Bob's Corner Take-Out: Saint John's fast-food time capsule

Bob's Corner Take-Out isn't a typical fast-food experience.

It's more like a time capsule: think taxidermic ducks, vintage arcade games, plastic-covered picnic tables and a handwritten menu. The Catherwood Street restaurant has been a cheap, tasty hangout for generations of west Saint John residents.

"I don't want it fancy. This is old school, and it works," said owner Bob Wong, 78. 

Wong — literally born into the business in a room above his family's restaurant — started work at age 13 at Dick's Telephone Kitchen, the Main Street north eatery his father, Lodack (Richard) Wong, opened in 1954. Before that, Bob's grandfather, who immigrated to Canada from China, was also a restaurateur.

All told, the Wong family has been in the food business for over 100 years.

Forty-six years later, Bob still works six days a week alongside three generations of his family.

CBC reporter Julia Wright captured this behind-the-scenes look at the west Saint John institution.

Bob's Corner Take-Out might not look like much from the outside, but "everybody eventually shows up here," according to Bob. 

"We have lots of regulars," said Peter Wong, Bob's son and co-owner of the restaurant.

"We have customers that started out as kids: their parents were sitting them on the counter. Now they come in, and some of them even have their own grandkids that they bring in. Any of them that are working out west, this is the first place they come when they come home."

Bob opened his first restaurant in 1971. After moving several times he finally landed in his current location in 1985. The interior hasn't changed much. Most diners still sit at wooden picnic tables covered in plastic tablecloths.

"There was a plan behind that," said Bob. 

"A picnic table, people have an idea that you can sit with people [they don't know] and they do."

Some of the business cards on the old Pepsi signboard date back decades and advertise businesses that no longer exist.

Two arcade games in the restaurant — Ms. Pac-Man and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — date back to the 1980s. Bob inherited them from a friend in the amusement business who died.

"They're just for the kids to come and throw a quarter in," said Bob.

"We don't make no money on them: in fact, we lose money. But it's just something that you don't see everywhere."

A handwritten menu posted by the take-out entrance. At $12.90, an order of clams and chips is the priciest item. Most are less than $10. 

"It kills me to raise the prices," Bob said. "People have had enough of everything going up. It adds another burden. They come here on welfare day, or when the cheques come in, and it's a treat for them."

Bob the stuffed birds date back over 25 years old.

"The guy that brought all these birds in here, he's dead now," he said. "I don't throw anything away."

"That's part of the decor here. Everything is old, especially me."

Bob fries hamburgers and onions on the grill for the lunch rush. If he has time, he'll go out and sit with the regulars and chat.

West-side resident Norma White, has been coming to the restaurant for 31 years. "I knew her mother before Norma here was born," Peter said.

According to White: "I come because it's good and affordable. It's just that you feel very welcome when you come here. It's a family-oriented business."

Bob wipes down the counter while waiting for customers to arrive for lunch.

Cooking and cleaning all day is "hard work," Bob said. "I'm 78 years old and I'm slower now. It's never-ending."

Fries are the side order of choice for most dishes at Bob's.

While the deep fryer plays a major role in the cuisine, Bob hates the nickname "Greasy Bob's," which is what a lot of west-side residents tend to call the place. "I don't use grease," he said.

"We don't grease cars here. That there's oil." 

A customer picks up an order of sliced clams and hot turkey sandwich. 

"People will come in here and dicker," Bob said. He's "never turned a kid away," according to his son.

During the Groundhog Day Gale of 1976, "we were the only ones that were operating in the city," said Bob.

"We fed all the city workers that had to be out. We did everything manually: we didn't have any blowers, we did everything with propane torches, but we did it — we fed the crews through the worst of it."

Bob chats with his granddaughter and part-time employee, Jill Wong, 26.

"That's the way we work here — in the family style," said Peter.

The family motto, said Bob, is working together toward a common purpose. 

"I don't live elaborately," he said. "I live in a trailer and drive an old truck. Sure, I'd like to make a million dollars on a hamburger. But it can't be done."

Bob keeps the place stocked with stacks of retro magazines.

Trading gossip is part of the business.

"People tell you things because you just become one of them," he said. "You can sit [here] and talk about motorcycles, sickness, this and that person, hunting, fishing — that's part of the camaraderie in this place. It's not just a restaurant."

A vintage photo of Dick's Telephone Kitchen, which Bob's father opened in 1953.

Bob is second from the left: at the time he was 14 years old and driving a delivery car.

The advertising slogan was, "When You're Hungry, Go to Your Phone Instead of Your Kitchen!" 

In 1958, a fire destroyed the restaurant and a large swath of Main Street North. Later, Bob's father opened the Paradise Restaurant on Charlotte Street.

A vintage menu from the 1980s advertising "man-size portions." Almost nothing, according to Bob, has been added or removed over the years. 

In 2017, the bestsellers are still hamburgers, liver, clams and steak.

An early incarnation of Bob's Take-Out, which operated from 1979 to 1985 on Main Street West. There aren't many west-side restaurants, according to Bob, that have outlasted his business — although Romano's Pizza and Deluxe French Fries on Main Street west might come close. 

Peter, said it's not clear when Bob, pictured working in the kitchen, plans to retire. Whenever he does decide to go, Bob said, "Peter has really earned the right to have this business." 

Three generations of Wongs: from left to right, Bob's grandchildren Jill and Michael Wong, daughter-in-law Ann, son Peter, and Bob. "We have a unique thing here," said Bob. "I have the older crowd, Peter has the middle crowd, and my grandson, Michael, has the younger crowd. So we got the whole bases covered here."

Although the take-out generally gets positive reviews on Twitter, Yelp and the like, Bob is still wary of advertising on social media, which he believes is a "very dangerous thing." Besides, he says, "we've been at this long enough that we don't need to bother with all that."

Bob and Peter don't have any plans to renovate or retire. "I have a magic retirement number: it's called 911. When they take me, that's when it's going to be done," said Peter.

"I'm a throwback," Bob said. "People come here that I've known for 70 years because it's nostalgic. It's a place to come where we know the old days."