Thursday, January 31, 2008

Ron makes a good burger

One night last week S and I had to make a Tulsa run to attend an event for which my wife is seriously considering participating in this coming June...the Oklahoma Freewheel Cross State Bicycle Tour.

After securing our kids snugly with my In-Laws, Wife and I bombed up the turnpike and made it to T-town with about 40 minutes to spare.

Famished and needing some sustenance to carry us through the evening, we hunted around downtown Tulsa in the very industrial area surrounding the venue for the seminar -- OSU's College of Osteopathic Medicine (who knew OSU had a med school?).

Other than a neon glaring Coney Island greasy spoon of questionable safety and sanitary standards (the downtown bus depot location might have been a giveaway), our only other option in sight was a Golden Arches and several pubs.

Flipping over to a side street in desperation, with the clock ticking and our gullets in shut down mode, I was desperately hoping we wouldn't have to result to a QuikTrip Fast-Feast-o-Death, when along to our wondrous eyes did appear but a hovel of fine hamburger hideaways...Ron's

A Tulsa institution since the heady days of disco fever, we had both heard of Ron's famous chili and burgers for awhile, but never had the time or wherewithal to partake of this burger joint wonder.

As our time frame neared it's temporal horizon, we opted to share an arterial sclerosis inducing concoction known as the Sausage Cheeseburger (Oklahoma's best burger!.....$5.25)."1/3 lb. Cheeseburger made with 1/2 beef and 1/2 Owens sausage. Topped with hot pepper and American cheese. Dressed with mustard, pickles, fried onions, lettuce, and tomato." Sadly, after shaking our heads to clear the haze and glaze that had covered our eyes after consuming the big burger, we had no time for dessert or even a palate and vein cleansing cup of joe.

We paid our bill, left a few bucks for our friendlier than friendly waitress and grabbed a ToGo menu on our way out the door.

Now, considering the remainder of the evening was spent listening to a health professional tell my Wife and the gathered FreeWheel faithful how to get in shape and prepare for the cross state bicycle ride a mere 5-months away, every burger-infused belch I shared with the cosmos during that time not only stopped my heart, but provided an ironic sweetness that almost...almost, made up for our dessert-less meal.

As I was writing up this blog entry, a quick trip around the Googlesphere revealed that the Coney Island joint may not have warranted such ire from our hunger panged decision making process as revealed in this article.

Ah well, livin' and learnin' in T-town.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

If the Coney Island is the one I'm thinking of, over on Fourth and Something-or-Other, Ron eats there all the time. My friend Brad works down the street from that place and took great delight in introducing a visitor from Boston to Tulsa-style Coneys. He said the Bostonian looked horrified upon learning that the red powder Brad was sprinkling on his chili dog was, in fact, cayenne pepper and not just paprika or something.