I finally understand the East Coast vs. West Coast rivalry rooted so deeply in the '90s hip hop community. Fundamentally, I'm pretty sure that it's about breakfast food.
Obviously, the East Coast is the undefeated champion when it comes to streamlined chrome diners, all night joints where one can unashamedly order a kitchen-sink omelette just as easily at four in the afternoon as four in the morning. Where the West wins is corny coffee shops - Googie-style affairs with kooky rooflines and even kookier theming.
Pancake Circus (1960) - Sacramento, CA
To visit Sacramento is to learn that Pancake Circus is the Tupac of themed coffee shops. Seriously, when told that the kitchen would not make her pancakes in the form of Tupac's famous West Coast hand sign, Mary requested that they at least arrange her bacon in the shape of a "W."
The kitchen, the counter, and some of Pancake Circus' OGs.
Waiting for our meal to arrive, we engaged in all the usual coffee shop shenanigans - shooting the paper wrapping off our straws, loosening the lids on the pepper shakers, playing the rims of our water glasses etc. It wasn't until we began balancing spoons on the ends of our noses, that I realized what was happening; at Pancake Circus, we were the circus. The spoons were little more than large rubber balls and we were the seals. Here, the two-dimensional animal cutouts watched as we, trapped in our naugahyde cages, wildly tore into the food delivered by our keepers/servers.
See what I mean?!
He's an animal!
Stalking her country potatoes like big cat!
To distract myself from the startling realization that we could easily be mistaken for circus animals (and to rethink my questionable comparison of Pancake Circus to Tupac Shakur), I decided to take some pictures...
Under the lights of the BIG TOP!
If clowns (paintings, plushies, porcelain dolls, parachuters) are not your thing, then I still say go to Pancake Circus! Think of it as phobia therapy.
Because these people are not clowning around!!!
Or are they?
Mind if we drop in?
"Uh...no, thanks!'
My favorite part of the Pancake Circus went unnoticed by nearly every other diner in the restaurant;
it's that accordion-style partition (above) that closes not in a straight line but in a swoosh!
I love my family.
I love this photo.
I also love the incredible walls, slightly obscured by the elephant
cutout; the matchstick mosaic is studded with tiger-eye glass tiles.
Prior to running away with the Pancake Circus, we met an older couple in town who told us that going there would be a waste of time. "Oh...there," said the wife, "It used to be cool." I tried to maintain my composure but inside I was shouting, "No duh, lady." I mean, it doesn't often happen that bastions of mid-century morning mealtime dramatically improve with age yet it remains our duty to support them! Sure, the edges are worn, the finishes are dulled, and the clowns are many. But as the old saying goes, "Circus breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
If not the animals, then we definitely left feeling like the
clowns; and that still makes Pancake Circus pretty cool...
Even after hours!
Pancake Circus
2101 Broadway
Sacramento, CA
(916)452-3322
Several years ago, I was sent on a work trip to Chicago. As a diehard fan of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, I could have spent my first time in the "Windy City" recreating his infamous ditch day - the Willis (née Sears) Tower, the German-American Steuben Parade, the Cubs game - but eating pancreas at a snooty (snotty?) French restaurant was simply not in the cards. Instead, I dragged my coworkers along on an epic journey (a train and two busses) to consume organ meats of a more mysterious variety in an atmosphere more peculiarly American.
Superdawg Drive-In (est. 1948) - Chicago, IL
(Source)
Luckily, my pals were good natured and up for a bit of old-timey adventure. Nevertheless, I did get the feeling that they were stunned by the fervor with which I made the pilgrimage to my hot dog holy land, Superdawg Drive-In. I couldn't help but notice their stares as I consumed the titular foodstuffs with unprecedented gusto. And there was no denying the borderline contempt I felt from them when I spent upwards of $80 on Superdawg souvenirs.
Imagine this times ten!
I think I was so busy scarfing hot dogs and stocking up on t-shirts, keychains, and plush hot dogs that I managed to capture but a single photo from the trip.
Mr. Tiny and Lindsay posing with/as Maurie & Flaurie, the anthropomorphized-
sausage representations of Superdawg's founders, Maurie and Flaurie Berman.
The gun show had obviously gone to Winnetka that day...
Typically, one photograph does not a blog post make. So, when my brother and sister-in-law announced a summer trip to the Midwest, including a stop at the original Superdawg location, I told them that they had to dedicate a dawg to me (and take a lot of pictures).
We were first made aware of Superdawg Drive-In by one of the most brilliant documentaries ever made, A Hot Dog Program. Raised on PBS, my younger brother and I would watch and watch and watch again Rick Sebak's magnum opus; every time it appeared on one of the local stations, we vowed to visit each one of the historic hot-dog emporiums before we died (likely of hot dog overdose/coronary disease).
I think he ordered a Whoopercheesie
(cheeseburger) just to be on the safe side.
Initially, Superdawg's rather severe facade can be slightly off-putting. When I think of a friendly, '40s-era, neighborhood hot dog stand, rarely do I picture a stark, black box. While Superdawg has always been family-owned, it has definitely endured its fair share of "updates" over the decades (dining room addition, awnings for the drive-in, etc.). One need only look to the rooftop statues, however, to recognize Superdawg's enduring legacy of wacky tacky.
Images of the rooftop statues are recreated everywhere, even
on the restroom doors. Having worked with many a Chicagoan
at a Chicago-based company, I am tickled to see it referred to as
the washroom.
Undeterred, even after getting grief from locals about it being a corny place for tourists only, my brother and sister-in-law made the trek to Superdawg Drive-In. True to their word, they not only took a lot of photos, they also ordered a lot of food. I'm pretty sure they got one of everything on the menu.
I think this is the Whoopskidawg.
"Whoopski...did I order that?"
I am much more of a purist; if you can call a hot dog in a poppy-seed bun, dressed with mustard, onions, neon-green relish, a dill pickle spear, pickled green tomatoes, and sport peppers, all "contentedly cushioned in Superfries" pure.
Make no mistake, the proprietary hot dog recipe makes the dawgs at Superdawg incredible! Although, what keeps me wanting more is the packaging. Every cup, every box, every bag is adorned with charming sayings alongside amazing illustrations of Maurie & Flaurie.
I mean, look at Maurie on that lounge chair surrounded by the words, "Your Superdawg
lounges inside, contentedly cushioned in Superfries and comfortably attired in..."
AND
"Hiya! From the bottom of my pure beef heart...thanks for giving me this chance to serve you!"
Who could resist?!?!!
She was so taken by the packaging, she forgot her usual
order does not include a hot dog with "the works."
But I say, "When at Superdawg, order the Superdawg!!!"
Sometimes, the best thing to do as a tourist is to visit the touristy places; I couldn't forgive myself if I went all the way to Barcelona without visiting La Sagrada Familia. And touristy or not, hunger be not proud. If the nearly-seventy-year-old Superdawg Drive-In was the city's only representation of the way Chicagoland does hot dogs, then I am ready to declare Superdawg as the real "Sausage King of Chicago!" They get every "dawggone" detail right, right down to the style in which they serve their legions of loyal patrons.
"I'm doing my darnd'est to serve every item, every time, to every customer, in a manner to make you want to return...and bring your friends with you." If that is Superdawg's mission statement, then it is working. As if I wasn't already in a constant state of desperation for a Superdawg myself, I am always thrilled to bring my friends with me by ringing the "Chow Time" bell for the best hot dogs in town!
Superdawg Drive-In
6363 N Milwaukee Ave
Chicago, IL
(773)763-0660
I have fallen off the "Healthy Eating" wagon so often that I've determined my best bet is simply to tether my cankle to the wagon and just get dragged behind, hoping for the best. Predictably, the knot in the rope seemed to slip a little when I saw the neon wonder of a short-order cook proffering a hamburger in one hand and a piece of pie in the other.
Situated on a bustling corner of Alhambra's Main St, is an under-appreciated institution of Southern California's wartime gastronomy. Looking from the outside like something straight out of a Hollywood movie's "Main St," Bun 'N Burger (est. 1941), is just shy of its 75th anniversary of serving America's greatest taste sensation, the burger ('n the bun too).
Bun 'N Burger - Alhambra, CA
The angled corner entry, the awnings, and that marvelous signage are all so wonderfully stereotypical of a burger joint of its vintage. After countless disappointing, after-hours drives-by (why am I always in Alhambra after dark???), I was excited to finally get a chance to experience what lay beyond the locked doors of Bun 'N Burger.
The obligatory red booths and counter stools are set solidly in place before formica tables and countertops.
I immediately fell head over heals for the gleaming, stainless-steel fixtures including that monstrous exhaust hood.
I would thrill to see the two-tone green color story of the exterior brought under foot in the form of linoleum tiles.
Quiet, quick, and courteous, the service at Bun 'N Burger is top notch. I was so lost in snapping photos that the waitress finally had to snap me out of it just to take my order.
Oh darn, I just missed menudo....
Convinced that I was making a healthy choice by ordering a grilled chicken sandwich with no cheese and no mayo (I might be the last person on Earth that foolishly does not consider bread the enemy), I realized that the waitress probably felt sorry for me and brought my sandwich with a side of guacamole (healthy fat and omega something something, right?) AND a side of fries.
Waffle-cut fries!!!
There would be no saving room for pie...
As well as "Professional Waffle-Cut Fry Connoisseur," one of my many dream jobs would be "Make-Under Artist." As frequently and as fiercely as I tout the ideology, "Too much is never enough," I often think that what old-fashioned eateries could really tolerate is a heavy dose of good, old-fashioned decluttering - particularly where totally-unrelated miscellanea is concerned. When will retro diners/coffee shops/et al. realize that were they all landmarks on old Route 66, the"Mother Road" would've been a highly-circuitous eight-million-miles long!
At some point in its history, Bun 'N Burger created an additional dining room by expanding into an adjoining space - as much to accommodate more guests as to accommodate the growing collection of reproduction Coca-Cola memorabilia, I'd wager. Is it so wrong that I just want to see the streamlined bones of a streamline-era restaurant? All Bun 'N Burger needs is a fair bit of curation by someone with a level head and a keen eye. However, there are definitely a few select collectibles that I think should remain; I mean, who can resist a taxidermied swordfish?!!
And this loving tribute to the King...there's always
room in a wacky tacky environment for black velvet.
"Hot Dog" - Elvis Presley
What goes better together than hot dogs and hamburgers, I ask you?
Bun 'N Burger
1000 E Main St
Alhambra, CA
(626)281-6777
