A Passion for Po’Boys: Bear’s Restaurant
story and photography
by Morgan Ford
Bear’s is not the kind of place that jumps out at you. In fact, even when you know that is where you want to go, you still end up driving right past it. But this diamond in the rough is worth searching for. It might be as plain and mundane as Louisiana mud on the outside, but inside you’ll find a history and a flavor so thick it’ll make ya’ tongue slap ya’ brains out.
Nestled on the corner of 21st and Madison in Covington, Bear’s Restaurant has boasted about having the best po’boys on the northshore for over 20 years.
Oddly enough, it started out as a sno-ball stand in Bucktown called Big Bear’s Sno-balls. Judy and Ronald Watson, the founding parents of the family business that’s now three generations deep, decided to move their family and sno-ball stand building across the Causeway in 1977.
“Our eldest was going into high school, and we thought a smaller town would be a better place to raise the family,” Judy recalls. “Of course, this was back when Mandeville had only one red light.” Moving the sno-ball stand 24 miles across Lake Pontchartrain, when the Causeway was a single-span two-way bridge, was quite an ordeal—but it was worth it.
Bear’s began offering po’boys soon after the move to Mandeville. The sno-ball business quickly melted away to make way for what would become the Watson family’s specialty. “It looked like we were still runnin’ a sno-ball stand, because people still spilled out onto the street waiting for their po’boys,” Judy notes.
In 1990, Bear’s moved to its present location, where current owners Josh Watson, Judy’s eldest son, and his wife Daphne, along with extended members of the Watson clan, now churn out a few hundred dripping, delicious po’boys each day.
Antique gumball machines, a stuffed bear missing his marble eyes and old-school arcade games are babysitters to the restless children of parents who wait in a line that grows long and short faster than barbecue sauce can soak through French bread. Order numbers are called out to expectant customers who have already snatched up a hefty stack of napkins in anticipation of the inevitable gravy stain. Some have even loosened the top of the hot sauce, ready to drown their shrimp po’boy.
Northshore natives have spent decades frequenting Bear’s to take part in a daily ritual of a roast beef po’boy and a side of friendly gossip. Those just passing through town will eye the menu of 13 sandwiches, trying to figure out what a French fry po’boy would taste like.
“I’ve been coming to Bear’s since I was in high school, before they moved to this location,” Covington native Sherry White says, while she enjoys a shrimp po’boy with her sister-in-law, Brandy Rogers, also from Covington.
For Ellen Gabel, originally from St. Bernard Parish, the draw wasn’t just the po’boys. Gabel, and her husband, George, relocated to Mandeville a year ago after living in Lacombe post-Hurricane Katrina. “It reminds me of Rocky and Carlo’s back home,” Gabel says. “Same kind of atmosphere, and the people here are pretty nice.”
Besides their best sellers (the roast beef, barbecue beef and popcorn shrimp), the menu has po’boys only the locals would recognize: the French fry and the Ferdie.
“For those who didn’t have much, a po’boy made with French fries and some roast beef gravy was perfect, ’cause it was cheap, good and could fill you up,” says Judy.
The Ferdie, a roast beef, ham and Swiss cheese concoction, is a po’boy from New Orleans. When people started asking for the Ferdie without cheese, Judy figured she’d have to put a name to it. “We were being silly one day and I just said, ‘Why don’t we name it Arnold?’ I thought that would be a silly thing to name a po’boy,” adding that she hoped to not offend any distant relatives or regular customers.
The Watsons say their customer base is a hearty mix of natives and out-of-towners. Daphne says there is one question asked of every customer that immediately lumps them into one group or the other: “We ask if they want their po’boy ‘dressed.’ For someone not from around here, the question will elicit either a blank stare or the standard witty retort, ‘Why? Is it naked?’”
But the Watsons know how to take care of them all—regulars, first-timers, Yankees and good ol’ Cajun boys. What makes Bear’s so successful is not just the po’boys, but the commitment, diligence and attention to detail ingrained in the Watsons that put their hearts into what they do behind the counter. “Everything’s homemade, and we do all our own cooking,” says Josh, proudly, pointing out that their roast beef is always free from any fat.
You would think it wouldn’t matter how many slices of roast beef go on what cut of bread when the customers come in for their lunch break at Bear’s, but Judy’s motto is to make sure everything is ‘gravy.’ “Every order better go out like you were making it for yourself,’” she proclaims. “That’s what I’ve been saying for years.”
When a larger company bought out their long-time bread vendor, Josh thought it was important to find a local bakery that was consistent with their quality standards. “We decided to find someone who had something similar to what we had before, and that was Weiss Guys Bakery.” Weiss Guys Bakery, also a local family-run business, sends over 700 loaves of French bread and around 400 buns to Bear’s each week.
“They’re our oldest and largest customer,” David Weiss, bakery owner, says. “Not to mention the nicest.” Weiss, who’s been selling bread to the Watsons for over 17 years, admires the family for how much they care about their business. “Caring is what sets them apart from these other companies that put less meat on their po’boys or don’t toast their bread,” Weiss notes. “The Watsons always want to put out the best thing they can.”
“It’s that tender loving care,” Madisonville native Ila Ostendorf says, while waiting for her order. Ostendorf was picking up a shrimp po’boy for her sister, but she adds that the hot roast beef smothered in gravy is what she always orders. “You know they always say, ‘if the juice doesn’t run down your elbows, it’s not a po’boy,’” Ostendorf says, with a smile. Ostendorf believes the reason Bear’s is so good is because the po’boys taste exactly the same as the first time she ordered it when the restaurant first opened.
“They haven’t changed, and I hope they never do,” Erna Firmin, from Bush, says. Firmin, her husband, Earl, and their friends, Helen and Walker Whitefield from Covington, enjoy a round of soft drinks and po’boys while catching up with each other. “I lived in New Orleans for 40 years and nothing comes close to the quality of the po’boys they have here,” says Earl.
If, after all that delicious food, customers still have a little room left for some homemade family desserts, Bear’s won’t let them down. There’s Paw Paw’s Creamy Pralines–Daphne’s father’s recipe–and gargantuan cookies that come from Judy’s youngest son, Kelly.
The Future of Bear’s
For now, Daphne and Josh are content with their location in Covington. They had franchised out locations in Oregon and Hammond, but neither establishment worked out. “People ask if we’ll ever go to the southshore or Slidell, but we’ve got all we can handle here,” Daphne points out, after taking a breather from the weekend rush.
Their son, Joshua, who is currently majoring in construction management at Delgado Community College in New Orleans, has mentioned to his mother, Daphne, that he may consider switching to restaurant management. Judy believes her grandson to be fully capable of taking over the family business someday. “He’s been working since he was able and, boy, can he work.” She beams with pride. “He can work any position in the restaurant, so we’ll see how he feels down the road.”
Though Judy has tried to retire, she keeps finding herself drawn back to the kitchen. “I like the work, and I like being around the kids,” she admits, with a shrug and a smile.
Just as you can’t judge a book by its cover, don’t let Bear’s unassuming exterior fool you. Inside is a place with a lot of heart, with food to delight the senses and people who make you feel right at home. After all, here the Watsons make your po’boy as if “they were going to eat it themselves.”
