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BIG APPETITES AT BIG TEXAS RESTAURANT
Steaks, Song and Sunsets in Amarillo
by Evelyn Kanter
These are no ordinary steaks. Even in Texas, where big is just ordinary, the 72- ounce sirloin
at the Big Texan in Amarillo is, simply, humongous. Yes, we are talking about nearly five pounds of prime local
Angus, about three inches thick and roughly the size of a baseball glove, so
big it hangs over the side of the plate, forcing the shrimp cocktail, salad and
baked potato that accompanies it onto other plates. What does a 72-ounce steak dinner cost? If you can clean your plate in one hour, the
meal is free; otherwise, it’s $50. Since the gimmick promotion began in 1960, 4,000 people have tried, but
only one in six has finished, including a petite grandmother, an
eleven-year-old who even asked for dessert, the wrestler known as Klondike
Bill, who actually devoured two and was denied a third. Fastest time ever was 9 ½ minutes, by a
Cincinnati Reds baseball player, Frank Pastore. The night I was there, having an ordinary 12 ouncer, medium
rare, three men were seated on a raised platform in the middle of the dining
room, chewing away, surrounded by an audience of fans. Some were cheering, while other
onlookers -- like me – stood there with
mouths open in disbelief. “They are
the best sales people we can have,” said Lee, whose father opened the original
restaurant on famous Route 66, which cuts through downtown Amarillo. The newer, bigger Big Texan is alongside the
more modern interstate that all but turned downtown Amarillo into a ghost town.
More about that, later. The Big Texan is hokey and kitschy, decorated in the style
of 1800s cattle barons, with hefty oak tables and chairs, and walls decorated
with the horned heads of various local wildlife, including a ferocious looking
bear at the front entrance, paintings of cowboys, etc. The parking valet doesn’t drive your car
away -- he’s riding a horse, and you follow them both to a spot. The big Texan is big with families, and
there’s an entire room full of video games to keep the kids happy in between
burgers or barbequed chicken and dessert.
They head west from Chicago, that toddlin’ town, to St.
Louis with its blues. The rendition of
Eyes of Texas included a rousing clog dance by a mother-daughter team that had the
audience tapping its toes almost as fast as the dancers were. Then, on to that guy from the Eagles who was
standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona, to Los Angeles. The performers all donned flowered shirts to
sing about surfing. I ducked out of the show periodically to see how my big
steak trio was doing. The stern-looking
middle-aged man with the paunch would
not give his name after he gave up, and didn’t smile, either. The twentysomething brawny fullback-sized
guy from Australia didn’t finish either, despite a cheering section of
friends. It was the smallest of the
three with the biggest stomach. Anthony Dorris, a 34-year-old from Irving, a Dallas suburb,
was smiling and rubbing his bursting-at-the-belt-buckle tummy when he stood up,
still chewing the last bite. “I feel
full,” he said, as his wife snapped pictures. Lee’s Big Texan serves more than 80 thousand pounds of
sirloin a year, “and that’s no bull,” he says with a mischievous grin. He built the platform both as a
crowd-pleaser and, “to keep people honest, so they can’t stuff chunks of steak
in their pockets or down their boots.” Winners get to sign the board at the front entrance, next to where an
uncooked 72-ouncer is displayed on ice.
Amarillo claims to be the “real” Texas. Memorable steaks and, even more memorable
characters in boots and moccasins, and blazing sunsets across the endless
horizon. Yea, that’s real. Amarillo Convention & Visitor Council Big Texan Cowboy Palace “Texas” Musical Drama |
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TM
Bobby Lee says he can tell about 20 minutes into the meal
whether a diner will finish every last bite of his legendary steak
dinners. “As soon as they lean back and
start breathing and chewing more slowly,” they’re on the road to done, he says.
Other than almost weekly rodeos starring real cowboys from
local ranches, and a summer-long outdoor musical drama tracing the history of
Texas that’s been running in a natural amphitheater in Palo Duro Canyon State
Park for 34 seasons, there’s not much else to do in Amarillo after the sun goes
down, the dinner shows at the Big Texan are the best entertainment in
town. Especially if you have dinner in
the tented area, where a talented troupe of local performers takes diners on a
musical tour through the cities and states served by the famous Route 66. 
It’s all part of the show, which also includes Hodie
Porterfield, a lanky mountain man wearing buckskin clothing and buffalo
moccasins he made himself. Hodie works
evenings as a host, and tells captivating stories of his years living among the
Cheyenne and other Native tribes, including about the tomahawk throwing contest
in which he aimed badly and lost a finger on his left hand. In a monumental understatement, he says he’s
learned to be more careful since.
Downtown, the historic area dissected by Route 66 is lined
now with antique shops specializing in stuff from the 1850s, when Texas was a
new republic independent of Mexico, and memorabilia from the 1950s, when the
road was, itself, a destination. The
biggest is housed in what was originally one of the first indoor swimming pools
in the country, before being converted into a dance hall and theater which
attracted top performers including Benny Goodman in the 40s and Bill Haley
& The Comets in the 50s.