Leave it to San Francisco to turn something as humble as a corn meal-batter-coated hot dog into an exercise in culinary wit. At its best, a corn dog should be hand-dipped and deep-fried to order—none of this pre-frozen business. At its purest, the meal should be eaten standing up, or while perched on a stool, al fresco, of course. But after asking around town, it's clear that corn dogs have broken free from their carnie stereotype, graduating onto many a San Francisco menu. Here goes our list, running the gamut from quick and dirty deliciousness to posh, dine-in "dogs."

Hitting a sausage place at the intersection of Market and Sixth to kick off the weekend doesn't exactly sound like the greatest idea. But how about a quick breakfast, devoid of tiresome lines, straight from the perfectionists behind Foreign Cinema's cult-followed brunch? Genius, right? 

In January of this year, Foreign Cinema's Gayle Pirie and John Clark started serving morning meals at their two-year old mid-Market "sausage emporium," Show Dogs. And if the steady stream of weekend patrons filing through this past Saturday means anything at all, it was a very good idea. Breakfast is served every morning now, starting at 8 a.m. on the weekdays and at at 10 a.m. on Saturday and Sunday.

The best thing since sliced bread is most definitely "The Mousetrap": sliced sourdough stuffed with sharp cheddar and havarti. At least that's what The American Grilled Cheese Kitchen's co-owner Nate Pollack will tell you about his 10-month-old restaurant's best-seller. He and his wife and business partner Heidi Gibson sell about 100 Mousetraps daily, most of them with added Applewood-smoked bacon and tomato. "The most surprising thing about operating a grilled cheese restaurant is how much regular business we get," says Pollack. "We have people who eat here every day for breakfast and lunch."

Who knew? There's a market— a big one—for "adult" grilled cheese. Pollack tipped us off that April just so happens to be grilled cheese month. And as any self-respecting grilled cheese restaurant should, The American is celebrating.

In 1974, a new watering hole brought a wacky idea to the Financial District. London Wine Bar on Sansome Street (which has since closed) was modeled after the common European tasting room and boldly dubbed itself “America’s first wine bar”—a claim that’s widely believed to be true among the vino-scenti. Pamela Busch’s now defunct Hayes & Vine made a similar statement when it opened in Hayes Valley in 1994. But it wasn’t until 10 years later that Hotel Biron, District, Nectar Wine Lounge, and Busch’s second wine bar, Cav, galumphed into town like a cork-popping brat pack begging to be followed.