Notes from America

Scenes from an old-fashioned cross-country road trip

This week finds me on an old-fashioned road trip across the country, where you are reminded of why the broad middle of the country that the coastal elites disdain as “flyover country” is the heart of Trump Country. Lots of flags, big churches with big crosses, $2.60 a gallon gasoline, gun stores, knife stores, fireworks stores, an Indian-casino at every offramp on I-40 in Oklahoma (cleared $100 at the blackjack tables on a quick break at one of them), and above all, everyone inside every gas station/convenience store stop telling you to “have a blessed day.” Everyone is nice, and minding their own business.

The newest revelation of this trip (my 13th cross-country trip if I have counted correctly) is the latest and greatest road-trip innovation of capitalism—Buc-ee’s. What can you say of a mega-auto stop that has a rodent for its logo and mascot? Buc-ee’s is truly the WalMart of roadside stops; if I lived within driving distance of one I might go there just to go there. Buc-ee’s breakfast “beast” burrito lives up to the name. It is the lembas bread of highway cuisine; one of these beasts can indeed fill you for a whole day. I’ll just assert it here and risk the wrath of John Yoo that Buc-ee’s > WaWa. (Don’t expect Buc-ee’s to come to California any time soon. I’m sure California’s hostile business climate will keep them out.)

But the highlight of this trip without question was a stop I’ve long had on my Measuring-Cup List (which is a lesser version of the Bucket List, which I shall explain presently): The Big Texan Steak Ranch House and Brewery just off I-40 in Amarillo, Texas.

The Big Texan is the most Texas-y place that ever Texas’d. You may have heard of it: it’s the place that serves a 72-ounce steak that is free if you can eat it—along with the side orders that include a shrimp cocktail—in an hour. Over 90,000 people have taken the challenge since it started back in the 1960s (we saw two challengers last night, who both fell short but took home a lot of leftovers), and over 10,000 have won it.

Now, I might have tried the challenge 30 years ago or more, but today that just looks like all kinds of digestive nightmares for a week. The record for the fastest winner is held by Molly Schuyler, described as a “competitive eater,” who finished the whole shebang in four minutes and 58 seconds, beating the old record of former MLB pitcher Frank Pastore of nine minutes and 30 seconds. Did I mention that Molly Schuyler is only 125 lbs? I’m not sure I want to know what happens after she finishes an eating competition. I’d say she is the Joey Chestnut of competitive eaters, except guess what—Joey Chestnut has the second-fastest time, at just under nine minutes.

You know it’s a great place when the kid’s menu is next to the wine list, and printed on a placemat.

I have sometimes been misidentified as a competitive eater when I’m presented with an excellent cheeseburger on an empty stomach, and one long-time friend has suggested that the epitaph on my tombstone should read, “You going to finish that burger?” But I could never even think of attempting a 72-ounce slab of beef, except as the last meal on death row, which I would have to eat so slowly that I could probably turn into the equivalent of executive clemency.

That’s why visiting The Big Texan was only a Measuring Cup List item. I’m at the age when I nowadays listen to the Mild Chili Peppers and Slight Annoyance Against the Machine (which is usually a printer anyway). No grand buckets for me; a measuring cup is more . . . measured.

My other serendipitous discovery on this trip is Braum’s Ice Cream Parlor and Dairy Store. It serves great burgers and other sandwich offerings in dozens of locations in Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas, and Missouri. Family-owned since the 1930s, it has the wholesome feel of our beloved In-n-Out Burgers in California. Highly recommended.

Why have I never thought of "Breakfast Happy Hour"?