Interior of Bobbie's Cafe. One fish on the wall was Greg's grandfather's last catch. The old register was in operation from 1954 until about 2014. 

I don't know if I have ever been to a place quite like this. A place where the food is so big I had to start planning a strategy about how to fit it into a clamshell Styrofoam to-go box as soon as it hit the table. Where halfway through the meal, drinking my drip coffee became more about keeping my metabolism running instead of the usual caffeine reasons. Every time a new plate landed in front of us, my friend and I —  half afraid and half in awe —  stared at each other and gasped.

Okay fine, maybe my brush with a jumbo LuLu's cinnamon roll was similar. But on a Thursday morning in June, the notably tiny Bobbie's Cafe was packed with new diners and plenty of grazers already intimately familiar with this particular deep-fried experience.

We started with a made-from-scratch biscuit smothered in white gravy, before easing into pillowy french toast, classic chocolate chip pancakes, and the biggest chicken fried steak I've ever seen. It reminded me of what I imagine an elephant's footprint to look like. 

It may seem counterintuitive, but we decided it was exactly what the doctor ordered. The prescription had a lot to do with the atmosphere. 

We basked in the energy of the family heirloom taxidermy, which I'm told was shot by the original owners. We felt comforted by the modern cozy signs decorated with southern aphorisms written in script. We drank coffee that made us feel like we were sitting on the porch of a country cabin listening to the birds, and ate the food scaled to fit the footprint of the Lone Star State's mythos. If I were a foreigner, I'd go just to understand what it feels like to be a "true Texan" if only for a day. 

Alan Williams, a relatively recent Bobbie's convert I reached out to, is smitten. "Even though I am a native San Antonian I never heard of Bobbie's Cafe until last year but I have fallen in love with it. Entering Bobbie's is like taking a step back in time," he tells me. 

That's sort of the deal. People seem to love the family-run diner that has been serving San Antonio's far Southside for 50 years.

Chicken fried steak at Bobbie's Cafe. 

It's not really just about the Texas-sized portions (though it's hard to look away from the sentient presence that is the chicken fried steak). The space seems to be sacred ground for the Ferris family, something I've found is contagious when it comes to dining destinations. People want to feel a part of something. 

The story of Bobbie's began in 1972, when Robert and Vida Condra, a Texas couple that ran an old-school ice house, decided to purchase the highly-trafficked Bob Jones “Truck Stop” on Roosevelt, a major thoroughfare in the pre-highway days. They converted Bob Jones into an early iteration of the cafe, frequented by truckers, bikers, Southsiders, and anyone headed north.

In 1986, their daughter, Bobbie, and her husband, Santo, relocated operations to where it stands today on South Flores (and renamed it too). Bobbie was a Southern woman through and through, I'm told. She got her hair done in a Paula Deen-like poof every week and was always saying things like "y'all are crazier than a bull in a China shop," according to her family. Her husband Santo was originally from Laredo. He showed his love in small ways like making smiley face pancakes and sprinkling a little extra cheese on your carne guisada. He was also quite handy around the shop. 

After they were ready to retire, their daughter Nancy took over operations with her husband Randy Ferris. In January 2020, it was yet again time for a change. The fourth-generation owner Greg Ferris officially took over the reigns at Bobbie's with his wife, Ana. 

As a teen, Greg spent his free-time waiting tables, bussing, washing dishes, and helping Santo repair odds and ends around the restaurant. His wife and McCollum High School sweetheart, Ana, tells me that the Padillas were beloved. Santo, who passed away several years back, was her husband's best friend. When the cafe used to close every Tuesday and Thursday, Greg and Santo would religiously repair and deep clean the cafe. 

"Then they went to B&B Smokehouse down the street and had Po' Boys. That was their spot," Ana Ferris tells me, adding that Greg was also the "apple of Bobbie's eye."

People want to go to places run by people they know. They want to feel a part of the family and for their family to feel apart of the family too. On probably a primal level, people love to feel a part of a "clan." I think that's part of the appeal of family-run places like this. 

Ana Ferris explains to me that especially on busy weekends, the place's communal feeling is amplified. People will make friends with each other outside while they're waiting for their table. They'll exchange menu favorites, and sometimes, solo diners might share a table. 

"The old cowboys, you know, they're really retired and tend to come in and and go off and sit together. They'll be like, 'Oh, you want to sit in my table? I'm having coffee.'"

I noticed some of this while I was dining in, observing small talk made across the room. 

Notably, the food at this longstanding watering hole also tastes good. 

Greg, who grew up in the cafe, puts a premium on ingredients. Most of the menu is original, with offerings like biscuits and gravy, chilli, chicken fried steak, pies, and pancakes. Since taking over, Greg has worked to enhance the recipes to prioritize flavor and freshness, he tells me. This week, in honor of the anniversary, he's also rolling out a series of new menu items including the Elvis-inspired "The Kings French Toast" with bananas and a delicate peanut butter and jelly sauce and the colossal "Morning Wrecker," a chicken fried steak topped with a runny egg, house-made biscuit, white gravy, and grated cheese. 

After 50 years of service, the updates were made intentionally to help maintain the integrity of Bobbie's for decades to come. 

"She was a firecracker," says Greg Ferris, describing his grandmother after serving us some of her favorite menu items at his family cafe. "She was just really what grandmothers are supposed to be like."

Bobbie always wanted him to carry the torch. While it's a big undertaking to takeover the family business, Greg says he always knew he would, and he always wanted to. 

"Everything I learned, I learned from them. They kind of knew I was going to take over a restaurant. So they spent a lot of one-on-one time with me," Greg says. "I'm just continuing what my great-grandparents started."

Greg and Ana Ferris in front of Bobbie's Cafe on the far Southside. Greg is the great-grandson of the original owners. The couple took over the business in 2020. 

Five decades after Bobbie's began as a Southside truck stop, it's still a popular place for San Antonians to dine-in. If you ever find yourself there, note the vintage cash register on the counter and the last fish caught by Santo Padilla mounted on the wall above it. 

If you find yourself there and happen to order the chicken fried steak, here's a pro tip: you'll want to cut it in half and stack it to fit it in your Styrofoam clamshell. This is exactly what we did when we were finally ready to head out, vowing to return again. 

The Ferrises are grateful for all the people who have shown up over the years who have helped make it great.

"We definitely wouldn't be here without this community, especially the Southside community. Now, we've grown our reach passed the Southside, but we wouldn't be here without them," shares the rightful heir to the Bobbie's thrown, Bobbie's grandson. "They've really made the restaurant what it is, we're very grateful."

Bobbie's Cafe is open from  7 a.m. to 3 p.m. Thursday through Monday. 

Find it at  6728 S. Flores Street. 

Camille Sauers grew up in San Antonio and studied at the University of Colorado at Boulder.  Send ghost story, nature and music tips to camille.sauers@mysa.com. Twitter: @camillesaccount