Big Ed's bigger legend than you may realize

41 years later, last location standing still pumping out burgers and fries from scratch

Burgers have been on my mind and in my belly far more than they should lately.

Sure, National Burger Month is coming, and a few days ago I shared news about Oklahoma’s burger game streaming before a potentially global audience. But it’s the reboot of my top 10 burger list that’s turned me into Wimpy. (Occurs to me Wimpy would’ve had to change his grift in the Venmo age.)

This (mostly) delicious journey began with me believing we were in a  golden age for burgers in the 405 diningscape.

But is it?

Some folks would argue the golden age of burgers was the 1970s, when after nearly three decades of drive-ins dominating the burger industry, the burger joint was expanding. Even Beverly’s Pancake House unveiled the Big Bev Burger around that time.

The drive-ins didn’t die, they expanded. Sonic was on the verge of going national, Del Rancho introduced a pint-sized gunfighter with a cap gun to local television, and even The Charcoal Oven grew to three locations.

Then came Big Ed’s Hamburgers in 1974.

Founder Ed Thomas was a legendary figure in the local food-service industry. The legend goes that he opened the first Big Ed’s downtown with 36 cents and a day’s worth of supplies purchased on promises. Next thing you knew, there were nearly 50 of them.

If you ever want to unleash the yarn-spinning superpowers of Ned Shadid Sr., simply mention Ed’s name. Ned was Ed’s right hand during the expansion of the franchise during the 70s and 1980s, reaching 46 stores across the state and reaching into southern Kansas. Ed’s daughter Nicole runs Epic Events these days, and she is a true friend to this newsletter.

Ned was in charge of selling franchises at one time. He told me years ago it was a job that kept him so busy there was barely time to sleep back in the late 70s and early 80s. Among the stores haunting Ned’s sleep in those days was No. 14.

That store opened in 1982 in Camelot Square. In the next decade, it would become one of 46.

The downturn of Big Ed’s was tragic. Certainly in a business sense, but the human tragedy was unthinkable. In 1986, Ed’s wife Jennie was driving a car struck head-on by a car knocked across the center-line by an uninsured motorist under the influence of alcohol.

Jennie survived the crash but suffered injuries that required her to live under constant medical monitoring for the rest of her life. The financial toll eventually forced Ed to sell his interests in the company, including the brand. At that point, Big Ed’s was down to about 16 stores.

Today, No. 14 is the last-remaining Big Ed’s location. Cyrus Naheed and his wife Patty remain the owners after all these years and a pandemic.

I popped in earlier this week for lunch and found the place, including black-and-white checked tile, mostly unchanged. The walls are still adorned by pictures of Big Ed himself, including a photo with an early iteration of the Big Ed’s Challenge. The three-pound gimmick burger, which could be had for free if one could down it along with a trough of fries in 45 minutes, eventually evolved when Thomas worked with La Baguette Bakery in Norman to create a round bun 12 inches in diameter.

Naheed’s menu now includes gyros, but the burgers are still thin patties griddled to order served with lettuce tomatoes, and onion. The fries are hand-cut daily.

Lunch was pure nostalgia, hearkening back to college days when a Big Ed’s burger was the most expensive dish I could afford. Big Ed’s remains a great budget burger. My double-cheeseburger, fries and bottomless soda cost me $10.95, which is surely the new $4.95 – $5.95, tops.

There is no fancy bun or condiments at Big Ed’s, unless you count bottles of Louisiana Hot Sauce (ideal for fries!). My burger was hot and fresh, and the fries truly remarkable.

Freshly hand-cut fries might be the greatest challenge in food-service history. Delivering thinly sliced potatoes in a crisp, pleasing manner takes time and attention to detail. Folks hungry for French fries are in no mood to wait the hour or so it would take to cut and properly cook the fries at home. That’s why most of the fries served at restaurants have been par-cooked in oil, flash-frozen and stored in a walk-in freezer until they’re ordered. They’re then fried a second time.

If the spuds aren’t bought frozen, the kitchen must clean, cut, and par-cook them before finding a available storage for pans full of soaking potato slices.

The fries I got from Big Ed’s were as good an example of hand-cut fries from scratch as I’ve had in a restaurant. The burger delivered, too. I don’t expect it will land on my final top 10, but this is the budget burger I grew up on and get a hankering for more often than I like to admit.

Naheed has said many times he’s committed to keeping Ed’s legacy alive in part because of the man he was. Ed passed away in 2009 at the age of 66; Jennie in 2014 at the age of 73.

Nicole tells me her dad lived his dream with Big Ed’s, but no dream-come-true could be worth the personal tragedy the Thomas family endured.

But as long as Cyrus and Patty Naheed are serving burgers they’ll do it the way “Big Ed” Thomas taught them: From fresh ingredients at a fair price, one customer at a time.