Lansing — Beef is back in a big way in Michigan this year. But did it ever really leave?
If you were born before the new millennium, you know what Hot ‘n Now is. Chances are you remember the cheap and reliable burger pit stop, served up from their classic buildings of red, white, and blue. Now in 2025, there is only one Hot n’ Now left standing, in Sturgis.
But a new dawn is coming to the Midwest. Under new ownership, Hot ‘n Now is so back, and reopening back in its land of origin, West Michigan.
The burger joint franchise was founded by fast food pioneer and Grand Rapids native, William Van Domelen.
This savvy Michigander worked his way up the ladder from busboy to eventually franchising Michigan’s first Wendy’s. After returning from service in the Navy, he saved money selling pots and pans door to door to fund his first burger joint, and even continued this job throughout his first venture opening Burger Chef.
Then came a second location, followed by a Dunkin’ Donuts. Then the Wendy’s. Van Domelen was quickly proving his visionary capabilities and strong work ethic to Southwest Michigan.
Of course he didn’t stop there. He felt things could still be improved upon and set out to create an efficient, affordable, and easy to manage operation to provide reliable burgers to the masses.
That was 1984, and the place: Hot n’ Now. Van Domelen’s vision was clear and simple: low overhead, low prices, and quick service from a simple menu. These cornerstones turned out to be integral to Hot n’ Now’s success. Once it was came under new ownership, the wheels began to fall off.
After Van Domelen retired and corporate ownership took over, the chain with 150 locations over 15 states began to dwindle.
There are a few Michigan family-owned institutions that have fared better. Kewpee Burger is one of them.
Opening in 1923 in Flint, their original square burgers were so good that they inspired Kalamazoo resident Dave Thomas to create Wendy’s. They were also Michigan’s first olive burger (and my family’s favorite).
They too have dwindled in size, but their downtown Lansing location has remained a burger bastion for decades.
My late grandmother grew up in Lansing, and her favorite was always Kewpee. It was my grandfather’s top spot as well. He spent his entire career in the Lansing police force as a regular. Every time I visit, I run into an old friend of his in a corner booth.
The olive burger at Kewpee comes two ways, the modern version and the way Grandma Kewpee, Gladys Bowlin, used to make over a hundred years ago. The old way is more of a crumbled smashburger style (cheese, great-granddaughter Autumn rightfully asserts, is the blanket that keeps it all together).
My second surprise was to find Weston, Bowlin’s grandson, working behind the grill. Despite being in his 70s, Weston happily came out to spend some time on one of their warm wooden benches and speak with me.
Weston walked through how Kewpee first opened in Flint in 1923, passed down from his grandmother Gladys to his father. They were forced out of their original location in an urban renewal project.
They’ve been in Lansing now since the 1970s, currently under the helm of his daughter Autumn, who was also bustling away in the kitchen just a few feet away as we spoke. It’s becoming rare to see younger generations excited to take on the work of their forefathers, but here that passion was palpable.
Regulars are greeted with questions about loved ones and what had happened since they’d been there a week ago. Newcomers are greeted with the same warmth, creating new regulars in mere moments. From employees to customers, there was not an ounce of disgruntled or rude behavior in sight.
Everyone was present and happy to be there—an environment that would feel surreal to the unaccustomed, like a person from the city stepping onto a farm for the first time.
Police officers, suits, blue collar workers, even the mayor come to the downtown Lansing location about once a week. Weston thoroughly enjoys the establishment’s large beef-loving community, warmly telling me: “We don’t always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean we can still come together and enjoy things.”
I asked him if he expected competition with the return of Hot n’ Now. He chuckled.
“Anyone who serves food is our competition,” he said.
But things are on the rise for this old institution as well, with Gladys’s original award-winning olive burger sauce coming out this year for sale across the U.S. The pandemic may have cut their staff from 22 to three, but even that number is on the rise.
I looked around at the packed house of happy faces, the once-dilapidated walls now restored from the sturdy wood of five old barns and the many news articles on the wall. Kewpee has got a really good thing going.
For decades, Michigan restaurants like Mr. Burger, Kewpee Burger, Nip N Sip, the Choo Choo Grill, and others have continued to weather the culinary trends and mismanagement pitfalls. Within each is a rich history, great original flavors and—most important—good beef.
I sat down with the family behind the Choo Choo Grill in downtown Grand Rapids—actually every person inside does. The family works behind their five-seat bar top packed into a tight 8 x 8 room, cozy and warm. A perfect spot for a wintery afternoon.
The Choo Choo offers their burgers by the pound. And yes, you can get a whole pound burger, rightfully called The Legend. I went with the half-pound option, with all the fixings, and fries.
It was about the size of my entire hand, and heavy. It was incredible, fresh, and came with a bun that was strong enough to handle the heft. Not a thing to complain about. That’s what you get when you don’t mess with 60 years of simple goodness.
Whether you’re going to go to Hot ‘n Now, Kewpee Burger, Choo Choo Grill, Nip N Sip or elsewhere, let good beef ground you.
Devinn Dakohta is a contributing writer for Michigan Enjoyer. Follow her on Instagram @Devinn.Dakohta and X @DevinnDakohta.
