Pie Haven at Big John's Shake Shack in Marion.

Fried pies, icebox pies, baked pies, meringue pies, even pies you could never conjure in your mind. Big John's Shake Shack offers a plethora of pies in all shapes, sizes and styles in Marion, Arkansas.

94 Years and Counting for Skyline Cafe in Mena.

At 94 years old, Skyline Cafe in Mena ranks amongst the oldest restaurants in Arkansas. Take a look inside this cafe in Western Arkansas and see what shines on its menu.

McCain Mall Needs An Ice Cream Saloon Like Farrell's Again.

When I broach the subject of long-gone restaurants, invariably one chain comes up -- Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour. It's become ingrained in the memories of folks my age as a magical place. And with the reintroduction of Mr. Dunderbak's at North Little Rock's McCain Mall, it would bring us another step closer to true nostalgia-ville.

But Farrell's wasn't our only sweet treat delight back in those heady days of the 1980s. I'll elaborate in a moment.

 See, even Bill Clinton liked Farrell's.

For those who didn't have the pleasure of growing up in the age of neon shoelaces and leg warmers, here's a bit of history. Going to the mall used to be a really big deal -- and there was none bigger than McCain Mall. Opened in 1973, it was the largest mall in the state (it still has more leasable space) until Central Mall in Fort Smith expanded in 1986. It had everything -- shopping, of course, but also a twin theater, restaurants, a great record store, escalators, two book stores, a Spencer Gifts, and Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour. You could spend a full day there!

And many of us did. Sure, some came with our parents but others were dropped off with a $10 and a note to meet back at the entrance at a certain time (we wore watches then; this is before CAR phones, much less cell phones). You could go catch a movie, buy stuff and eat all in one place. Actually, you can do that now -- since MM Cohn's was replaced by a new movie theater complex a few years ago. But I digress.

Down on the first floor at the north entrance, there was an awning that spread out into the hall. If you passed under that awning, you could step down into a land of pure fun, where both waiters and waitresses wore striped shirts, vests and hats and an ice cream extravaganza was waiting for you.

Farrell's Ice Cream Parlours started in Portland, OR in 1963. At its zenith it operated restaurants in 32 states across the United States. The location at McCain Mall in North Little Rock was one of the more successful stores. But after a purchase by the Marriott group in the 1970s, it became an individual franchise; it and two other stores owned by the same person (in Little Rock and Oklahoma City) closed in 1984.

The idea of a happy, fun place to consume ice cream wasn't limited to Farrell's, though. On the south side of the river, we had another chain -- Swensen's. It was sparked in 1948 by a man who learned how to make ice cream while serving in the Army during World War II.

Earle Swensen's initial restaurant was located in San Francisco but after franchising rights were sold the chain spread to more than 400 locations nationwide. For Arkansas, that location was in the Market Street Shopping Center along Rodney Parham Road. Half the size of Farrell's, the location was lined with wooden booths and celebrated a lot of the same tamed Wild West ice cream saloon idea (for those of us who remember, it was a "thing" in the late 70s and early 80s -- Wendy's did it too).

Swensen's didn't have all the bells and whistles of Farrell's, but it did have the Earthquake, which reminded me so much of this scene from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

Now, I understand there's the Farrell's Zoo, but I don't have a recollection of that. What I do remember is sharing an Earthquake with a friend... more than once. I preferred the better-equipped Chocolate Earthquake, but if it was a big bowl full of scoops of ice cream, chances are I was going to like it.  Like this girl.

The Little Rock Swensen's location closed in the late 1980s, but the one in Springfield, MO was open until at least 1993... I actually made a pilgrimage there when I was in college. The whole company contracted and shrank nationwide, but it blew up again and hit a worldwide audience with locations in China, India, Columbia, Vietnam, Thailand... in fact, there are far more locations outside the U.S. today than there are inside. The closest drive to get to one today would be to pick up and head to Midland, TX -- the only Texas location for the chain. There are also a handful in California, Nevada and Florida.

Of course, I grew up in Little Rock, and we had our own couple of homegrown sweet treat chains form right here. The first was HUGE... to the point of... well. Frank Hickingbotham started This Can't Be Yogurt here in town back in 1981 in the Market Street Shopping Center on Rodney Parham -- yes, pretty dang close to that Swensen's location. It was just a clean white counter and some soft-serve machines that doled out soft frozen yogurt.

Now, frozen yogurt today is just sort of de rigeur -- we're very used to it. But in 1981 there were no frozen yogurt chains. The idea took off like wildfire. Within a year there were seven locations, and then even more as the restaurant franchised. A tiff with a similar restaurant from Texas forced a name change --
to TCBY -- but that didn't stop the growth. By 1986 there were over 400 stores. By 1987 there were over 800 stores. The company grew so big and so fast, it was a marvelous investment.
It left its mark on Little Rock -- literally -- for a while, the tallest building in the state was the TCBY Tower (which was later the Metropolitan Tower and is now the Simmons Bank Tower).

I can remember the original This Can't Be Yogurt theme song, but I'm not going to sing it for you. I did, however, find a clip of the commercial where they announced another name change, to TCBY Treats.

At one point, there were over 3000 TCBY locations, including spots all over Central Arkansas. But it shrank back. Mrs. Field's bought it in 2000, and it's still all over the place, but not here. There's a single stand-alone location on West Markham, one of the early stores, and today it also serves hand-dipped frozen stuff, too. The white chocolate will probably always be my favorite.

And that brings me to the Purple Cow. There are some folks who look down on the new-fangled dairy diners as unrefined, but Purple Cow's creators were Ed Moore and Paul Bash -- yes, THAT Paul Bash, who started Jacques and Suzanne's. The original location on Cantrell Road filled a gap when Swensen's left, a soda fountain where you could get various types of ice creams. It was such a welcome addition to the area that it's spawned more locations.

Unlike the drive-in sort of dairy diner that serves soft-serve, Purple Cow proudly served Yarnell's ice cream, even commissioning a special purple version from the Arkansas ice cream maker (which lead to a panic when Yarnell's went under; fortunately, Yarnell's was bought, reopened and saved).

So, here's the thing. You may not be aware of this, but Farrell's is still around. After just about every location closed down, there were two -- one in San Diego and one in Eugene, Oregon. In the late 1990s, Parlour Enterprises got the rights to develop new stores from The Kirin Group (which had bought the rights to develop more stores from Marriott), and new locations came about. Today you can enjoy lots of different ice cream confections at seven locations in California and one in Hawaii. Food Network even declared the super sundaes at Farrell's one of its top five decadent desserts.



But that doesn't answer the original idea for this post. Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour was part of the draw for my generation, a reason to choose McCain Mall over other shopping sites. Having that nostalgic Music Man-style eatery with its big ice cream creations return would be one step in creating a nostalgic destination for Gen Xers... pair it up with a showing of Flashdance, the original Star Wars trilogy or Xanadu and a before-the-show visit to Mr. Dunderbak's, and you're just a fashion mistake away from a time warp.

So should Farrell's return?  Or should Purple Cow consider a McCain Mall location?  Is there a different ice cream magnate you'd rather see there?

For more reading;
Farrell's Memory Page
Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour Restaurants
Swensen's Ice Cream
TCBY
Purple Cow Restaurants

Bring Back the Minute Man.

Arkansas has its share of chain restaurants where one can go to get a burger, fries or a shake. But there’s a homegrown chain that took off here from 1948 that still holds a dear place in the taste memories of thousands of Arkansawyers. Kat Robinson shares why it’s time to bring back the Minute Man.

What would Wendy’s be like without the slogan “Old-Fashioned Hamburgers?” Would fast food restaurants be the same without product giveaways? And would those chains be so popular without special meals for kids?

These sort of developments were part of the marketing genius of an Arkansas-based hamburger chain that’s almost faded from history. Almost. Of course, with a little luck and a lot of participation, it could come back.

Of course, I am talking about the Minute Man. Wes Hall’s original concept restaurant came out of a 24 hour coffee shop he owned with two other partners at 407 Broadway in Little Rock, way back in 1948. Eight years into the operation, he bought out his partners and converted the place into a hamburger joint. Soon, he had franchised out the Minute Man name and product across the state and even further – to seven states and 57 locations.

Hall’s first restaurant was one of three in the nation to receive brand new microwave “Radar Ranges” from Raytheon to try out – and Minute Man pioneered microwave usage in fast food. If you ever had the chance to savor a Radar Deep Dish Pie (if you were smart enough to let it cool, of course, and didn't singe off your taste buds), you had a microwaved food item – a disc of doughy crust atop the bubbling magma of the filling – in cherry, peach, apple or strawberry.

He understood marketing before marketing was a big buzz word in Arkansas. He figured out what people wanted and got them to buy those things from his store. And he knew how to cross-promote. Back in 1975, he teamed up with the Coca-Cola company to do something revolutionary – offer a real glass with the Minute Man logo with a drink purchase. You’ll still see those bold red, white and blue bi-centennial glasses in homes and on the shelves of local flea markets.

1975 was also the year the Magic Meal was patented. It may be hard for some of you younger folks to believe, but used to be if you wanted to order something for your kid, it came off the same menu as the adults used. Here’s a link to the patent – which includes the idea of “PREPARING A HAMBURGER SANDWICH WITH FRENCH FRIED POTATOES SOLD IN A SPECIAL CONTAINER WHICH CONTAINS A MAGIC TRICK, SOLD AS PART OF A RESTAURANT OPERATION.” Minute Man sold Magic Meals two years before McDonald’s recognizes the birth of the Happy Meal. Eventually Minute Man sold the rights to sell Magic Meals (including the name) to Burger King – which did so in 1982 and 1983.

Minute Man also beat McDonald’s to the punch on a signature sandwich. The “Big M” was a double full-sized patty burger that came with cheese, chopped onion, lettuce, tomato and a relish sauce which debuted in 1966. The Big Mac, McDonald’s signature burger, debuted in 1967 at a single location in Pennsylvania.

Wes Hall was an innovator, for sure – and Minute Man became part of the fabric of Arkansas food culture. If you were to ask someone from around here which restaurant would survive to today, Minute Man or McDonald’s, back in 1977 – chances are they’d guess Minute Man. Of course, in 1977, they’d also have likely guessed that Breaker Drive-Ins would be around, rather than Sonic – but that’s a story for a different time.

When I wrote this blog back in March of 2013, I had no idea how many people were about to come out of the woodwork to reminisce with me. THV 11 did a piece in the time I was doing my research… and Monica Madey Mylonas followed in May with a feature in the third edition of Arkansauce. The UALR Center for Arkansas History and Culture debuted a new Character Collection piece on Wes Hall and Minute Man. And talk got around.

Someone even gave me a copy of the old relish sauce recipe from the Minute Man… but I’m not quite ready to share it. I’m still looking to make sure I’m not stepping on any toes!

But there seems to be a real desire to revisit those flavors. As I've mentioned in some of my recent talks here and there, some of our restaurant flavors can easily be saved and shared at other restaurants. In particular, what Local Lime in Little Rock is doing with its Taco Kid Tuesdays, offering dishes from the original Taco Kid the first Tuesday of each month, is a possibility. I’d love to see a restaurant offer up a Big M, a #2 (that’s the hickory burger with smoke sauce) or a Radar Deep Dish Pie as a call-back to a great era.

More than that, there have been rumors for years that the Minute Man chain could be franchised out. Wouldn’t that be neat? Here’s a great chance for a nostalgia trip. I could see one going up all decked out in 1960s-style décor – the hipsters would love it.

But for those of us who have missed relish sauce and such, there is a single location of the Minute Man left. It’s in El Dorado on Main Street, a few blocks from the downtown square. It’s a little odd – it serves Mexican food, too, or a facsimile thereof – but it does have that relish sauce and it is in one of the original Minute Man buildings. Patronize it if you are in the area, and think back to the days of Wes Hall and his innovative ideas.

You’ll find the El Dorado Minute Man at 318 West Main Street – the phone number is (870) 862-7995.

Did The Frito Chili Pie Come From Arkansas?

Long disputed between Texas and New Mexico, the owner of Spradlin's Dairy Delight in England says his dad came up with the eponymous dish.

Back in 1957, Claude Spradlin started up a new business in England.  Spradlin's wife had worked at a dairy bar in her hometown, and he figured that England needed one of its own.  He was right.  Spradlin's Dairy Delight caught on quickly, becoming the place to pick up a burger, a long hot dog or a Frito Chili Pie.


Spradlin's son, Claude Spradlin, Jr. took over in 1973 and still runs the business today.  He has been part of the operation since the restaurant opened (he was seven at the time), and he took over the grill for the first time when he was 16.  The junior Spradlin is now 64 and believes he may have grilled up more hamburgers in 50 years than anyone else in America.  He could be right.

But Spradlin says his dad actually came up with the Frito Chili Pie back when the restaurant started -- and that the folks at the Frito Lay Corporation actually sent him a letter thanking him for his contribution and the creation of the dish.  It was sold in a paper boat for 15 cents -- a nickel for the Fritos and a dime for the chili -- and it was very popular.  Today, there are probably far more long dogs sold than Frito Chili Pies, but they're still on the menu -- and they sell for $3 each.

Several sources claim that the dish was first served in the 1960s by Theresa Hernandez at the Woolworth Five and Dime Store's lunch counter in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Others claim the mother of Frito founder Charles Elmer Doolin came up with the original -- and that Daisy Dean Doolin fashioned many Fritos dishes all the way back in the 1930s.  In fact, from 1935 to 1937, Fritos were featured in a campaign where housewives were offered a dollar for every recipe they could come up with that contained Fritos.  In fact, a brochure came out in 1937 with many of these recipes.  Then, according to the book "Frito Pie: Stories, Recipes and More" by Fritos creator's daughter Kaleta Dulin, a listing for Fritos Chili Pie appeared in the 1949 menu for the Dallas Dietetic Association Convention, alongside Frito-Kettes (salmon croquettes with Fritos), Fritos Happy Landings and Fritos Eggplant Casserole.

The recipe itself was printed on Fritos bags back in 1962 and was credited to Nell Morris.  However, this recipe called for layers of crushed Fritos alternating with chili, cheese and onions -- not the simpler Fritos covered with chili offered at Spradlin's.  The advertising campaign built around the concoction was aimed at selling both Fritos and the new Frito brand chili that had hit the market (and which has since disappeared).

Claude Spradlin, Jr. plans to continue with the restaurant -- five days a week he gets to serve up food to friends and buddies who drop in for a bite to eat and to chat.  Whether or not Spradlin's really is the original place where the Frito Chili Pie began, it's still a great little place to eat.  Check it out when you're in England. (501) 842-2341.

The Venesian Inn: Fried Chicken & Spaghetti Since '47.

Tontitown's oldest remaining restaurant has changed little since Germano Gasperotto started serving fried chicken, steaks and spaghetti at the Italian diner that once stood in the middle of a motorcourt hotel.

Dondie's White River Princess: Hang On To What You Got.

The whitewashed riverboat alongside the White River in Des Arc has never set to the river beside it; it's not seaworthy and was never meant to float. Yet the idea of this place has floated a dream -- and a lesson -- if you have something good, keep ahold of it.

Dondie's White River Princess opened in the late 1980s, a catfish buffet concept restaurant created by Dondie Guess, a local entrepreneur with a big idea. Idea seemed sound enough -- sell catfish from a fancy boat right next to a river known for its catfish. However, Dondie had some big dreams, and they involved a place that got a heck of a lot more traffic than little Des Arc could manage.

Dondie wanted to try his luck in Branson. So he offered his establishment for sale to Mike Skarda. Now, Mike wasn't a restauranteur but he loved to grill, so he decided to give this a go.

That was back in 1990, maybe 1991. Mike took over and ran that buffet for a while, but he saw a need to expand the menu options and added one item after another -- steaks, specialty seafood dishes, appetizers and pasta. He still kept the buffet going, though, selling catfish and frog legs, shrimp and mudbugs to a standard crowd every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night (and the first Sunday lunchtime of the month).

But what happened to Dondie? Bless his heart, he headed to Branson, built a new boat right on the Highway 76 Strip, and it quickly sank -- not the boat, mind you, but the restaurant housed within. Discouraged, he reportedly sold the landboat to another owner and headed back to Des Arc, where he hoped to buy the White River Princess back.

Nothing doing. Mike told Dondie "I'll sell you my farm, but I won't sell you the boat."

I wouldn't worry too much about Dondie -- he now owns Car City and does pretty well for himself. And I wouldn't worry about Dondie's White River Princess, either. See, the business really can float -- even if it does so a couple dozen meters off the White River.

We made our most recent visit on a Thursday night, heading out from Little Rock for a destination an hour away. The heady scent of seasoning and smoke brought us through the doors and we quickly found ourselves seated in a dining room with a view of the beautiful White River arch bridge. There were noises overhead as well as around us -- the landboat has more than one service floor, all decked out in wooden tables on wooden floors with the sweetest waitresses you can imagine.

Hunter this trip had spied the buffet on arrival and begged a shot at it -- and there she found not only fried catfish fillets and steaks but hush puppies, corn nuggets, apple sticks, smoked ribs, chicken strips, fried shrimp, peel-and-eat shrimp and spicy boiled crawfish. For a five year old Arkansaw girl, this was heaven, and she got herself extra helpings of these and beans, coleslaw, tomato chunks and pickle spears.

Now, Grav had been attracted by a menu of epic ratios -- and the one that best grabbed his attention was the chalkboard special of a 22 ounce Cowboy Steak for the bargain price of $15.95. After the salad of iceberg lettuce and tomato and blue cheese dressing and the cottony-soft brown bread served up with uber sweet honey butter, the monstrosity was delivered to the table -- a ribeye and rib combination that fell over the edge of the plate and dared Grav to consume its considerable span. It came with a baked potato the size of a shoe and a cursory bowl of vegetables, which provided a splash of color to complement the red of the steak's rareness.

Me? I had gone conservative and chosen the $12 Lobster Stuffed Shrimp dish, which had been recommended to me. Eight fat butterflied shrimp were delivered with a hearty dollop of a homemade lobster dressing atop each -- in turn set upon a ramekin of buttered angel-hair pasta.
They were served with a different potato offering -- this time, slices of potato that had been dipped in the steak seasoning and grilled alongside the meat -- and, strangely enough, a solitary biscuit that Hunter and I about got into a fight over.

Alerted to the big camera Grav carried and then shot with same in his kitchen, Mike Skarda came out to speak with us as we dined. He shared bits of the tale of how Dondie's came to be in his possession (a couple of frequent customers provided the extra color for the story later) and about his clientele. A full 80 percent of diners come from somewhere else -- including a bunch out of Mountain Home (three hours or more away!) who make a regular trip down for Thursday night's dinner, overnight in Little Rock and shop there and then return home. Dondie's wouldn't survive without the folks that come from afar, and Mike is thankful.

He's busy the other days of the week too -- in fact, he's the Prairie County judge! His daughter... well, bless her heart, she didn't go into the restaurant business after him. Instead, she headed to New Orleans and has become a sommalier (that's a fancy wine taster for you folks who didn't know). Son-in-law's a Scotch taster. Those are some fabulous family connections.

We had to stick around for dessert -- and while Grav had a New York Cheesecake covered in chocolate sauce, Hunter and I dived into the Hot Fudge Cake that Mike's wife had made.  It was splendid -- light chocolate cake layers with ice cream in-between, covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce and a cherry on top. You can also have yours with peanuts.

Dondie's isn't just right down the street from anything... but it is worth the drive out to Des Arc to get some good vittles at a reasonable cost. I've heard the 18 ounce Porterhouse is an experience, and I'm excited to try it next go-round. My suggestion is to go on a Thursday, because on Friday and Saturday nights a wait is almost a given. You can call the restaurant if you have any questions at (870) 256-3311 or go find it at the south end of the city's riverfront park -- and be sure to check for specials on the Facebook page.