Hamburger America

by George Motz

  The only change Claud’s burger has seen over the years was an increase in the size of the patty from 2 to 3 ounces and a switch from balled-beef to pre-formed patties. After two decades of balling ground chuck to smash into patties, Claud finally purchased a patty machine in the early seventies. “He used to say,” Robert told me, “if someone is smart enough to make a machine to make my life easier, I’m smart enough to buy it.”

  Before it was Claud’s, the burger counter was well known as Van’s Hamburgers, part of a mini-chain in Tulsa. Claud opened his original burger joint in 1954 about 2 miles west of downtown but moved to the Van’s on South Peoria in 1965. “He was actually ‘chosen’ to take over this location,” Robert told me. The busy thoroughfare has its share of burger joints with the 80-year-old Weber’s Root Beer Stand directly across the street and a Sonic Drive-In just two doors down from Claud’s. Amazingly, the Sonic has not affected their business.

  Robert is 45 years young and plans to run the business for a while. “I plan on being here until our seventy-fifth anniversary!” he told me with a chuckle, which would be in 2030. “Maybe longer.”

  FOLGER’S DRIVE-INN

  406 EAST MAIN ST | ADA, OK 74820

  580-332-9808 | MON–FRI 10:30 AM–7 PM

  CLOSED SAT & SUN

  If you didn’t know what you were looking for, you could drive right by Folger’s. The unassuming little ‘50s prefab on the east end of downtown Ada has only two neon signs in the window—one that reads FOLGER’S, the other OPEN. A short flight of red concrete steps leads directly into hamburger heaven. Inside you’ll find a bright, sunny, clean restaurant filled with the friendliest people. I’m not kidding. Within 15 minutes of my visit to Folger’s, I knew everyone in the place.

  Folger’s is definitely a family-run business. In October 1935, G.G. and Christine Folger opened a hamburger concession in the local movie theater just up Main Street. They opened the current location in 1950 and eventually turned over operations and ownership to their two sons, Jim and Jerry Folger. Today, Jim and Jerry spend the better part of their day behind the large flattop griddle and Jerry’s wife, Wanda, works the tiny 12-stool counter. Orders to-go come in on the pay phone by the front door and Jim makes change at the register between burger flips.

  “We have a few other things on the menu but hamburger baskets are 90 percent of our business,” a very busy lunchtime Jim told me. I stood and watched him methodically flip and manage 12 quarter-pound burgers on the griddle at the same time. The Folger brothers engage in a sort of silent culinary dance in their open, narrow kitchen—Jim flips burgers, Jerry dresses them, and Wanda delivers. The dance is repeated over and over again for hours at lunch until hundreds of burgers have been dispensed to happy customers.

  “We’ve been open 75 years now,” Jim told me. “We have quite a bit of loyalty and now five generations of families are coming in.” A regular customer named Mike, smiling and rubbing his belly joked, “You can tell I’ve had a bunch of them.” The burger at Folger’s comes with mustard, onion, lettuce, and tomato. Ask for an “Educated Burger” (not on the menu), and you’ll get a burger that replaces the onion with mayo. Make it a “basket” and you’ll get to experience the other reason you came to Ada—for their outstanding fries. Every day, Folger’s manages to go through over 200 pounds of potatoes for their fresh-cut fries.

  “The produce and meat are fresh, every day,” Jim told me as he flattened another hand-formed patty on the griddle with a long spatula. Jim uses large Wonder buns that are perfectly toasted on the griddle. The finished product is a wide, flat burger that is bursting with greasy goodness and flavor.

  “The grill used to be right behind the counter, and was smaller,” Bill Peterson, the district attorney in Ada, told me. If it had not been for Bill and mutual friend Tom Palmore, I may never have found Folger’s. Both Bill and Tom grew up in Ada and were classmates of Jerry Folger’s. They agreed that Folger’s was not to be missed on the hunt for great burgers in America—they were right.

  HAMBURGER KING

  322 E. MAIN ST | SHAWNEE, OK 74801

  405-878-0488

  WWW.HAMBURGERKINGOKLAHOMA.COM

  MON–SAT 11 AM–8 PM | CLOSED SUNDAY

  Legend has it that there used to be two Hamburger Kings in Oklahoma, one in Shawnee and one in Ada, and the Ada location was lost in a craps game. The owners of both were George “The Hamburger King” Macsas and his brother, Joe. The Macsas brothers emigrated from Beirut to Oklahoma and opened the successful hamburger venture in 1927. Today, more than 80 years later, the Hamburger King still stands in Shawnee and proudly remains in the Macsas family.

  Dusty downtown Shawnee, Oklahoma, feels proudly American. A restaurant named Hamburger King is almost required in this setting, along with the Rexall Drug store, the furniture store (with layaway plans), and the enormous grain elevators on the edge of town. The Hamburger King exists in its third location in Shawnee; the other two were only steps away and the previous one burned down in a grease fire in 1965.

  Soon after the fire, the Macsas family rebuilt a much larger version of their burger restaurant a block up Main Street. Today’s Hamburger King is a large, airy diner awash in pastels. The walls are pink-and-white striped Masonite panels. Two long rows of booths and a small counter in the rear service customers and there are the constant sounds of sizzling burgers and the whir of the milkshake machine. Since 1965, at least, nothing has changed. “We switched to Pepsi once and the people rebelled,” Colleen Macsas told me. Colleen is the restaurant’s manager and met her husband, owner Michael Macsas, at the Hamburger King in 1975.

  The burgers at Hamburger King are fantastic. Fresh 80/20 patties are delivered to the restaurant daily and cooked on a large, well-seasoned flattop griddle. Quarter-pound singles and doubles are offered. Order a double and you’ll get double the cheese as well. Waitress Beverly pointed out, “Most men order the double meat burger.” I was not about to let my manhood be challenged and naturally ordered a double, a half-pound burger loaded with lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, and mustard on a toasted, white squishy bun. This burger is not small. Order a “basket” and you’ll get deep-fried potato wedges or tater tots, not fries.

  The method for ordering your burger at Hamburger King is one of the most unique in America. If you sit at the counter, expect normal interaction with a counterperson. Sit at one of the many booths and you’ll need to place your order by phone. That’s right, each table is equipped with a red phone and a single button—your lifeline to the kitchen. On the other end of the red food phone is a switchboard operator who relays your order to the grill cook. The funny thing is, the restaurant is not so large that you can’t just call out your order, but the quirkiness of the phone system can’t be beat.

  Regulars in a place like Hamburger King are as expected as good burgers. “See those guys over there,” Colleen said to me, pointing to a group of older men at a booth in trucker hats, overalls, and plaid shirts, “they come in here every day and they bring in their wives on Saturday.” Naturally, I had to approach and ask them the obvious, “Do you guys phone in your order?” One guy, smiling, told me, “Naw, they know what we want.”

  HARDEN’S HAMBURGERS

  432 SOUTH SHERIDAN RD | TULSA, OK 74112

  918-834-2558 | WWW.THEHAMBURGERSTORE.COM

  TUE–SAT 11 AM–8 PM

  As I savored the first bite of my “Men’s Burger” at Harden’s, owner Rick West said in his quiet Oklahoma drawl, “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” This smiling, intense burgerman with piercing blue eyes wasn’t asking about the specifics of the burger in my hand. And he wasn’t asking my opinion of this glorious pile of beef and cheese either. I could tell by the tone in his voice that his question had a larger meaning, as if to say, “Isn’t this what everyone really wants?” Oh yes, most certainly.

  Rick started his career in burgers at the age of 12 working at the long-gone Tanner’s Drive-In on Admiral Place and Garnett Road. “I knew that I wanted to be in th
e hamburger business after working for Tanner,” Rick told me. But it wasn’t Tanner that had the largest influence on Rick. In 1987, after spending many years outside the restaurant business, Rick bought the decades-old burger joint from the hamburger icon Johney Harden. Johney taught Rick the secrets to his success.

  As my friend (and local hamburger expert) Joe Price clicked off names of past and present Tulsa burger flippers, Rick said with a serious tone, “Johney trained a lot of those guys.” His influence today is far reaching and can probably be felt in every corner of Tulsa. At one point, Johney even consulted for Wendy’s founder Dave Thomas and designed his first hamburger kitchen.

  A large sign hanging underneath the menu at the register says “We cook ’em with a light pink center.” The burgers come in four sizes. The Girl’s Quarter Pound, the Men’s Double, the Triple, and the 4-patty, one-pound B.O.B. which stands for “Big Old Burger.” “If you are a guy and order a Girl’s Burger, you’re gonna get flak,” Rick warned, “but I love it when a girl orders the Men’s Burger.”

  The most popular burger on the menu is the Men’s Burger, two quarter-pound patties neatly stacked on a toasted, white squishy bun. The burger is cooked on a flattop and is actually cooked with a bit of pink in the middle. The large, well-seasoned burger explodes with flavor and is incredibly moist. Just after the patties of fresh beef hit the griddle, they are sprinkled with a top-secret seasoning. Rick is one of the only people who actually know what is in this seasoning and the company that blends the spices for Harden’s has strict orders to keep it to themselves. “People actually call the spice company all the time for the recipe,” Rick told me.

  Rick Harden

  The onion rings at Harden’s are legendary. Size alone would be a reason to order and ogle these rings. They are so large that they resemble bangle bracelets. They taste amazing. Where most battered onion rings separate on contact, these stay together. Whatever process Rick uses has the batter sticking to the onion like glue.

  In 1997 Rick moved Harden’s from its second location, setting up shop in a former truck rental business that he owned. This incarnation of Harden’s is a virtual museum of mid-century Americana. Authentic enameled steel gasoline and soda signs are everywhere and display cases are full of vintage scale-model cars. Large, detailed model airplanes hang from the ceiling and Rick’s collection of restored pedal cars are spread around the dining room. You could spend hours in Harden’s and still not see everything.

  When you place your order at the register, you are handed an oversized playing card as your “number.” Listen for your suit to be called out over the loudspeaker (i.e. “King of Hearts!”). There is a drive-up window on the north side of the building but Rick dissuades most people from just driving up. “We prefer that you call an order in to pick up at the window.” He explained that he can’t guarantee how the experience will go and recommends that you park and come inside to order. It’s a drive-up, not a drive-thru.

  Burger making is part science and part art and Rick West is clearly at peace with both. He told me, “I watched what Johney did and do it exactly the same way.” Okay, part fear, too, I guess.

  J&W GRILL

  501 WEST CHOCTAW AVE | CHICKASHA, OK 73018

  405-224-9912 | MON–WED 6 AM–2 PM

  THU–SAT 6 AM–9 PM | CLOSED SUNDAY

  “Just down from the courthouse in Chickasha there’s a little place that makes a great burger,” was the advice Bill Peterson gave me. Bill is the district attorney for the area, and a man to be trusted with hamburger knowledge. It was Bill who had led me to the amazing burger at Folger’s in Ada, so hopes were high. Not only was the burger at J&W first-rate, but unbeknownst to Bill, I had stumbled upon one of the most historically important burger joints of the Oklahoma onion-fried burger phenomenon.

  Onion-fried burgers are to this part of Oklahoma what cheesesteaks are to Philadelphia. The epicenter of the onion-fried burger world is 35 miles north from Chickasha in El Reno. This small town near Oklahoma City boasts three of the best burgers in America, served at counters that are only a few hundred feet from each other. The onion-fried burger craze, started in the 1920s, was created in an effort to stretch meat and feed laid-off railroad workers cheaply.

  Restaurants serving the tasty local burger popped up all over town and competition was fierce. But in 1957 a man named Richard Want moved down to Chickasha to open the J&W Grill. He was not alone in his venture though. Johnnie Siler, already successful with Johnnie’s Grill in El Reno, helped to finance the new onion-burger counter.

  In an effort to avoid confusion when attempting to figure out the rich histories of these Oklahoma burger joints, let’s just say that they are all connected in some way. Many owners and employees of the remaining burger stands have all worked at each other’s stands, though most worked for and learned from Johnnie Siler. Current owner Darren Cook seems to be the only burger man in this part of Oklahoma who did not work in El Reno. “I started at J&W when I was 12 years old washing dishes,” Darren told me, “I had to use a milk crate to reach the sink.” When he was 19, he purchased a share in the restaurant, and in 1981, when he was only 23, bought the restaurant outright. Understandably, J&W is his life and he has been at the burger counter for over 35 years. A restaurant in El Reno made a few offers to buy J&W from Darren, but he told me, “I’m only in my forties, what would I do?”

  The J in J&W stands for Johnnie, the W for Want. “I think it was supposed to be ‘S&W’ for their last names but the sign people made a mistake,” Maryann Davis, wife of past owner Jim Davis, told me.

  J&W has everything you’d want in a burger joint—meat ground fresh on premises, onions hand sliced in back, a basic menu, and fast service. The concept is simple. Order a “hamburger” and it comes with onions. A quarter-pound wad of fresh ground beef is pressed onto a hot flattop griddle and sprinkled with a large amount of sliced (not diced) onions. The stringy onions go limp, and the burger is flipped and pressed again, forcing the onions into the cooking beef. The result is a mess of beef and caramelized onions that create a moist burger with an intense onion flavor. At J&W, if you want a double, two wads of beef are pressed together and twice the amount of onion is dispensed.

  The restaurant sits on the busy thoroughfare of Choctaw Avenue near downtown Chickasha. It’s a very visible red and white cinder block structure with a large American flag painted on one side. The long, low, wood-grain Formica counter has sixteen swivel stools that are never empty at lunchtime. “It gets crowded in here at lunch. The line goes out the door,” counterperson Brandi told me. The good news is that the average time at a stool is 10 minutes and, Brandi said with a smile, “We can move them in and out of here in fifteen.”

  Brandi knows just about everyone who walks in the door and calls out their order to the grill cook before they even take a seat. Biscuits and gravy are a big seller in the morning, but she told me some customers order burgers first thing. “We’ll start making burgers at 6 a.m. if someone wants one.”

  When I visited J&W there was no music playing, just the sounds of the exhaust fan, regulars talking about just getting off a night shift, and the sizzle of burgers on the griddle. It was refreshing to enjoy my burger without music for once, just the mesmerizing sounds of America.

  JOHNNIE’S GRILL

  301 SOUTH ROCK ISLAND | EL RENO, OK 73036

  405-262-4721 | MON–SAT 6 AM–9 PM

  SUN 11 AM–8 PM

  Steve Galway is a dedicated man. The first time I visited Johnnie’s to taste an onion-fried burger, the pride of El Reno, Oklahoma, Steve was not there. “He comes in every day at two,” a counterperson told me. But it was 3 p.m. and he was nowhere to be found. That’s because Steve comes in every day at 2 a. m. to prep the restaurant for the day and is gone by 11 a.m. Now that’s dedication to burgers. When I finally caught up with him we had a long talk about what it takes to keep a restaurant successful. “Give the best you’ve got and the people will come back,” are the words he lives by. He must be do
ing something right because every time I’ve been there the place has been packed—the people most definitely come back.

  Don’t be fooled by the fairly nondescript exterior of Johnnie’s Grill. Located on one of the main drags in downtown El Reno, the simple, brick-faced restaurant is set back from the street by a small parking lot. The only windows are the glass in the front door and a small drive-up on one side of the building. The inside is bright and clean with a sea of tables and booths, a fact you could not imagine from a parking lot assessment. There’s also a short counter with seven stools and a clear view of the large flattop griddle that’s usually loaded with onion-fried burgers.

  This version of Johnnie’s is new as of 2005. Prior to that, Johnnie’s was a narrow burger joint at the same location with a counter on the left and four booths on the right. Prior to that, the original location was across the street, but, collapsed under the weight of snow in 1986. Today’s Johnnie’s could easily seat up to a hundred. There’s even a “party table” in the new Johnnie’s that seats twenty.

  But for all its newness, Johnnie’s remains one of the most historically important purveyors of the El Reno onion-fried burger, important because it seems that all roads lead back there. Sid and Marty Hall from the popular Sid’s (only two blocks away) both worked at the counter and Johnnie himself brought the onion-fried burger south when he opened the J&W Grill of Chickasha in 1957.