Eats » double-deck

Bob Wian’s Double-Deck Big Boy Burger

Michael Witzel — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 12:30:17 +0000

Robert Wian learned the restaurant business the hard way. When his father’s furniture business faltered during the early thirties, he took a job washing dishes at the White Log Tavern to help out. Although fresh from high-school, it didn’t take long for him to become manager. His experience was soon rolled over into a better job at the Rite Spot, a Glendale eatery favored by Angelinos. There, he learned all the rules of the eating-out game—realizing he had a growing desire to become his own boss.

When two elderly ladies considered selling out their ten-stool lunch counter on Colorado Boulevard, Wian saw his opportunity. Still, he had to make a painful decision: sell his prized 1933 De Soto roadster to get the bulk of the $350 asking price or pass over the deal. It was a clear choice. The car found a new owner and Wian got the money he needed. The eatery was his! He renamed it Bob’s Pantry and began to work the counter alone.

Members of Chuck Foster’s Orchestra adopted the Pantry as a late-night hangout and stopped in frequently after gigs. High-school pals of Wian’s felt comfortable there, filling up with numerous hamburgers, gallons of Hires root beer, and packets of cigarettes. One frosty night in February of 1937, bass musician Stewie Strange became bored with the usual midnight snack and uttered the historic question, now ensconced in legend: “How about something different for a change, Bob?”

Bob's Pantry, Glendale, California (circa 1934)

In a teasing mood, Wian was quick to accommodate. He proceeded to cut a sesame seed bun into three slices and flipped two burgers onto the griddle. While the meat sizzled, the band watched in fascination as leaves of lettuce and slices of cheese were readied on the sideboard. Finally, the cooked patties were lifted from the hot plate. Wian plopped on some relish, and began stacking up a ridiculous caricature of the hamburger—a double-decked delight pushing burger creativity to the outer limits. The band loved it!

A few days later, chunky Richard Woodruff wandered in through the front door. He lived down the street and often came in to sweep the floor and perform other busy work for Wian. Only six years old, he was already exhibiting a “Wimpy sized appetite for hamburgs [sic]—with a stomach to match.” HE figured out his own way to get ‘em and charmed both the lunch time customers and Wian with his plump physique and droopy overalls. It came as no surprise to the regulars why Bob Wian christened his unique sandwich the “Big Boy!

After a local cartoonist sketched a rendition of the urchin on a napkin, the tousled hair and chubby cheeks became a trademark adorning the front facade. News of the great-tasting “double-deck” cheeseburger spread and within three years, Wian opened a second eatery in Los Angeles. By 1949, he was franchising his sandwich (and its youthful mascot) to operators in a half-dozen states. Meanwhile, a trio of his own Big Boy dinettes prospered. Featuring “snappy service drive-in lanes and inside seating,” their transitional design bridged the carhop era with the coming age of coffee-shops. In 1964, Wian’s built his last open-air unit.

Bob's Double-Deck Big Boy Cheeseburger

A few years later, McDonald’s franchisee Jim Delligatti wanted to bring out a “new idea for a sandwich” when he remembered Wian’s tasty double. During the fifties, he managed a West Coast drive-in and was impressed by the numerous imitators of the twin burger. But whether whether or not he was influenced by nostalgia or his own imagination remains unclear … what’s certain is that he developed a close copy of the bi-level Big Boy. Later, he admitted that the conception of this burger clone “wasn’t like discovering the light bulb—the bulb was already there … all I did was screw it in the socket.” Of course, no credit was given to Wian for his original creation.

Delligatti’s Big “Mac” was introduced nationwide at McDonald’s outlets in 1968. The stacked sandwich was an immediate hit, soon accounting for nineteen percent of sales! But, that was no surprise for Robert C. Wian, Jr. His double-decked sandwich—created at the spur of the moment to satisfy the desire for something different—had already built a food empire. Another variation on the theme couldn’t hurt.Â He—and everyone else acquainted with hamburger history … would always know the Big Boy was Bob’s.

The Devolution of Bob’s Big Boy

Michael Witzel — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 20:34:49 +0000

In 1937, Robert Wian created his signature two-story cheeseburger at a five-stool lunch counter in Glendale, California and along with it—gave birth to a new roadside icon. At the time, six-year-old Richard Woodruff was a regular customer there, always on the make for free food. Occasionally, Wian let him sweep the floor in exchange for a burger snack. Charmed by the lad’s droopy overalls, pudgy physique, and limitless appetite for grilled patties of ground beef, he decided that his new multi-level sandwich should be called the “Big Boy.

Later, a local cartoonist sketched a rendition of the hungry urchin on a napkin and before the decade was done, the toddler with tousled hair, red and white checkerboard overalls and big belly was a trademark for hamburgers, adorning advertising signs, wrappers, and even the front facade of Bob’s Pantry.

Spurred on by the memorable images, news of Bob Wian’s delectable “double-deck cheeseburger spread and by the 1950s, he was franchising the tasty Big Boy sandwich and its endearing trademark to restaurateurs in six states (McDonald’s modeled their own Big Mac after the Big Boy burger). Within a time span of twenty years, the portly kid was greeting hungry customers nationwide!

By that time, he was a larger-than-life statue sculpted of painted fiberglass—holding a deluxe platter of burgers and Fries high in the sky for all passing by to see. More adorable than the Burger King, Wendy, or even Ronald McDonald, his burger-lovin’ smile and friendly demeanor entreated motorists to drive in and chow down. Despite an obvious weight problem, he liked food and wasn’t ashamed to display his culinary passions in public.

In spite of this quiet success, the Big Boy’s best years as an outdoor burger salesman were somewhat short-lived. After Wian passed away, stewardship of the chunky chap was assumed by what else: a corporation. As hard as it was for loyal customers to believe, the bean-counters in charge were contemplating his dismissal! After an unfavorable response from the public brought them to their senses, the ousting of the over sized mascot was put to a vote. Should the Big Boy stay or should he go? The answer came back a resounding yes: Americans liked the little butterball and wanted him to remain as company mascot and doorman.

Nevertheless, some in the radical fringe weren’t happy with the decision. The controversy came to a head in 1994 when bandits pilfered a 300 pound, six-foot high Big Boy statue from a Toledo, Ohio restaurant. Showing little respect for the edifice, they dismembered it with a hacksaw and dumped the pieces at Big Boy outlets in the surrounding area. Notes that were attached to the ragged fragments declared “Big Boy is Dead.

After a short investigation, detectives apprehended eight college boys and two underage youths and charged the entire gang with criminal mischief. As part of their punishment, the mutilators were forced to repay the $3,000 required to replace the fast food icon. Why did they steal the defenseless Big Boy and degrade it with such wild abandon? “We were bored, retorted eighteen-year-old “Bobnapper Tom Martinez.

And the saga continued: A short while later, California artist Manfred Bernhard was relieved of his duties as the talent behind the popular Adventures of Big Boy comic book (he’s been drawing the chubby character for thirty-eight years). Craig Yoe of Yoe! Studios has been contracted by the restaurant chain to pen a newer, more streamlined version of the burger boy and make him look like someone who has his fast food cravings under control. Shoveling down piles of burgers will be a definite no-no.

According to Tony Michaels, Vice President of Big Boy marketing, it’s the “kids that have been asking for a more athletic looking Big Boy! So, to placate the demand for a more spindly representative, the Big Boy will receive a long-overdue cholesterol check and a tummy-tuck. Although high morals will still be his guide, Bob’s revamped lifestyle will be completely updated for the nineties. Along with the slimmer midriff and freshly cleansed arteries, he will acquire his very own personal computer and cellular phone!

Die-hard double-deck cheeseburger fans can only guess what the Big Boy—or should I say “Trim Boy will be toting next. A Tofu sandwich slathered with a generous slice of melted goat cheese? Soyburgers topped off with a fresh heap of sprouts? Seaweed Panini sandwiches on gluten-free bread? As the business of American roadside food moves into the 21st Century, we can only shake our heads and wonder what time and changing tastes have in store for the hapless Big Boy.