Barb and Ernie’s: Thanks for the memories

Barb and Ernie's as it looks now. It's been a great place to eat since the '80s.

Source: https://letseatyeg.com/2018/03/21/barb-ernies-old-country-inn/

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“Hallo beautiful.” “For something a little on the spicy side the Louisiana Eggs is outstanding.”

You have to imagine these things being said in a booming German accent to get the full effect of a greeting from Ernie Feuchter who, with his wife Barb, were the founders, owners and operators of the restaurant of the same name.

Initially, I went there for supper, but soon came to realize Barb and Ernie’s was one of the best, if not the best breakfast places I had ever been to.

Over the course of eight years at the University of Alberta in Edmonton, I would have many great meals, and memories, at that place. It was about 30 blocks from where I lived but I walked, cabbed, carpooled and did whatever it took to get there to have one of their amazing meals.

In the beginning
It was the late fall of 1988 and I was part of a hall council tasked with organizing a week-log festival in January called “King Louis”. Our hall vice-president, Joselynne Scoble, suggested we go off campus to discuss the initial planning, so we could have some privacy, and I guess also bond as a group.

She took us to “Barb and Ernie’s” on 72nd Avenue and 99th Street. A couple of the student leaders from previous years discovered the place by accident on their way out of Edmonton, and immediately fell in love with it.

Being German, I was pre-disposed to loving “Barb and Ernie’s” which offered a lot of German fare. I don’t actually remember the first meal I had, likely roast beef but I can’t be sure, because everything was overshadowed by dessert – Apple Struedel.

Everyone who had been to “Barb and Ernie’s” before, and that was about a third of hall council, raved about the Apple Struedel, and they were not exaggerating.

It was awesome.

Yet, as time went on, the allure of Apple Struedel was overshadowed by something else.

Breakfast of champions
Honestly, I cannot pinpoint when I started to have breakfast there, but when I did there was no turning back, partly because there were so many choices, all in generous portions, and prepared so well.

Hotcake heaven – or hell
If you ordered the hotcakes, they would ask you if you wanted one, two, or three – they were all the same price. Of course, being a hungry strapping lad just leaving my teens and entering my twenties, I insisted on three. Tomas the waiter, who was one of Barb and Ernie’s sons, asked me if I was sure – twice.

I insisted, thinking maybe he was just trying to save money. Then I thought, why was he reluctant to believe I wanted three hotcakes.

That day, I chose banana, but you could also have cherry and blueberry.

When Thomas brought the hotcakes out, I could see his reluctance. They were huge! The three of them were probably three inches thick, and dense. I am hesitant to admit this but, although I did finish, it was tough and I was so full I wanted to burst.

Lesson learned.

Waffle world
You had the same three choices if you ordered waffles – cherry, blueberry, banana. But, as dense as the hotcakes were, the waffle was that sweet. I use the singular waffle, because there was only one. It was a circle the size of a Frisbee, covering the whole plate, with whipped cream and your fruit of choice layered over top it.

It was a sugar bomb.

Taste of home
Often, I went to “Barb and Ernie’s” with my good friend, and fellow German, Chris Jesswein. He immediately gravitated to the German Bacon Hotcakes, which his own family used to make. I had never heard of them.

I got to try them early on because, like the regular hot cakes, they were so dense Chris was unable to finish them. They were awesome. Frying bacon right into the hotcake batter was genius. Who knew?

There was a taste of home for me too. One of my Mom’s favourite dishes was potato pancakes. I just loved them. I watched her grind raw potatoes into pulp and mix them into the batter. Once fried, they were a cross between a potato pattie and a pancake. Add syrup, and they were so good.

“Barb and Ernie’s” made them slightly differently. The consistency was pretty close, but theirs were much bigger, as all their portions were. They also tasted different. It took my Mom visiting one time and tasting them to identify what it was.

It turns out, “Barb and Ernie’s” used sour cream in their potato pancakes.

It was quite a contrast from the sugar bomb mentioned above.

Eggs – but not on the spicy side
Ultimately, I settled on the other staple of the breakfast menu – the omelette. Like everything else, they were massive, with three fillings more than sufficient, and potatoes and toast rounding things out.

That was the first time I had tomatoes in an omelette, green onions, and even green pepper.

It was awesome.

Coffee time
When I started going there, Barb and Ernie’s had two entrances, because the place was divided into two parts. On the south side, there was linoleum and it looked like a coffee shop or truck stop. That, I believe, was how the restaurant started out.

“Barb and Ernie’s” sold a bottomless cup of coffee for 25 cents, which was still cheap in the late 1980s. That was the perfect spot to take your time and visit over coffee.

The other side, with an entrance on the east side, was more formal. It looked like a Bavarian chalet.

Changing times
It seemed as the owners became more and more prosperous, they upgraded their restaurant more and more. Over time, the outside as well as the inside began to have that look of a chalet.

One summer, 1989 I believe, Sean Drake and I had access to a car and went to “Barb and Ernie’s”. We went and the sons were sitting outside on the ground, surrounded by beer bottles. They said they were closed for renovations.

It was a family business after all.

Parting thoughts
I used to go to Barb and Ernie’s a lot with my dear friend Chris Jesswein. He had this chant, I will never forget when he wanted to go. He would appear at my door singing “Barb and Ernie’s, Barb and Ernie’s” to the same tune as Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus.

Many of my memories are in the 1990s, 2000s and beyond. I went there for breakfast after my friend James’ stag party; had breakfast there with my friend Christine shortly after being named editor of my newspaper; and went there during the 1993 federal election not only to see the restaurant covered in posters for Liberal candidate Chris Peirce, but to have Ernie himself get all his patrons attention to publicly endorse the Liberal candidate.

Perhaps my strangest memory was going there with my parents and good friend Chris Vining after my convocation in the spring of 1991.

When Ernie seated us, he turned to my mom and said “Hello beautiful”. My dad heard the German accent and kind of scowled slightly. When Ernie came to take our order, he turned to my Mom, at the exclusion of my dad, Chris, and I , and said “How are you doing beautiful?”

“She’s fine,” my dad boomed from behind his menu without looking up.

There was another rooster in the barnyard, Ernie.

I heard awhile back that Barb and Ernie had retired.

It made me sad that I didn’t have one last meal there prepared by them, but happy for all the great memories I have.

More than that, I actually did savour every meal there, because sometimes it took some doing to get there, and it was always worth it. Always.

But I never did have the Louisiana Eggs.