Burger Friday: Summertime nostalgia reigns at Minnetonka Drive In

The burger: Let's time-travel back to 1961, shall we? John Fitzgerald Kennedy was sworn into office as the nation's 35th president. Alan Shepard became the first American in space. Television audiences were glued to "Wagon Train," "Gunsmoke" and "Bonanza." Pillsbury introduced its Poppin' Fresh Dough Boy spokesman. And Gordon Bennyhoff opened his A&W drive-in franchise in Spring Park, not far from the waters of Lake Minnetonka.

It's still there, 54 years later, and a delightfully preserved-in-amber experience. Sure, the name has changed: it's now the Minnetonka Drive In. But it's still owned by the hard-working Bennyhoff family. And it continues to specialize in a gotta-try burger.

A&W devotees will remember the chain's vaunted Family of Burgers: Papa Burger, Mama Burger, Teen Burger and Baby Burger. When I was a kid, my family spent a fair amount of time under the carports at the A&W near Osseo Road and 69th Street in Brooklyn Center -- this was the late 1960s and early 1970s -- so you'd think I'd recall the details that made a Teen Burger a Teen Burger. But I don't. Mostly, I remember how much I loved the heavy, and heavily frosted glass mugs that were used to serve the drive-in's sweet, frothy root beer. Oh, and how we all tried, somewhat desperately, to keep from spilling ketchup and mustard on the upholstery of my father's prized Vauxhall station wagon.

The specifics of A&W corporate-speak are a little foggy for co-owner Dave Bennyhoff, too, but he does recall that the Minnetonka Twin Burger – its name is drawn from a pair of patties -- is a direct descendent of the A&W Papa Burger.

In keeping with the midcentury matriarchy of it all, the Papa Burger – sorry, the Minnetonka Twin – remains the menu's signature item, and with good reason. It's the kind of first-rate burger that reinforces exactly why the grilled beef sandwich became an American culinary icon.

This classic approach to burger-making arrives, via a friendly carhop, just as it should -- piping hot -- and wrapped in a brown paper bag. It starts out with a bang, in the form of a toasted and notably well-made bun, from Denny's 5th Avenue Bakery. It's a promising salutation. After all, how many fast-food burgers make a point of seeking out such a carefully produced bun? Not many, at least in my experience.

"You have to have a good bun, otherwise it takes away from the sandwich," said Bennyhoff. Agreed.

The embellishments are classic Americana: Crisp shredded lettuce, pungent dill pickle chips, a tomato slice (that, it must be said, is there strictly for color, as it offers next to nothing in terms of flavor and texture), and ooze-ey (and decidedly salty, in a totally appealing way) American cheese.

The crowning touch is prodigious amounts of what the menu dubs "dressing," a fat-boosting blend of salad dressing, mustard, pickle relish and lemon juice. "We still run a scratch kitchen here," said Bennyhoff. "That's Dad's recipe, and it's really good."

It sure is, and all the components sloppily add up to a remarkable burger experience. No wonder it has been a top seller for all of these years.

Price: $5.99. "It's basically our specialty burger," said Bennyhoff. "If someone comes in and says, 'Dave, what's the best burger you've got?' I'm going to tell them it's the Twin, and not because it's the most expensive one."

Expensive is not a word I would associate with the Minnetonka Drive In, but it's all relative, right? In measures of both quality and quantity, I thought six bucks was something of a steal. By the way, an extra cheese slice is 59 cents, and it's totally worth the splurge. It's placed between the two hot-off-the-grill patties, and like all good American cheeses, it melts in a flash, turning each bite into a gooey, Jucy Lucy-like delight.

Family affair: Dave Bennyhoff and his seven siblings all grew up working at their dad's drive-in. Bennyhoff's first job was after-school washing duty, cleaning the returnable gallon-size glass jugs that customers would buy and fill with A&W root beer. At the time, it was the only way consumers could purchase the company's fabled draft root beer. By the mid-1970s, the company had licensed the formula to soda bottlers. With the root beer conveniently available in supermarkets, sales at A&W drive-ins began to shrink.

Dave took over the family business in 1985 (Gordon passed away four years later), and that's when he dropped the A&W affiliation. "I remember sitting and talking to the president of A&W and he said that we would be gone in two years," said Bennyhoff. "Well, it's 2015, and we're still here." I think I can speak for drive-in lovers everywhere when I say, "thank goodness."

By the way, Bennyhoff is still making root beer – foamy, with a pronounced vanilla-caramel aura -- following the same recipe his father used in the 1960s.

Next generation: Dave and his wife Deb have three kids, and all of them have worked at the 50-car drive-in; one still pitches in during the early-spring and late-fall stretches. Three of the couple's six grandchildren are also on the payroll.

The property is as tidy as a military base waiting for a general's inspection, and it's remarkably well-preserved (the family resisted the temptation to add indoor seating, preferring to maintain the restaurant's seasonal business model), making for a fairly authentic journey back to the world of 1960s drive-ins. "We've kept up with the demands of the health department, but otherwise everything is the same as it has always been," said Bennyhoff. Right down to the recent paint job, which replicates the way it looked when it opened in 1961. Don't let the summer pass without a visit.