Since 1924, Oklahoma City’s incomparable, original Coney Island, 240 SW 25th St. in Capitol Hill, has given the city a filling lunch at a good price.
Think about it: sometime during the Roaring Twenties, you could go to Coney Island, feed a family of five for half-a-wheat-penny, and still have enough change for the moving pictureshow across the street at the Yale Theatre. 23 Skidoo!
As a matter of fact, back in the ‘50s, my late father said he always liked Coney Island and their wieners during his lunchbreak, back when he was a fresh-faced insurance salesman, running claims up and down the city.
I too have continued this legacy of Coney Island, carried on with not only the tradition of hot dogs and chili dogs, but entire bowls of hot chili, Frito chili pies and their real claim to fame, spaghetti served Greek-style, all still for only a couple of dollars.
Though I reviewed it around 10 years ago—glowingly, I might add—recently, my wife asked about Coney Island when we were across the street getting some pan dulce from Mi Terroncito.
She told me that she always wondered about the place and if I had ever tried it. Sure, I said, as I told her how it’s one of OKC’s edible pride and joys and, quite maybe, we should go have lunch there next week.
Sadly, the falling snow and low temps kept us homebound for a few days but, eventually, the sun came out. Though it was slippery in some areas, we decided to risk it and, even though it was slow going, we made it to Coney Island in one piece.
Before visiting the vaunted establishment, I had to warn my wife that, on the whole, they don’t have all the bells and whistles most restaurants have. It’s got four walls, a handful of tables, and an old-school menu featuring prices that have barely moved over the years. Here, I declared, it’s all about the taste.
That was good enough for her.
As I walked to the counter, I ordered two Chili Dogs with cheese, a bowl of Oklahoma-born Chili Frito Pie with cheese, a plate of Greek spaghetti with chili and cheese and, plucked from a tub right next to the register, a triangle of freshly made Baklava, one of this state’s best treats.
Paid at the counter—cash only, as the menu tells you—we got our trays and made our way to our table.
As my mouth was watering, I could tell that my wife was still unsure about this place. So, as soon as we sat down, I presented her with her own Chili Dog ($2.50 each), a high-quality red-stained Schwab’s frank with copious amounts of chili, cheese, mustard, and diced onions.
Immediately, her frown turned upside down.
I don’t care what your experiences with hot dogs have been, because every bite was a new tube-meat adventure. The franks have that quality Schwab’s taste, the local meat complemented with their own secret (sacred?) chili recipe, with the cheese and onions as a tasty textured backdrop.
Having my own moment with my dog, I was glad to introduce her to it. But to be sure, there was so much more to go, because next up, I wanted her to try their Frito Chili Pie ($4.25).
Name-brand Fritos chips are topped with a couple of ladles of their hot chili with, of course, the necessary cheese and onions. I don’t know about you, but you really can’t be an Oklahoman without a taste for Frito Chili Pie, right?
Usually, they are eaten in the summer at a snack stand, but in the winter, there’s a real reckless delirium to their corn chip madness, I noticed. Fritos and cheese are one thing, but Coney Island’s specialty chili and diced onions make it a meal that will heat you up and keep you that way. Adding her own heavy-handed helping of Louisiana hot sauce, this bowl warmed my wife's very soul.
But what really made this meal is the Greek-style Spaghetti ($7.00) topped with chili. Apparently, this variation on the Italian noodle was brought over from Greece, with steaming spaghetti slathered in Coney Island’s chili, and yet again, the requisite cheese and onions.
Stuffing my mouth full of the spaghetti and chili, I told my wife that Coney Island continues to be the benchmark of Oklahoma’s spaghetti game. Though the naked pasta is somewhat bland by itself, the combination of chili, cheese and, of course, the dish’s secret weapon, the onions, make it a wonderful way to end lunch.
As we ended our meal by sharing the flaky homemade Greek pastry, a healthy slice of Baklava ($2.50), my wife was more than impressed with her inaugural trip, remarking that the price of a Coney Island chili dog is less expensive than mainstream Oklahoma mainstay, Sonic.
“Tastier too!” I said.
But, more than that, I am glad that she—and all the customers that frequent Coney Island on a regular basis—will be able to keep it running for, Lord willing, another 100 years, offering their chili dogs to my descendants and then some.
¡Cómpralo ya!
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
