The Story of the Best Cheeseburger Around

Pickled eggs.

It’s funny what sticks with you from your childhood.  When I was a kid, “Big John” Maxwell ran a package store not far from our house.  Sometimes, my dad would stop and pick up a case of cold Budweisers on a Saturday and I’d go in with him.  I remember being fascinated with the beef jerky, red hot sausages, and there was always a group of older men solving what sounded to be grave, important matters.  Truth is, they were probably talking about how many games the Braves were gonna lose that summer.  Behind the counter stood the proprietor, Big John Maxwell himself.  He spoke in a loud, booming, but friendly voice and smoked an ever present cigar.  However, what captivated me early on was a giant jar of pickled eggs next to the cash register.  

But even more than the pickled eggs, I remember when Tommy Hall opened a takeout window on the end of the building in 1978.  He had grown up around the restaurant business and now it was his time to make his own mark.  He had recently married John’s daughter Vicki and the venture was a family affair.  Vicki took the orders and rang up customers up while Tommy manned the grill.  They used Big John’s wife’s recipes for pies.  They called their new place “Big John’s Treat Shoppe” and, thus, the legend began.  

I don’t throw the term legend around loosely.   Simply put, their cheeseburger is my favorite.  Why is that important?  Well, let’s just say that I consider myself a connoisseur of cheeseburgers.  I mean, take a look here.  Do I look like a guy that would steer you wrong on a food recommendation?

Now, let’s continue.

I’ll take a hard pass on most fast food places, whose burgers taste like lukewarm cardboard.  Same with chain restaurants that try to hide their sub average patty by throwing on a million random items from their pantry.  I really don’t need a quesadilla burger with smoked Gouda, topped with onion straws,  mushrooms, a fried egg, and a caramelized reduction on a brioche bun.  Life is already confusing and I don’t need my burger complicating matters any further.

Just no.  Stop.  You need a cheeseburger from Big John’s.  Order it all the way.  You’ll thank me later.  Tater tots make a nice pairing.

Try the barbecue while you are there.  In fact, they are probably known more for their jumbo pork plate than the burgers these days, though it’s likely a dead heat.  I recommend a side of their brunswick stew and a small cup of hot slaw.  It is so hot that it will cause you to actually form beads of sweat on your forehead when you take a bite and then curl your body in a fetal position afterwards.  You’ll want seconds.

Throughout the years, they’ve branched out to steak & gravy, meatloaf, and fried chicken.  Fried catfish too.  Their chicken and dressing is fit for a family reunion and the pot roast tastes like your momma made it.  They have fried okra, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, black eyed peas, and pintos.  I’d go on, but I’m starting to openly weep at my keyboard and it’s unmanly.

That and it’s making me hungry.

But there’s more to the food.  The odds are stacked against you opening a restaurant.  Customers can have fickle tastes and fancier ones have come and gone, so why has this one stuck around?  When I asked Tommy about it this week, his answer was simple:  

“Treat people well and make everyone feel special.“

He calls them by name.  Many families, like mine, have been coming since they opened.  When we talked this week, he spoke about remembering when my dad brought me by as a little kid and asked how my mom was doing and said he missed seeing everyone.  You don’t get that from an Applebee’s.

Tommy moved his place about thirty minutes down the road a few years back.  It’s closer to his family now and the people of Calhoun, GA have been richer for it and probably a few pounds heavier.  It’s amazing to think about the impact good food and even better people can have on you.  Some may think it’s silly to drive a half an hour for a cheeseburger.  They’d be wrong.

Because it reminds me of a sandy haired, eight year old boy eating one with his dad.