FORGOTTEN HOWARD JOHNSON MEALS
In 1959, a young French cook named Jacques Pepin stood over a kettle of clam chowder big enough to bathe in. His job was to make 3,000 gallons taste the same in Maine as in Florida. That was the secret of Howard Johnson's not the orange roof. Today, people remember the roof and forget the food.
Pepin famously turned down an opportunity to cook at the White House for President John F. Kennedy to work for Howard Johnson's in the 1960s. During his decade-long tenure he perfected their commissary production, helping scale and standardize their famous chicken pot pies and other menu staples for the masses. Before immigrating to the United States, Pepin established a name for himself in France as the personal chef to French President Charles de Gaulle.
The signature dessert for kids was a scoop of their famous ice cream accompanied by a cookie. A child's perforated menu was offered so that after ordering you could punch out the lines and wear it as a ballcap.
Before drive-throughs, before frozen breakfast sandwiches, before frozen breakfast sandwiches Howard Johnson's served little griddle cakes that came off the supply truck by the case .. corn toasties, orange toasties, blueberry toasties. They arrived frozen, golden discs of cornmeal batter studded with sweet kernels and the line cook dropped them on the flat top until the edges crisped, the center turned tender and steaming. A paddy of butter melted into the surface and a drizzle of syrup ran down the sides. When the frozen food line was discontinued, the toasties went with it which has resulted in not being able to buy them anywhere today. A whole category of American roadside breakfast simply disappeared and almost nobody remembers it existed.
Howard Johnson's had the Shirley Temple and the Roy Rogers kid's drinks. This was the genius of Howard Johnson's. He understood that the ritual of serving these drinks to kids with special names was the product. The drink was just the excuse. Almost no chain puts these on their menu, by name, anymore. Another Howard Johnson's specialty was the Hawaiian baked ham. In the post-war years, anything with pineapple on it felt impossibly exotic! A few of the very last orange roof holdouts kept Hawaiian baked ham on the menu right up until the end.
Howard Johnson's was not just clams and ice cream. It fed working men, too. And the open steak sandwich was built for them. A think tenderloin steak, charcoal broiled until the edges charred, was laid flat across a single slice of toast and covered in a ladle of dark pan gravy.
People forgot that Howard Johnson's began as a soda fountain and candy counter. Howard Johnson's offered the "frappe". Order a milkshake at Howard Johnson's and you got a New England "frappe". And there was a difference even if the rest of the country never learned it. A "frappe" was ice cream, milk and flavored syrup whipped together at the fountain until it was so thick the straw stood straight up on its own. A "frappe" cost a quarter and it was practically .. a meal. It was served with the rest of the steel cup removed from the spinner and placed beside your glass so you got every drop!
There was macaroni and cheese with elbow macaroni folded into a real cheddar sauce, poured into a dish, topped with crumbs and baked until the top browned and the edges bubbled.
Howard Johnson's was most famously known for its fried clam strips and its signature 28 flavors of ice cream.
The iconic roadside chain also gained legendary status for its New England-style hot dogs served in square, butter-toasted split-top buns and traditional homestyle favorites like baked beans and chicken pot pies.
For sit-down diners, travelers always knew they could get homestyle mainstays like meatloaf and roast turkey.
Here is what nobody tells you about Howard Johnson's. The food was almost beside the point. What Howard Johnson actually invented was the idea that a restaurant in main and a restaurant in Florida could be the exact same restaurant. When you saw that orange roof from a mile away, you were not just seeing a building, you were seeing a promise.
Every chain you have ever trusted on the highway exit owes its DNA to a man who decided that consistency itself was worth selling. This man was the one and only
Howard Johnson.
























