Most people call him Wyatt Campbell. But the well-known chef who used to be second in command at fine dining spot Gander and Ryegrass now has another name: the Glizzfather. It's only his sisters and closest family who call him Vern, short for Vernon, his middle name in honor of his grandfather.
Lucky for Spokane, Vern cooks.
Last year, Campbell opened Vern Cooks, a gourmet hot dog cart that has popped up everywhere from the wee morning hours of downtown Spokane's bar scene to midday Harley Davidson promo events and private evening weddings.
A Deer Park native, Campbell has spent most of his life in fine dining. He worked for almost a decade in Seattle with James Beard Award-winning chefs before coming back to Spokane to help elevate his hometown's restaurant scene.
But the desire to build something of his own took Campbell out of the kitchen and put him behind a cart. Ever since he opened last summer, the new hot dog stand owner and operator is learning business lesson after business lesson. Meanwhile, his artisan dogs are exploring flavors, textures and colors, all within the confines of a bun (and highly specific health codes).
Now, with three fully operational carts and mentorship from none other than Robert Hetnar, downtown Spokane's longtime vendor affectionately known as Hot Dog Bob, Campbell is well on his way to becoming the city's next glizzy godfather (glizzy being the new slang replacing frank or weiner).
"[I'm] just betting on myself," Campbell says. "I worked all these crazy hours for all these different people from the last 15 years. So just that knowing this is for myself and my family — that's always been a passion of mine."
Campbell first started serving hot dogs as the sous chef at Gander and Ryegrass. They weren't for the restaurant's guests — on Fridays after long service shifts, Campbell would make hot dogs for late-night dinners with the staff.
"I've been kind of dreaming of mobile vending or a truck or just becoming an entrepreneur in some sort of fashion," he says. "It started just as an idea from cooking everybody hot dogs. I started taking it seriously and looking for carts."
Campbell's search for hot dog carts was straight out of a movie. His first one came from a serendipitous conversation between his wife and a stranger, who happened to have a cart from one of Campbell's favorite companies, already shipped, built, never used and ready to sell.
Campbell found his second and third carts abandoned in a garage in the Valley, "dusty and buried underneath a bunch of shit." It's almost too cliche: Campbell, looking through the garage for something else, spies a glint of something silver under an old tarp — he peels it back to uncover exactly what he needs.
With his equipment ready, Campbell could focus on the hot dogs themselves.
"I can be creative to a point," he says. "That's one of the hardest things I deal with right now. It's just hot dogs...I mean, I think that my dogs are creative and different, and they definitely have a little bit more flair than your average hot dog carts. [But] it's definitely challenging, being a fine dining chef."
One of Campbell's best sellers is the Truffle Boy ($8) with sauteed onion, bacon bits and truffle aioli. Another staple is the Wyatt Earp ($8), a dog named after the notorious Old West lawman that riffs off a traditional cowboy dog with barbecue sauce and caramelized onions. The Big Dill ($8) with bacon bits and fresh dill is a new fan favorite.
It took Campbell a year to gather all the proper ingredients for a Chicago Dog, which requires neon green relish, yellow mustard, sport peppers, tomatoes, dill pickles and chopped white onions. The Chicago Dog will probably be on Vern Cooks' next menu, which Campbell rotates every couple weeks. He typically offers six specialty dogs, plus a classic one for just $5. (But don't worry, the Chicago Dog will be served far, far away from any ketchup.)
But before you get to choose which hot dog you want, you've got to find Vern Cooks. Your best bet is to visit the Spokane County Courthouse between 10 am and 2 pm on weekdays, when Campbell is consistently set up facing Broadway Avenue. If Vern Cooks is hired for special events during the day, chef friends like CJ Callahan and Austin Conklin man those carts for him.
Campbell moves around a bit during evening and late-night hours. Dancers and drinkers will probably see him downtown outside Spoke 'N Sport on North Division from around midnight to 3 am. Other imbibers might soon find him outside Bon Bon in the Garland District.
Campbell tries to keep hungry followers aware of his location via social media. But you can also hire him to cater private events, in which case you can tell him where to be.
Despite the tremendous amount of effort Campbell has poured into his burgeoning hot dog empire, he's clear that the people around him are the ones who have made his dream possible.
The only person who knows Vern Cooks better than Campbell does is Hetnar, aka Hot Dog Bob, who's been selling dogs at the downtown corner of Howard Street and Spokane Falls Boulevard for almost two decades. (You can read a profile of Hetnar from last year's Fourth of July issue at Inlander.com.)
"I just go to him with a lot of questions," Campbell says. "He's the one person who knows exactly how much I'm making and how many hot dogs I sell before I even do it."
But perhaps the most important person to Campbell is his co-owner and wife, Jenna. Not everyone would be excited when their husband says he wants to leave fine dining to start a hot dog stand.
"None of this would be possible without her," Campbell says. "She helps not only cater sometimes, but most importantly, she's raising our kids. She's super behind the scenes but without her, none of this works. The fact that she allows her husband to work 20 hours a day some days chasing this crazy hot dog dream is something."
Not only has Jenna had to deal with his crazy work schedule, but her husband has changed, too.
"I used to be super cool and edgy. Now I've got dad socks and hot dog shirts, and I'm totally into it," he says. "She's just like, 'Yeah, you're a geek. That's cool.'"
Campbell also credits hot dogs with keeping him sober. June 26 was his one-year anniversary of ditching alcohol. He also quit drug use years ago after nine years of addiction.
More than anything, Campbell is homing in on that most elusive virtue: patience. Hot dogs aren't where he wants to be forever, but for now, he's content giving them everything he's got. Even something as silly as hot dogs can be worth the effort.
"For my vision, you need to give a shit about the art of it to be able to come out here, to do it consistently, to produce something that gets people buzzing," he says. "It's important."
