Hamburger America

by George Motz

  The classic sliders at Powers are the primary source for the American hamburger. Tiny two-ounce balls of ground beef are grabbed from a pile in a fridge behind a sliding door adjacent to the griddle. The balls are tossed on the griddle and covered with a thick layer of thinly sliced sweet onion. The griddleperson gives the onions a gentle press until the balls of beef are flattened. When the patties are flipped, a potato roll is placed on the burger to steam until soft. A burger with everything comes with cheese and onions. Pickles are available, but as Sarah curtly pointed out, “Only if you ask.” If you require a double, two balls are pressed together to make a larger patty. Several doubles with everything is the way to go.

  There is no mistaking the presence of onions on a Powers slider. Even with the double meat, the soft, limp onions made up 50 percent of the burger and ruled the flavor profile. The cheese acts as a sort of glue for the whole glorious mess and the locally made soft potato roll completes the package. As I was thinking about this, a customer walked in an, ordered a bunch with extra onion, which was hard to imagine. As I popped the last bite in my mouth, I placed an order for two more. The fear of walking out of a place like Powers unsated was too much to bear.

  All types of folks dine at Powers. Next to me was a tattooed dude with a mohawk and next to him a clean-cut man and his daughter. Harley types and old-timers also occupied stools and nary a word was spoken, just quiet consumption and the dull thwack of onions being pressed into beef.

  In the beginning, Powers, like many other burger stands of the day, was open around the clock. Today, Powers has fairly normal hours, opening at 5 a.m. Six days a week. Sarah told me, “We’ll make burgers at 5 a.m. if you want ’em.”

  TRIPLE XXX FAMILY RESTAURANT

  2 NORTH SALISBURY ST | WEST LAFAYETTE, IN 47906

  765-743-5373

  WWW.TRIPLEXXXFAMILYRESTAURANT.COM

  OPEN 24 HOURS | CLOSED SUN 8 PM–MON 6 AM

  “This place was on the brink of folding,” owner Greg Ehresman told me as I sat at the twisting short-order counter for the first time. Greg would know, because he flipped burgers at the Triple XXX decades before he was an owner. He obviously saw the value in this burger counter at an early age and told me, “I wanted to buy this place when I was seventeen.”

  The Triple XXX opened in 1929 as a seasonal root beer stand, or “Thirst Station,” only a few blocks from Purdue University. At one point there were 100 Triple XXX Thirst Stations around the country selling root beer by the mug to a population in the midst of Prohibition. Over the decades the stand morphed into a full-scale diner with carhop service but slipped into decline in the 1970s. Greg’s father Jack Ehresman, who grew up only a block from the restaurant, swept in and saved the iconic hamburger stand in 1980 even though, as Greg put it, “He was not a restaurant guy.” Jack, his wife, Ruth, and son, Greg, decided that the key to their success would be to go back to the old way of making everything by hand—a failsafe measure that has proved to be an enormous success.

  The burgers at Triple XXX start as sirloin steaks from a local butcher that are ground daily upstairs in the restaurant and formed into tall “pucks,” not thin patties. The puck is smashed thin with great force by the hand of the grill person just before it hits the hot griddle. As I watched Greg make a burger for me he did something that caught my eye, something I had never seen before in my endless hamburger research: the patty was nonchalantly tossed into a bin of flour before it hit the griddle. Perplexed, I asked him why. Like all great stewards of tradition his only response was, “Because that’s the way we’ve always done it.” The result was predictable and amazing. The flour mixes with the sizzling fat to create an even more pronounced griddle char and flavor.

  If you are looking for a hamburger on the extensive menu, you’ll need to search for the “Chop Steak.” A cheeseburger is a Chop Steak with cheese. Skip those, however, and head straight for their signature burgers, all named after All-American football stars from Purdue. One of the most popular is the “Boilermaker Pete,” a triple with cheese and grilled onions served on a toasted, white squishy bun. A triple sounds unmanageable but the proportions are perfect on this beauty, a pure expression of the classic American burger. Wash your burger down with the restaurant’s namesake root beer, still made on premises as it has been for over 75 years.

  The Triple XXX is a 24-hour restaurant. That’s right, you can show up at any hour of the day to eat amazing burgers. Students make great use of this feature by filling the place well past 4 a.m. on weekends. “On a football weekend,” Greg told me, “we’ll go through 700 pounds of beef easily.”

  Today Greg and his wife, Carrie, run The Triple XXX and stay very busy thanks to a visit by Guy Fieri in 2007. “We saw a 40 percent uptick in business since that show aired,” Greg told me. For a collegetown watering hole surrounded by soulless chains that is music to my ears. Even though the McDonald’s only 100 feet away from the Triple XXX is open 24 hours, Greg confidently told me, “It does not affect business here at all.”

  WORKINGMAN’S FRIEND

  234 NORTH BELMONT | INDIANAPOLIS, IN 46222

  317-636-2067 | WWW.WORKINGMANSFRIEND.US

  MON–FRI 11 AM–8 PM | SAT 11 AM–3 PM

  CLOSED SUNDAY

  You’ll know you are close to Workingman’s Friend when the sweet smell of crude oil fills your car. This unpretentious bar sits across the street from a Marathon oil refinery on the edge of a working-class neighborhood only a few miles from the famous Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Look for the bar with the large vintage Pepsi sign and a façade made almost entirely of glass block.

  Expert burger taster from Dallas, Wayne Geyer, alerted me to Workingman’s. He had asked me for a recommendation for a burger in Indianapolis and I told him I didn’t have anything. Put to the challenge, he discovered the double cheeseburger at Workingman’s and scored big. Add to this burger discovery a bar that serves thirty-two-ounce goblets of tap beer in a bare-bones tavern setting and you have a homerun.

  Opened in 1918 by Macedonian immigrant Louie Stamatkin as Belmont Lunch, the place mostly served sandwiches and burgers to workers at the nearby B&O Railroad maintenance facility. Louie would run tabs for the workers knowing that they had little money to spend. The workers dubbed Louie the “workingman’s friend” and a name was born. In the late ’40s, Louie passed away and his two sons Carl and Earl assumed ownership of the bar. They changed the name out of respect for their father. They began construction on a new, larger building to replace the converted house that Louie called Belmont Lunch. To avoid shutting down for months, the brothers instead built around the existing structure. During construction, pieces of the old structure were carted out the side door and they were never once closed for business. “They did it to stay open,” Becky Stamatkin told me. Becky is Louie’s granddaughter and the third generation of the Stamatkin family at Workingman’s Friend. She has run the bar and smashed burgers to perfection for over 30 years.

  Today, the large, open tavern is a sea of utilitarian red chairs and tables. Sixty feet in length, it boasts one of the longest bars in Indy. The bar sits atop a wall of glass block that is backlit by two tubes of pink neon. Decoration is minimal, and sections of the linoleum flooring have worn through to the concrete. Two non-functioning vintage cigarette machines sit by both doors to the bar as a vestige of the Workingman’s past, not some purchased history for the sake of kitchy decor.

  “99.9 percent order the double cheeseburger,” Becky told me. And there’s a good reason for that—it’s amazing. Becky takes two balls of fresh ground 80/20 chuck and smashes them super-thin on the nearly half-century-old flattop griddle. The burger cooks through but stays moist and the edges become lacey and crisp. The double is served on a toasted, white squishy bun with a third bun inserted to separate the two patties. If you ask for everything, your double will come with shredded lettuce, sliced tomato, raw onion, and mayonnaise with pickle slices on the side. The grease, cheese, and mayo worked well with the beef, and I asked Becky
if there was more than just mayo between the buns. She told me with a wink, “It’s only mayo, but I tell people it’s a special sauce.”

  The double cheeseburger is a sight to behold. The floppy edges of the smashed-thin burger hang far outside the bun, making this beast seem unmanageable. Fortunately the entire package is quite manageable. The patties each weigh in at around a quarter pound but Becky could not confirm this. “Ah, I don’t know how big they are,” she confessed. “I’ve been doing this for so long that I don’t know anymore. I make balls of beef, then I smash them.” Whatever the size, it’s perfect.

  One thing at the bar that is almost unmanageable is the beer. If you like your tap beer large, then don’t miss the thirty-two-ounce “Frosty Fish Bowl.” Bartender Terry, Becky’s half-brother, pulls a heavy goblet out of a freezer behind the bar and fills it with ice cold Budweiser or Bud Light. That’s a lot of beer and it’s almost hard to heft when the glass is full. If you don’t want to look like a Medieval king at a banquet with this ridiculously large goblet, go for the smaller sixteen- or ten-ounce sizes.

  On a diet? Workingman’s Friend offers a burger called the “Diet Special” that sounds crazy but good. Becky cooks a large hand-pattied burger on the flattop (not smashed) and serves it on a plate with lettuce, grilled onions, pickles, cottage cheese, and no bun. “We sell maybe two a week,” Becky told me. But hey, you didn’t come in here because you are on a diet.

  I was across the street snapping a few photos after leaving Workingman’s Friend for the first time when an old-timer on mobility scooter rolled by and offered his own review. “It’s the best burger in Indy!” he shouted and kept rolling. And he’s absolutely right.

  ZAHARAKOS ICE CREAM PARLOR AND MUSEUM

  329 WASHINGTON ST | COLUMBUS, IN 47201

  812-378-1900 | WWW.ZAHARAKOS.COM

  MON–FRI 8 AM–8 PM | SAT & SUN 9 AM–8 PM

  When I first stepped into Zaharakos, my jaw dropped. What you’ll find at this 110-year-old ice cream parlor will astound you. In 2009, after being purchased (and saved) by local businessman Tony Moravec, Zaharakos reopened completely renovated to its original décor from opening day in 1900. During the century that the Greek-owned restaurant was in business the place saw many renovations (and a car through the front window) but when Tony purchased the parlor his goal was clear—to restore Zaharakos to its original grandeur, complete with period marble soda dispensers, stamped tin ceilings, wire-back café chairs, and an enormous vintage Welte player organ. I have never seen anything like this in my life.

  Tony Moravec is extraordinarily passionate about ice cream parlor memorabilia, ephemera, and history. His passion is fueled in part by his very successful pharmaceutical company located nearby in Columbus. The renovation cost Tony $3.5 million and took 2 years to complete, but as he explained to me, it was his pleasure. “It was a fascinating trip,” he told me. The last Zaharakos family member running the parlor passed away in 2006 as the restaurant was in decline. Tony saw his purchase of the aging relic as a chance to give back to the community.

  “In the renovation we kept the original bones of the place and renovated around that,” Tony explained. But this wasn’t just any renovation. Tony had specialists come in from all over the country to manage things like restoring and cleaning the original marble, repairing the vintage soda dispensers, and most notably to bring the Welte organ back to its former glory. “I wanted to make it first-class and make Zaharakos a destination.” He most certainly has, with stunning detail and unfaltering commitment.

  The menu was also restored and updated but still reflects some of the early offerings from the Zaharakos family, like the dizzying selection of fountain soda favorites and the famous “Gom Cheese-Brr-Grr.” The Gom is not really a burger but, like the Maid-Rite “loosemeats” sandwich of Iowa, it is an intriguing take on the marriage of beef and bread. There is a regular burger on the menu at Zaharakos but trust me, go for the tasty Gom.

  The Gom Cheese Brr-Grr is basically a Sloppy Joe fused with a grilled cheese sandwich, although this one has far less tomato sauce than a typical Joe. Its history is mostly unknown but it is believed that over 75 years ago the Zaharakos Brothers may have actually invented the original Sloppy Joe. The general profile of the slop is kind of sticky, or “gommy” (from the German slang for “sloppy”) and is loaded with tasty spices and a little bit of brown sugar. The buttered, toasted white bread and gooey cheese make this one savory sandwich.

  I glanced around the restaurant and noticed that most people were enjoying Gom sandwiches, with and without cheese. The cheese is great on this concoction because it acts like glue to keep the loose contents together. Tony told me, “It still outsells everything we do.”

  You’ll need a drink with your Gom and good luck trying to choose just one. The original soda dispensers behind the long marble counter are still functional for the most part and operated by an actual soda jerk with experience, the sassy Wilma. She suggested the “Jerk’s Special,” a cinnamon Coke, “Because that’s what the jerk likes!” The cinnamon Coke, hand-mixed from Coke syrup, cinnamon syrup, and soda water, is intoxicating. “The cinnamon enhances the flavor of the Coke, right?” Wilma asked. You can also get a number of other fountain sodas, like chocolate Coke, red Raspberry Coke, and the old Prohibition-era favorite, the neon-green “Green River” (lemon-lime flavored). The shakes and floats are amazing too. I asked Wilma for a chocolate malt and she asked me, “Do you want a real one or one made with Hershey’s?” Piqued by my options naturally I chose the real one. Instead of mixing in Hershey’s chocolate syrup she used the chocolate syrup for their sodas. The flavor was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted, a sort of refined chocolate milkshake experience.

  At some point during your meal, you may hear the towering Welte player organ come to life. This perfectly restored centerpiece of the dining room was originally installed in 1908 and remained in place until the Zaharakos family, in need of cash, sold it to a California collector. Tony, hell-bent on a perfect restoration, tracked down the original and spared no expense to bring it back. He found an automatic musical instrument restorer in Baltimore who admitted that his love of player organs came from a visit to Zaharakos in his teens. The restored organ sounds like an entire orchestra in a box and is probably just as loud. If you want to be transported back to the glory days of ice cream parlors just ask manager Gary to crank it up for you. You’ll probably hear the Zaharakos theme song, Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer,” though Tony personally changes the reels every few days from his collection of over 200.

  The Smithsonian Institution should honor Tony Moravec for his role in preserving this piece of long-gone history. His commitment to the culture of ice cream parlors makes him a true American hero. “I don’t think he’ll get rich from it,” manager Gary mused and he’s probably right. But we are all richer for Tony’s service to America.

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  IOWA

  HAMBURG INN NO. 2

  214 NORTH LINN ST | IOWA CITY, IA 52245

  319-337-5512 | WWW.HAMBURGINN.COM

  OPEN DAILY 6:30 AM–11 PM

  Chances are that if you’ve been to Iowa City you’ve been to the Hamburg Inn. Since 1948 this hamburger destination has been serving fresh-ground burgers to University of Iowa students and professors and faithful regulars, and more recently has become a sort of base camp for politicos rambling through town on the campaign trail. Everyone from local politicians to presidential hopefuls has made press stops at the Hamburg Inn. They are there to talk to the people and, naturally, be photographed enjoying America’s favorite food. But the burger at Hamburg is not just a photo-op prop, it’s the real deal and, thanks to second-generation owner Dave Panther, a high-quality one at that.

  Dave inherited the Hamburg Inn No. 2 from his father, Fritz Panther. Fritz’s older brother Joe opened Hamburg Inn No. 1 in the mid-1930s, a small, classic ten-stool hamburger stand featuring burgers for a nickel. In 1948, Fritz and another brother, Adrian, bought a defunct restaurant (the
current location) and called it Hamburg Inn No. 2. At one point there was a No. 3 in Cedar Rapids but today both No.1 and No. 3 are long gone. Only No. 2 remains.

  Dave, who moonlights as a professional clown, started working for his parents at the restaurant at age thirteen, peeling potatoes. After a stint in the U.S. Air Force, Dave started working full time at the Hamburg Inn and in 1979 assumed ownership.

  Since the beginning, chuck steaks have been ground daily on premises. A six-ounce ice cream scoop is used to measure the balls of ground beef. The balls of meat are pressed on the griddle and assume a somewhat uneven beauty. Fritz bought a patty maker back in the 1950s but returned it after three days, fully dissatisfied with the results. “He said the patty maker changed the complexion and nature of the whole product,” Dave remembered. Five decades later not a single preformed patty has ever graced the griddle at the Hamburg Inn.

  The burgers are served on large, toasted, cornmeal-dusted kaiser rolls. Five different types of cheese are available, as are an abundance of toppings ranging from the standard tomato and lettuce to the slightly bizarre pineapple. Honestly, don’t be blinded by the options—this burger, made from choice beef, is so fresh it’d be a shame to cover it with anything other than a bun.