up and the booms echoed and the kids waved sparklers in the dark, writing their names in light, and the light was enough. The light is always enough.
I made the full spread: potato salad (Dave's, the only recipe he makes), burgers, hot dogs, baked beans, corn on the cob, the red-white-and-blue fruit salad. We ate in the backyard as if nothing was different and everything was different. Gayle came. She sat in a lawn chair, six feet from anyone, masked, and watched the sparklers and said nothing, and the nothing was presence, and the presence was the flag she flew — not the American flag but the Gayle flag, which says: I am here, I will not be defeated by a virus or by loneliness or by the thirty-four months since Larry died, I am here.
Josie asked why we could not go to the fairgrounds fireworks. I said because of the virus. She said when will the virus be over. I said I do not know. She said will it be over by my birthday. I said I hope so. She said I hope so too. The hoping was the conversation, and the conversation was the most honest thing either of us said all week.
The full spread was non-negotiable that year — if everything public was canceled, then everything private had to count twice as much. The Wiener Wraps were Josie’s favorite part of the table, the thing she checked on first when she came through the back door, and that year more than any other I was glad to have something reliable and warm to hand her while she worked through her questions about viruses and birthdays and when things would be okay again. Some recipes are just food; this one was reassurance in crescent roll dough.
Wiener Wraps
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 can (8 oz) refrigerated crescent roll dough (8 triangles)
- 8 hot dogs or beef wieners
- 1 tablespoon yellow mustard (optional, for brushing)
- 1 tablespoon butter, melted
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder (optional)
- Ketchup, mustard, or relish for serving
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it.
- Separate dough. Open the crescent roll can and carefully separate the dough along the perforations into 8 individual triangles.
- Wrap the wieners. Place a hot dog at the wide end of each dough triangle. Roll the dough snugly around the hot dog toward the pointed tip, stretching slightly to cover. Place seam-side down on the prepared baking sheet, spacing about 1 inch apart.
- Brush and season. Stir garlic powder into the melted butter, then lightly brush the tops of each wrap. For extra flavor, add a thin line of mustard inside before rolling.
- Bake. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, until the dough is deep golden brown and cooked through. Rotate the pan halfway through for even browning.
- Serve. Let cool for 2 to 3 minutes before serving. Set out ketchup, mustard, and relish on the side.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 220 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 590mg