Hamburger America

by George Motz

  MON–SAT 7 AM–9 PM | SUN 8 AM–9 PM

  The Spot has been a fixture in the center of downtown Sidney, Ohio for over a century. The large, gleaming neon sign over the front door is a beacon to those in search of genuine diner food and one of the best burgers in the country—the “Big Buy.”

  The first time I stepped into this updated time-warp diner with its two-tone leather booths and vintage Coke signage I thought the place may have lost its way. Then an old-timer got up from his booth, approached the vintage jukebox and put on Little Anthony’s “Tears on My Pillow” and the whole place was transformed. The ownership had not fallen prey to ’50s kitsch. They had merely embraced it. A major remodeling effort in 1976 updated the interior of The Spot to a wood-paneled “country kitchen” look and it took sixth owner Michael Jannides to rescue the diner and restore it to its original character. “I wanted to bring the place back to the way it looked in the ’40s,” Michael explained, and he did so with amazing detail.

  Don’t let the sock hop décor fool you. The Spot actually dates back to a time well before Elvis was King. In 1907 Spot Miller was selling food from a cart on the location where the restaurant now sits. The cart eventually became a permanent structure that burned down in 1940. A year later, the second owners rebuilt The Spot in the Art Moderne style that remains today.

  Michael was no stranger to The Spot when he assumed ownership of the Ohio hamburger icon in 1999. In 1989, Michael took a part-time job at The Spot and liked what he saw. His grandfather owned an ice cream parlor in Sidney when he was growing up, and this most likely influenced Michael’s decision to buy The Spot.

  There are many diner favorites on the menu like the BLT, the tuna salad sandwich, the seasonal mincemeat pie, and a house-made tenderloin sandwich. Michael confessed, “We’ve added things to the menu over the years but people come in for the burgers.” For sure, the burger remains the number one seller at The Spot. The restaurant can go through up to 1000 on a busy Friday.

  I had blinders on when I saw the best seller on the long burger menu—the “Big Buy.” Advertised as a triple-decker, the Big Buy is actually a double patty burger with one of those bun inserts in between the patties (like you’d find on a Big Mac). Cooked on a flattop griddle, the Big Buy is served on a toasted, white squishy bun with shredded lettuce, pickles, American cheese, and a house-made tartar sauce. The taste of this thing is phenomenal, although you’ll find lifting the Big Buy to your face a challenge. The two quarter-pound square patties slip and slide in the tartar sauce and make a mockery of the bun. If you can manage to get a solid bite that includes all of the ingredients, you are in for a treat. The tartar, tangy and sweet, plays to the beefiness of the burger with the cheese lending a salty hand.

  The Spot grinds and patties their own burgers and have done so for years. Michael showed me the patty maker he inherited with the purchase of the restaurant, a strange looking contraption with many parts. From what I could tell, the burgers are not “pressed” or “stamped” like most patty machines, rather they are extruded sideways through a narrow opening and cut into squares. The patty, when cooked, stays loose and almost crumbly, most likely from not being pressed in the patty-making process.

  Grab a booth or a spot at the counter along the window, then place your order at the register in the rear of the restaurant. When your order is ready, listen for your number to be called over a loudspeaker and pick up your burgers at the counter. At The Spot you can also enjoy traditional carhop service in one of the restaurant’s 21 parking spaces. Regulars have enjoyed carhop service for decades and as Michael put it, “It never went out of vogue here!”

  After six owners I have a feeling this place will be around for a while. Almost everything at The Spot is fresh and made to order, which is a tough claim for most diners today. Michael is committed to keeping the dream alive and continues that spirit by sticking to the basics.

  SWENSON’S DRIVE IN

  658 EAST CUYAHOGA FALLS AVE | AKRON, OH 44310

  (6 OTHER LOCATIONS IN AKRON, CANTON, AND CLEVELAND)

  330-928-8515 | WWW.SWENSONSDRIVEINS.COM

  SUN–THU 11 AM–MIDNIGHT

  FRI & SAT 11 AM–1:30 AM | CLOSED MONDAY

  I was happy to find that classic carhop drive-in culture is alive and well in Ohio. Anyone who has ever visited the Cuyahoga Falls Avenue location of Swenson’s can tell you that. There are other large burger chains in the United States that employ carhops but I’ve never seen anything like the energy displayed by the carhops at Swenson’s. For these carhops, delivery of a burger to your car is a true sport.

  My first impression of Swenson’s, with its young men and women in white polo shirts darting back and forth, was that something was wrong. These carhops were moving way too fast for college-age kids. A half-dozen carhops crisscross with trays of burgers and drinks at lightning speed, often running into each other entering and leaving the kitchen area. When a car pulls up to the 58-year-old drive-in, the driver barely has to flash lights before a carhop is sprinting in their direction. And when a regular pulls up, the carhops all shout out their name in singsong fashion, “Angela’s here!” or “Omar’s here!” It’s pretty incredible to witness and a great show to watch. Swenson’s hires only college students for their youth and their flexible schedules. “It’s a rigorous, hard job,” Patty Palmer from Swenson’s main office told me. “It takes a special person to do that.”

  The Cuyahoga Falls Avenue location is the oldest physical structure dating back to 1952 but the local chain now boasts seven locations in Akron, Canton, and Cleveland, all drive-ins with carhops, or “curb-servers” as they are referred to at Swenson’s. Wesley “Pop” Swenson opened his first drive-in in 1934 after he had success selling burgers from his station wagon to high school students as classes let out. The Swenson family sold the business in the late’50s to the Phillips family who in turn sold it to current owner Steve Thompson in 1974 (a former curb server himself at Swenson’s in the’60s). He was responsible for expanding the business by adding five additional locations, as well as rebuilding the original 1934 West Akron drive-in. The Phillips family probably ran the drive-ins well, but Steve had an added advantage. Friendly with Pop’s granddaughter, Steve was able to get the original Swenson recipes making the drive-in today as authentic as it could possibly be.

  The menu at Swenson’s is large and offers Ohio classics like the fried bologna sandwich and the Sloppy Joe, but the burgers are the star attraction, headlining the top of the menu. The signature burger at Swenson’s is the “Galley Boy,” a double cheeseburger with two special sauces. I deduced that one sauce was mayonnaise and the other was barbecue sauce. “You are sort of right but not quite,” Patty told me. Clearly the sauces are a secret. There are many condiments available at Swenson’s, but if you ask for everything, you’ll get mustard, pickles, and raw onion. But the Galley Boy, with its two sauces, two 3-ounce patties, and cheese, is perfect.

  All of the burgers are served on buns that are a special recipe and been made exclusively for Swenson’s by the local Massoli Italian Bakery. Fresh ground beef is delivered daily to each of the locations in the chain, pattied and shipped out from their central commissary location in North Akron.

  Swenson’s is also known for its shakes and the incredible chocolate peanut butter is one of the most popular. There are 18 flavors to choose from with “limitless combinations,” Patty explained. Swenson’s also offers seasonal flavors, like the immensely popular pumpkin shake in the fall.

  People are crazy about Swenson’s and the restaurant has a solid legion of fans. “It’s bizzaro!” Patty explained of the lengths some fanatics go to enjoy their Swenson’s burgers. “We just sent two burgers to a wedding for the bride and groom,” Patty explained. That’s right, the newlyweds ate Swenson’s burgers, and the guests ate the catered food. That is my kind of wedding.

  THURMAN CAFE

  183 THURMAN AVE | COLUMBUS, OH 43206

  614-443-1570 | WWW.THETHURMANCAFE.COM

&n
bsp; OPEN DAILY 11 AM–2:30 AM, SUNDAY TO 1 AM

  The quaint, historic German Village in Columbus, Ohio, with its low, ancient buildings and streets paved with red brick, is the perfect setting for this broken-in, dark and cozy tavern. The menu at Thurman Cafe is loaded with great food from decades-old family recipes like the Coney sauce for the hot dogs and terrific French fries. But it’s the burger you came to eat, so settle into one of the odd-shaped booths and prepare to feast on one of the tallest burgers in the land—the “Thurman Burger.”

  Thurman Cafe has all the trappings of a typical time-tested favorite local hang—walls covered with the obligatory license plates, beer ads, and old photos. But look a little closer and discover the amazing ceiling covered in vintage Budweiser wallpaper and the thousands of signed dollar bills dangling over the bar area like party decorations. Chances are, while you are waiting for your Thurman Burger to arrive, one will pass by on its way to another customer. Your first glance at the famed burger will result in an audible gulp that signals either fear or hunger. This is because the Thurman Burger is enormous.

  Macedonian immigrants Nancho and Dena Suclescy opened the Thurman Cafe in 1937. Today, more than 70 years later, the café is still in the Suclescy family, run by third-generation siblings Mike, Paul, and Donna.

  There are many different burgers on the menu, but it’s the Thurman Burger that outsells them all. The creation starts with a three-quarter-pound patty of griddled fresh ground beef that is topped with (follow me here) grilled onions, lettuce, tomato, sliced sautéed mushrooms, pickle, jalapeño slices, mayonnaise, and a half-pound mound of sliced ham. The pile of ingredients is then covered with both mozzarella and American cheese, capped with a toasted bun, and speared with extra-long toothpicks. When I say tall, I’m guessing this burger stands no less than seven inches high. Get your mouth ready.

  “The best way to eat this thing,” local burger expert and friend Jim Ellison told me, “is to press it down and flip it over. The juices have already destroyed the bottom bun.” He was right, and flipping worked, but after the first few bites something went wrong and my burger imploded. The combination of ingredients and sheer size beg for your patience. Take your time and enjoy this pile of goodness. It’s a sloppy burger.

  On a busy Saturday at Thurman, the kitchen will prepare and serve up to 500 of the famed burgers. “We go through over 1,500 pounds of beef a week,” Mike Suclescy told me. Good meat too. Mike buys only top-quality 85/15 ground chuck and told me, “We ran out once and went over to the Kroger Supermarket for ground beef. The taste just wasn’t the same.”

  The “Blue Cheeseburger” (for which the Suclescys go through over eight gallons of blue cheese dressing a week) is also a big seller as is the “Macedonian,” served on Texas toast with sweet red peppers. Or try the new “Thurmanator,” a Thurman Burger on top of a cheddar cheeseburger. You heard correctly, it’s basically a double Thurman Burger. A regular cheeseburger has been banished to the bottom of the menu, clearly a lightweight choice at this tavern.

  My favorite-sounding concoction was the “Johnnie Burger.” Invented by a chronic tequila-quaffing regular, the Johnnie is a three-quarter-pound burger with bacon and blue cheese that’s drizzled with a shot of top-shelf 1800 tequila. No lettuce, tomato, or mayo is offered because, as Johnnie once explained, “If I wanted a salad, I’d order one!”

  WILSON’S SANDWICH SHOP

  600 S. MAIN ST | FINDLAY, OH 45840

  419-422-5051 | MON–THU 7AM–10PM

  FRI–SAT 7AM–MIDNIGHT | SUN 2PM–10PM

  It’s hard to miss Wilson’s as you roll through downtown Findlay, Ohio. The restaurant is on a busy crossroads in the center of town with the word WILSON spelled above the front door in large black letters. Across the street sits the impressive former Marathon Oil world headquarters: a beautiful glass, steel, and concrete monument to the automobile age.

  Wilson’s has walls of windows on three sides. From inside, the sun-drenched space makes you feel like you’re in a huge fishbowl. Grab a stool at one of the long counters lining the windows, watch small town America unfold, and enjoy a fresh-ground hamburger and a chocolate malt.

  The building is the second constructed in the restaurant’s long history. The first, built in 1936, was a stunning example of enamel steel road food culture. It was replaced with a greatly expanded Wilson’s in the mid-sixties. During construction of the new Wilson’s, the tiny yellow restaurant was pushed to the back of the parking lot and remained open. The original Wilson’s was as narrow as a subway car and held only 32 people. Today’s newer building seats over 130 hungry patrons in a wide dining room filled with a combination of booths, tables, and counters. Expect to find a line to the door at lunch and dinner.

  Stub Wilson opened Wilson’s Sandwich Shop in 1936. A few years earlier, Stub had opened two Kewpee restaurants in nearby Lima, Ohio and decided to open another in Findlay. Finding another Kewpee already in Findlay (the restaurants were independently owned), he chose to name the new restaurant after himself. When Stub Wilson died, he passed all three restaurants onto his managers—the Kewpees in Lima went to Harrison Shutt and Wilson’s went to three managers, Woody Curtis, Wilber Fenbert, and Lance Baker. Today, Wilson’s is part owned and run by Lance Baker’s widow, Pat. After a few years of decline, Pat stepped in to take charge of the situation. “I got everybody back on track and back in uniforms.” She was wise not to change the menu and she told me, “The burgers are still hot, juicy, and good!”

  There’s no question that the burgers at Wilson’s are fresh. Three times a week the restaurant receives a delivery of 600 pounds of beef from a slaughterhouse in Lima. Every morning the staff grinds and patties enough for the day’s burgers. A patty machine attached to the grinder forms them into square patties, a shape that Wendy’s popularized in the late 1960s but actually hails from the original Kewpee restaurants.

  The basic, three-and-a-half-ounce griddled burger comes with mustard, pickle, and onion. Make it a “Special” and you’ll also get lettuce, tomato, and mayo (for only 40 cents more). Just think; it only takes 40 cents to make your burger special.

  Similarities between the Kewpees of Lima and Wilson’s still exist, but the most notable is the historically significant vegetable sandwich. Listed on the menu as the “Veggie,” this meatless sandwich (a Special without the patty) is a product of the WWII years when meat rationing forced many burger stands to adapt or shut down. White Castle temporarily embraced the grilled cheese sandwich, many others went to fish sandwiches, and Wilson’s (and the Kewpees of Lima) introduced the vegetable sandwich.

  Wilson’s is the type of happy place that you remember from your youth. People come from all over to eat the burgers they ate growing up in Findley. Mark Metcalf, an actor from Findley best known for his role as the R.O.T.C. commander Neidermeyer in the film Animal House, recalls Wilson’s burgers fondly. He told me by phone, “My grandfather used to go down to Wilson’s and bring back bagfuls of hamburgers.” Pat is aware of the restaurant’s popularity and its place in the memory of anyone who was raised on Wilson’s burgers. And I for one am overjoyed that she had the good sense to step in to basically rescue Wilson’s. She told me, “We want to stick around for a while. We have a seventy-fifth anniversary coming up.”

  29

  OKLAHOMA

  CLAUD’S HAMBURGERS

  3834 SOUTH PEORIA BLVD | TULSA, OK 74105

  918-742-8332 | TUES, WED, & SAT 10:30 AM–4 PM

  THU & FRI 10:30 AM–8 PM | CLOSED SUN & MON

  The hours posted in the window at Claud’s are correct but slightly loose depending on the number of people waiting outside for the 56-year-old hamburger counter to open. “Depends on how I feel that morning,” Robert Hobson said with a smile after opening a few minutes early. “Every day is different.”

  Robert and his brother, Cliff, own the tiny, bright diner in the neighborhood of Brookside, just south of downtown Tulsa. In 1985, Claud Hobson passed the business to his sons, who had already put in
plenty of years behind the counter. “I was four months old when he moved to this location [in 1965],” Robert told me. “I guess you can say I’ve been here all my life.”

  The interior of Claud’s is clean and utilitarian, with white walls and a long counter lined with short green and chrome swivel stools. The Hobsons have only the absolute basics behind the faux-wood Formica counter: a flattop griddle, refrigerators, and a deep fryer, everything in gleaming stainless steel. Large picture windows allow ample daylight to stream in and passing cars on South Peoria send flashes down the counter.

  The burgers at Claud’s are a lesson in simplicity. When Claud was at the griddle your options were only mustard, pickle, and onion. Today, his sons have expanded options slightly to include lettuce and tomato. American cheese reigns supreme but as Robert told me with a sigh, “We also offer pepper jack cheese, but I think I made three yesterday.” Robert is a man after my own heart. “Our main focus is the meat,” He told me standing at the griddle. “When you cover it up with all that stuff you lose the taste.”

  The burger to get at Claud’s is the double cheeseburger with onions. The onion is not just a slice tossed on cold or grilled to limp. When you order yours with onions watch what happens. To the right of the flattop is a small piece of white marble embedded in the countertop. Robert takes a patty, slaps it onto the marble, and works a handful of chopped raw onion into the patty with the back of a stiff spatula. He then takes the flattened patty and plops it, onion-side down, onto the hot flattop. If you require a double, Robert takes two patties and stacks them on the marble and works them together with the spatula. The result is a very flat, wide burger that hangs far outside the white squishy bun, a style that has been Claud’s for decades.