I never had anything on my Wimpy hamburger, other than the onions. The fried onions were a must. McDonald’s never had fried onions.
Seventy years ago, the first Wimpy Bar opened inside the Lyons’ Corner House at Oxford Circus. That was long before McDonald’s first appearance in Woolwich, 20 years later, in October 1974 – 50 years ago.
Brian Salmon, one of the younger members of the Salmon and Gluckstein family who ran Lyons, was managing Lyons’ Corner Houses.
He and his brother, Neil, on a trip to Chicago came across one of 17 Wimpy restaurants serving hamburgers, quickly, across the United States. They contacted the owner of Wimpy, Edward Vale Gold, who turned out to be interested in an investment.
It took some months to convince the elders of Lyons’ board that it was worth at least an experiment with this new way of eating. They had been reluctant to get involved in the lowly world of this new ‘fast food’, but the younger members saw huge potential. Meat-rationing ended in July that year. Lyons had their own bakers and ice-cream makers (ice-cream milkshakes and ‘fries’ were also offered at Gold’s restaurants). In America, Wimpy’s rivals were beginning to generate serious custom.
The first trial grill was put into the Ideal Home Exhibition at Olympia. An astonishing 10,000 hamburgers were sold in the first week. Next came Wimbledon, and then the Chelsea Flower Show. Not common-or-garden events.
So successful were these trials that, at the end of the 1954 season, the first permanent Wimpy was installed at Oxford Circus. The following year, a Wimpy outlet was opened in the Coventry Street Corner House. It was soon selling 35,000 hamburgers a week. Even in the USA, such numbers were unmatched.
The Americanness of hamburgers was a part of their appeal. At the end of How To Marry a Millionaire 91954), the humble hamburger represents a more authentic way of life for Marilyn Monroe, Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable as they tuck into burgers. You can’t get much more glamorous than those three.
In Britain, a decade later, Peter Cook as the Devil tempts lovelorn Wimpy cook Dudley Moore in Bedazzled (1966).
The name Wimpy was itself derived from the movies. The cartoon series Popeye the Sailor featured a gluttonous character named J Wellington Wimpy, whose catchphrase was ‘I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.’
American visitors were snooty about British hamburgers. In 1970, the New York Times declared that ‘Americans, desperate for a hamburger, have wound up at Wimpy’s.’
Lyons did introduce its own invention, the Doozle Dog, a frankfurter curled to fit inside a Wimpy bun.
Will Self later described it as ‘a frankfurter bent and crenulated so that it resembles a porky laurel wreath’. Initially, the desire was to call it a ‘doozy’, an American slang word meaning ‘outstanding’.
But this was thought too common – so the l was inserted. The Doozle Dog soon became a Bender. A great loss to our native culinary vocabulary.
I know about Doozle Dogs because my uncle, Ken Clarke (no relation), who has just turned 97, was one of four company managers at Wimpy (he doubled as meat-buyer).
He remembers the first Wimpy franchise being sold to two Greek brothers in Weston-super-Mare. He remembers the horror and panic of two American gentlemen demanding – and being given – raw meat in their buns.
He recalls, too, that a Lyons baker, who developed that slightly sweet bun, was sent throughout the land to teach local bakers his mystical craft. He even remembers how it was decided not to buy into KFC. Lyons saw no future in fried chicken. Too awkward for fast food.
There was something indefinably British about Wimpy bars. They were not bars - they were restaurants. Was a Wimpy a snack or a meal? While you could take your hamburgers away, it was more usual to eat them at a table, with a knife and fork, and ketchup dispensed from a large, plastic tomato.
For the young, with two or three bob to spend, they were a first experience of eating out, with a comfortable casualness.
Although no longer a part of Lyons, and a much-diminished feature of our high streets, more than 60 Wimpy Bars are still dotted about the country. They are mostly at seaside resorts, such as Clacton, Felixstowe and Southsea. The last one in central London is in Shadwell.
Enjoy!
The Oldie September 2024
