A Year-Round Guide to Franklin and Nantahala

If you know where to look, one clue hints at El’s Drive-In’s recent renovation. Chances are, though, as you sit in your car, windows rolled down, the aroma of chargrilled

Rosemary and Goat Cheese Strata

If you know where to look, one clue hints at El’s Drive-In’s recent renovation. Chances are, though, as you sit in your car, windows rolled down, the aroma of chargrilled

Shrimpburger Lovers Rejoice!

Shrimpburger and fries, El's Drive In, Shrimpburger

If you know where to look, one clue hints at El’s Drive-In’s recent renovation. Chances are, though, as you sit in your car, windows rolled down, the aroma of chargrilled burgers mingling with the salty breeze, you’re not focused on the slightly mismatched bricks anchoring the corner of this Morehead City institution.

That’s because lunch has arrived. Tucked in a grease-speckled bag and expertly wrapped in blue-and-white-checkered parchment, a shrimpburger has hijacked your senses. A soft, steamed bun with a pile of crispy fried shrimp resting on a thin layer of sweet slaw, topped with ketchup, and served with hot and perfect fries — the crispy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside kind.

Mark and Shelton Franks outside of El's Drive In

At El’s Drive-In, Mark Franks (right) and his son Shelton have earned a loyal following of locals and vacationers for their legendary shrimpburgers. photograph by Baxter Miller

Two cooks are manning El’s five fryers, including Shelton Franks, El’s manager and future third-generation owner. He eyes the line of paper tickets dangling above the bun steamer — step one for pretty much every El’s order — and pulls off the shrimpburger orders. Those are his specialty. “That way, I can take some pressure off the grill guy,” Shelton says.

What makes the perfect shrimpburger? Now 36, Shelton’s been making them his whole life, since he graduated from his first job at 12 as fry cook (at El’s, of course). He says it starts with the bun. “Pop it in that steamer for 30 seconds, and you want to get it out while it’s good and soft.”

And then there’s the slaw, his grandmother Helen’s recipe. Helen and her husband, Elvin, built the original El’s in 1959. “At different times of year, cabbage grows different,” Shelton says. “In the wintertime, it’ll be real light-colored. In the summertime, it’s super green. As you mix it up, you have to be able to look at it and tell if you need to add a little more of this or more of that to get it right.”

The secret to making shrimpburger breading? “Put saltine crackers in a bag and get a hammer.”

Shelton doesn’t mind sharing his secret for the shrimpburger’s star ingredient: “We like to bread our shrimp in cracker meal. I’ve had people come in and buy a cup full,” he says with a laugh. “People will ask me how to make it. I tell them, ‘Put saltine crackers in a bag and get a hammer.’ ”

And one more thing, he adds: “We change the oil every day. Every single day. I like it to be good.”

Shelton wouldn’t dare change a recipe — not for the shrimpburger or the cheeseburger, made “all the way,” a k a Carolina-style with chili, mustard, slaw, and onions. And he certainly wouldn’t change the fries. “When we had supply issues during Covid and had to switch to crinkle-cut, they let me know about it,” he says, nodding in the direction of the parking lot full of customers. “We went back to the old ones as soon as we could.”

• • •

El’s customers feel a strong sense of ownership over everything from the menu to the omnipresent seagulls, because this is their home. “We’ve had people come in and say, ‘My daddy asked my mama to marry him back there,’ ” says Shelton’s dad, Mark. “Or, ‘My husband brought me here on our first date.’ ”

Mark has strong memories, too. He was in second grade when his parents moved El’s to its current location on Arendell Street. “I went to Camp Glenn School right down the street, and that’s back when they’d let you walk home for lunch, so I walked here for lunch every day,” he remembers. “If my friends brought a note, they could come with me. My mom would cook for everybody.”

Hands holding a shrimpburger in a car

When patrons pull up for curb service and unwrap the blue-and-white checkered parchment surrounding their shrimpburgers, they’re in for a treat they can enjoy right in the driver’s seat. photograph by Baxter Miller

Except for the few years after he was drafted into the Army, Mark has been right here at El’s. Even today, as his son takes the lead on day-to-day operations, Mark starts every morning the same way: With spatula in hand, he meditatively works his way through a day’s worth of bacon, watching the strips as they sizzle and pop in a row on the grill.

Not much for change, Mark gives credit to Shelton for last year’s renovation that left their customers with a nine-month hankering. “It was long overdue,” Shelton says.

After the overhaul, the Frankses reopened El’s doors — well, door — on January 17, one of the coldest days of the year. The temperature outside didn’t stop locals from rolling in off U.S. Highway 70, pulling into their favorite spots — there are no defined parking places — by the picnic tables under the old live oaks. People who’d engaged in lively speculation during El’s multi-season closure looked around for signs of home and nodded with approval.

Exterior El's Drive-In Sign and menu

Regulars feel a sense of ownership over the El’s menu, from the crispy, straight cut fries to the cracker-breaded shrimp that are tucked inside the drive-in’s signature sandwich. photograph by Baxter Miller

The building’s minimal footprint is the same. The faded cream-colored sign, supplied by Pepsi after a hurricane tore the last one down 15 years ago, still introduces the same menu items. The same carhops hustle through the same glass front door, holding the same ordering pads. “We’ve always had curb service. That’s just how it is,” Shelton says.

And those mismatched bricks? When the sun’s shining at just the right angle and you’re parked in certain places, you can tell that they don’t all quite match.

When the contractors tore El’s down to its concrete slab, Shelton asked them to save the original bricks, and about 90 percent were salvageable. “The color matched pretty good,” he says. “The old ones are just a little more faded.” Along with the sun-bleached sign, those original bricks are a sign of strength. They’re the foundation of home.

El’s Drive-In
3706 Arendell Street
Morehead City, NC 28557
(252) 726-3002
elsdrivein.com

This story was published on May 22, 2025

Robin Sutton Anders

Robin Sutton Anders is a writer based in Greensboro.