Hamburger America (16 page)

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.

 

 

W
hen 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.

 

 

C
hances 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.

The menu at the Hamburg Inn is enormous, offering every type of comfort food imaginable. Dave gradually expanded the menu over the decades and was responsible for adding a favorite breakfast item, the omelet. The burger takes center stage for lunch and dinner but it’s the omelet, served in unlimited combinations, that captivates the morning crowd. “We have a guy that comes in and orders a cream cheese, black olive, and raisin omelet,” Dave told me. “That’s about the
weirdest combination we’ve made.” One of the restaurant’s most popular omelets contains, not surprisingly, a healthy dose of the Hamburg Inn’s ground beef. It’s called the “Zadar” and is named after a local movie that was filmed at the restaurant. With ground beef and American cheese, it’s basically a hamburger omelet. A great idea and probably the only one of its kind in America.

While campaigning for the presidency, Obama stopped in but got an omelet to go (apparently it was early in the morning). The walls of the Hamburg Inn are covered with vintage photos and one wall is dedicated to American politics. There’s even a plaque over table #6 that trumpets a visit by former president Ronald Reagan. President Clinton visited as well, but has not been honored with a plaque (yet). I asked Dave where Clinton sat on his visit to the Hamburg Inn and he told me, “Just to the left of Reagan’s table.” The political humor was not lost on me.

 

 

I
f you find yourself eating a burger at the Irish Shanti, deep in the rolling farmland of northeast Iowa, it’s because you made a point of being there. “People come here to eat the burger,” son of the Shanti’s owner Hans Walsh told me, “or they are lost.” The town of Gunder, Iowa is barely on the map and the Irish Shanti, across from a defunct gas station, is the only business in town. Though remote, this destination restaurant manages to fill the dining room on most nights and suggests reservations on weekends. “People will drive for several hours to come here to eat,” Hans told me. Many of them are in search of a menu item that has made this corner of Iowa famous—the “Gunderburger.”