Every morning, Lou Cotroneo drives from his senior-living apartment in Oakdale to the Perkins just off White Bear Avenue in Maplewood. He usually has a bowl of oatmeal first, followed by either a waffle, pancake or fruit.
He also gets conversation from the restaurant’s servers.
“I went to school with Abraham Lincoln,” Cotroneo, a 91-year-old former Johnson High teacher and hockey coaching legend, joked on Friday. “So every day is a bonus.”
Deb Pedro, who has owned the Perkins since 2002, said Cotroneo and other regular customers have made the restaurant what it is: a place for them to not only go for pancakes and pie, but to talk, gossip, read a newspaper and even play poker. And that’s why Pedro is concerned for them these days.
Pedro has spent her entire 42-year restaurant career with Perkins, but will call it quits come 3 pm Sunday, when the 68-year-old closes the doors for good and enters retirement. But she is not thinking of herself right now.
“I’m worried about these guys, especially Lou,” she said. “He does the same thing every day. He comes here for breakfast and goes to Obb’s for lunch. We need to put in a plea for other restaurants to adopt our people.”
‘THE TIME WAS RIGHT’
Pedro just recently decided to put her restaurant at 1829 N. St. Paul Road up for sale, and the business next door, Unison Restaurant and Banquet, scooped it up. She said the time was right. She’s gotten tired – exhausted, actually – from the long days that came with running her place. And her franchise agreement with Perkins is up in September.
“I would have to re-up, and you have to pay to re-up, and there’s a minimum of what I think is five years,” she said. “And I’m not ready to sign up for five more years.”
It’ll be a tough exit.
“I’m going to miss the customers,” said Pedro, a resident of St. Paul’s East Side. “I’m going to miss the chit-chat. I’m going to miss the stories. I’m going to miss the frustration.”
THE PANDEMIC
And there’s been enough of that since March 2020, thanks to COVID-19 and the shutdown and restrictions that followed and caused her to lose customers, staff and money.
“It will never be the same in the restaurant industry,” she said. “And I don’t think a lot of it has to do with the actual COVID virus. I think it has to do with how it has changed people’s lives, their eating and dining habits.”
But the pandemic also showed what the restaurant means to its patrons and the community. When Pedro was forced to close the dining room, it just her and a cook doing take-out orders because she couldn’t pay her other employees. Then people realized she was struggling and gave her their support.
“Customers would drop off envelopes with money in them,” she said, then shook her head.
Help came from local Lions clubs, too. For two decades, Pedro has been active with the St. Paul East Parks Lions Club, which has held bi-monthly meetings at the restaurant for about 10 years. She is also a past district governor.
“One club bought $3,000 worth of gift cards during COVID, another club bought $300 worth,” she said. “They all ordered pies. They got food to go. Every club that’s in this darn district came in and spent money.”
“I KNOW EVERYONE WHO WALKS IN THESE DOORS’
Pedro employs 15 people – hosts, dishwashers, cooks and servers, including Victoria Nichols. She started working at the restaurant as a busgirl when she was a 14-year-old North High freshman and when it was Hattie Maxwell’s. She’s now 47.
For 15 years, Nichols has driven from her home in Hastings – past many other Perkins – to get to work.
“There are lots of other Perkins, yes, but my people are not there and my relationships with them are not there,” she said. “I know everybody who walks in these doors and they know me.”
Guys like Wally Simonson, 88, and Dave Shanley, 75, who bring in zucchini and apples and give them to Nichols. She then bakes zucchini bread and apple crisp for them.
“We’re going to miss Victoria and Deb, everyone here,” said Simonson, who sat with Shanley at their usual spot in the back of the restaurant’s atrium one morning this week. They used to sit with a group of 15 or so other regulars, “but they all died,” Simonson said. “I guess we’re the originals.”
They’re not sure what they’re going to do, where they’re going to end up getting together after the doors close. Maplewood does have another Perkins – a corporate-run one north of Minnesota 36 – but Simonson smirked after a suggestion that they just go there.
“I haven’t quite figured out what’s next,” Shanley said. “I don’t know. I do know I’m not a good cook, and that I eat a lot here.”
Nichols has seen too many customers lose their spouses, including Simonson, whose wife, Fern, died in January.
“I feel like for some people, I might be the only person they talk to that day,” Nichols said. “And I don’t take that lightly, so I try to take time for them.”
Pedro said she is working to make sure that everyone on her staff who wants a job at a different Perkins has one.
STARTED IN 1980 AS A SERVER
Pedro started with Perkins in 1980 as a server on the graveyard shift at the Vadnais Heights location. After Tom Cory bought it, he made her a night shift manager and then general manager.
Cory turned his Hattie Maxwell’s restaurant in Maplewood into the Perkins in 1989 and Pedro transferred over. Her five kids – two boys, three girls – all worked there under her.
“They didn’t stay long,” she said, then laughed. “They didn’t want to work for mom.”
Son Stephan Hesse was 13 years old when his mom gave him a lesson in working hard. He recalled this week how he rode his bike to the restaurant with the goal of getting $50 from her for a pair of Nike Air Jordan shoes. She threw him an apron and told him to get on the dishes.
“She would pay for this and pay for that growing up, but when it came to certain things, she wanted to teach me a lesson,” he said.
Hesse continued working there through high school, which he said gave him an appreciation and liking of the restaurant industry. He would go on to become a chef, working in several restaurants, including at St. Paul Grill and Masu Sushi. In 2016, he opened his own, Pajarito, along West Seventh Street in St. Paul with business partner Tyge Nelson.
Pedro said owning the Perkins was “never on my bucket list.” That is until she went to Cory one day asking for a raise. He said he couldn’t afford it and offered instead her two other options: Buy the restaurant or transfer to a bigger Perkins for more money.
So she squirreled away her own money when she could and went to several banks for a loan to buy it. St. Anthony Park State Bank borrowed her the money she needed to pull off the purchase in September 2002.
“I figured, why not?” said Pedro, who also refinanced her house for a down payment. “I was already doing all the work.”
‘I WILL MISS THE PLACE’
Hesse said his mom is “too humble” and that she wants a farewell for the restaurant’s employees and customers, not herself.
“People need to say goodbye to her, too,” he said. “She’s been there a long time.”
But he doesn’t believe she’ll slow down.
“Here’s the thing with my mom … she’s almost 70, but opens the doors, gets the kitchen going, cooks, serves, whatever,” he said. “She’s never going to really retire. She’s too Italian and has way too much energy, even at her age, to stop.”
As for Cotroneo – the former Johnson teacher and coach who Pedro is worried about – he says he’s going to be fine.
“But I will miss the place, obviously,” he said. “I’m going to miss the people. And I just hope Deb is happy with her decision. And I want to wish her and Victoria the best of luck. There’s not much more I can do.”
