As a critique, "putting lipstick on a pig" rests on a dubious assumption: that the person you're arguing against didn't want to have sex with the pig even before the lipstick -- or, if he's Jewish, sex with the cow. Putting gourmet lipstick on already delicious kosher wieners, Po Dogs.
From a former corporate recruiter, Po's slinging "internationally researched", gourmet-topping'd hot dogs from a 30-seat reclaimed auto-shop watched over by a massive portrait of her pet pooch, and outfitted with a striking white centerpiece counter, wooden banquettes, high raw-wood ceilings, and old lady-esque wallpaper merging floral patterns and dueling pistols (granny get your gun?). The locally sourced, 7in meat-torpedoes begin with the "Classic", served on a Macrina brioche bun and toppable with 25 offerings including sweet or hot peppers, fresh mango, banana, and even bacon jam; or, go with one of a slew of pre-set combos, starting with regional reppers like the "Seattle" (cream cheese & sauteed scallions), the "Chicago" (spicy mustard/sweet relish/onions/tomato/dill pickle/sport peppers/celery salt), and the "Texas", with mesquite BBQ sauce, crispy onion straws and cheddar sourced from south of the border, a.k.a. Oregon. More outlandish franks include odes to preschool (the cheese sauce/crushed potato chips/mustard & ketchup "Dub-T"; the crunchy peanut butter/sliced bananas "PB") and deep-fried doggies (the pepper bacon-wrapped/sauteed onions/chili sauce "Danger"; the egg-roll wrapped/wasabi aioli "Wasabi Dog"); for breakfast, try the "Morning Glory", with scrambled eggs, bacon, Tillamook cheddar, and a high five for wearing exactly what you wore there for dinner the night before.
Because hot dogs without beer offend God, PD's serving $3 domestic taps/bottles; for happy hour, they're also trotting out "hot dog sliders" -- which can be topped with bacon, so if you're Jewish, just let it slide-r.