Nick’s Nest
Route 5 at Dwight St., Holyoke,
(413) 662-2004
Hours: Mon.–Sat. 11 a.m. to 8 p.m.,
Sun. 11 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Prices: To $5.10.
News flash: Nick’s Nest, the historic hot dog emporium on Route 5 in Holyoke, has made a major addition to its 80 year-old-menu: fries and onion rings.
Since 1921, the menu has not changed at this local diner since old man Nick Malfus transferred the dogs and popcorn from a wooden cart he lugged around Paper City to a little building at the busy crossroads of Dwight Street and Route 5. Two years ago, Nick’s grandson, who inherited the Nest, disappeared mysteriously after selling it to outsiders. Now rumor has it that the place is haunted; there are unexplained appearances at an upstairs window and noises in the basement.
Famous for its steamed buns, dogs, popcorn, ice cream treats, soups and baked beans, Nick’s Nest is a legend for a reason. The dogs are world-class and the interior, a cross between a John Waters film and PeeWee’s Playhouse, has been celebrated by luminaries from artist Randy Deihl to a World War II gunner who praised Nick’s in an interview with Edward R. Murrow.
I am a devotee of Nick’s and am happy to report that the new menu items are up to Nick’s gold standard of hot dog fare. The fries are the pepper-spicy variety, thick, not too greasy and hot. The onion rings are heavily battered but fried to a crisp with a very thin strip of onion in the center. It is good food for a cold winter evening.
The dogs are custom-made for Nick’s from “a place in Connecticut” and have not changed. Here’s an important thing to note if you’re a hot dog fan: although these dogs do not have the crisp bite of a kosher dog (due to the casing), they do have a spicy, almost peppery taste and meaty texture. It’s more like a NYC Sabrett street dog than a Hebrew National. The Nick’s Nest hot dog is a three-bite rush encased in a steamed white bun. If you load it up with chili, cheese, raw onion, and, while you’re at it, ketchup, mustard and relish, it’s a meal. With a side of baked beans (made with a secret sauce created initially by Nick’s wife), you have yourself a meal fit for a paper magnate or a match girl.
Still retro-yummy are the ice cream sodas and the frappes. (Soups and salads are also on the menu. They are new and nothing to write home about.) But almost better than the dogs, if that’s possible, is the scene. The place is a glass jewel box enveloped in neon that shines from within at night. The door swings open upon a customer’s entry through a secret mechanism (a long rope) that is activated by the cheerful counter-person.
The night I was there, three women making a video were wandering around behind the counter, poking into the hot dog heater and the bean warmer. They peppered the counter girl with questions and she patiently pointed out old photos of Malfus men vending hot dogs at the diner. Some tough questions about the alleged ghost prompted the counter girl to provide an insider’s view of the rumor.
“I think that the old man is mad at the way his grandson handled the place,” she said. “Now the new owners have taken over. … I don’t think he’s too happy about that. Nick is the one doing the haunting.”
marynelen@gmail.com
