After nearly 70 years of serving up comfort food and equally comforting memories, Frank & Helen’s, a beloved fixture in University City, is closing its doors for good Dec. 8.
For members of the St. Louis Jewish community who grew up with the eatery, its closure marks not only the end of an era, but also the loss of a local gathering spot where generations of families enjoyed familiar flavors, a sense of belonging and those ever loving dough balls their kids melded into sculptures.
“We went there in July, there were like 10 of us, for all the July birthdays in our family,” said Beckie Jacobs, 60, who remembers first going to Frank & Helen’s decades ago with her grandparents. “The food is good, everyone can find what they like to eat, the service is friendly and the grandkids in our party loved the dough balls.”
She was referring to the scraps of raw dough resembling balls of clay that pizza chefs at Frank & Helen’s hand out to keep children entertained while they wait for their food. A wall at Frank & Helen’s features dozens, if not hundreds, of pictures of their creations.
When Jerry Ehrlich learned of the closing, he and his buddy, Kelly Klamen, made a date to head to the restaurant at 8111 Olive Blvd.
The two met playing basketball at the Jewish Community Center when they were 8 years old. They started going to Frank and Helen’s together as teens when they were both working at the J.
“It must have been about five years ago, I approached Kelly and said, ‘It seems like every 10-15 years or so, Frank & Helen’s looks for a new owner,” Ehrlich said. “The next time they do it, what if you and I were to go in on it?’ The place means so much to us, to be able to say we own Frank & Helen’s, or as we refer to it, F&H, would be incredible.
“And I remember him saying, ‘Are you joking?’ And I said, ‘I don’t think I am.’ And he said, ‘No, the restaurant business is too hard.’ And I agreed, but I just started thinking, wouldn’t it be great to end our lives owning Frank & Helen’s?”
Like many people I spoke to, Ehrlich, 67, gives high marks to F&H’s food, especially its signature broasted chicken and thin-crust pizza. He also appreciates the welcoming wait staff, laid-back atmosphere and “ ’50s pizza parlor” décor, which hasn’t changed much over time. He remembers going to the restaurant years ago with his wife and her late grandmother the night before Passover.
“I’ve never seen more bread being eaten in a night,” he recalled, laughing. “And I must have known three-quarters of the people there. They all happened to be Jewish. And it was like more bread, more bread, more bread.”
So fond is Ehrlich of Frank & Helen’s, he committed its phone number to memory. Recently, when he and his brother Steve dined there, Ehrlich once again seemed to know many of the patrons.
“My brother started laughing and goes, ‘What are you, the mayor of Frank & Helen’s?’ ”
Truth is, if Ehrlich ran for that office, he’d face stiff competition.
Patrick Horvath, who owns Frank & Helen’s with his wife, Rebecca (Becca), says the restaurant boasts so many regulars, it would be impossible to know which one to call mayor. He explained that while they bought the business in September 2008, they do not own the building, which was sold last year to a woman who has other plans for it. They looked for other places to relocate, but as they said on their Facebook page, they were “unwilling at this time in our lives to take out a million-dollar loan.”
The juice just isn’t worth the squeeze, said Horvath, who also works as a police officer at Washington University.
Horvath says he and his wife are the fourth owners of Frank & Helen’s. The business started in 1956 when Julius Seitz opened Jule’s Pizza Parlor at Olive and Midland boulevards. Three years later, Frank and his wife, Betty, bought the place from Julius and changed the name to Frank’s Pizza. About a year later, Frank’s sister, Helen Seitz Wentzelman, came in as a partner, and brought along the name change as well as her recipe for the restaurant’s garlicky salad dressing. Along with the broasted chicken and pizza, customers clamor for F&H’s creamy garlic salad dressing. In 1967, the restaurant moved to its current location.
Mimi Pultman, 60, worked as a waitress at Frank & Helen’s when she was in high school. She says what stands out most, even after all these years, is how much fun the job was.
“The overall vibe was very relaxed, very family oriented,” she said. “If you were hungry you could eat. The big standout memories for me about Frank & Helen’s was the U. City Fire Department and the police officers, that was their hangout. There was always this one table saved for firefighters and police officers from U. City. They ate for free. And we really got to know the local men in uniform, and that was so great.
“The second standout for me is that it sometimes was hard to work because everyone who walked in the door you knew. They were either regulars or they were Jewish community people. I spent more time standing at the tables playing Jewish geography and family catchup than I did actually waiting on people.”
Even so, there’s a good chance Pultman waited on Randy Vines and his family because Frank & Helen’s was one of their favorite dining spots, and they went there often.
“It was an intrinsic part of our childhood,” said Vines, 46, who, with his twin brother Jeff, operate St. Louis Style House, a St. Louis-inspired T-shirt and accessory shop. “Even to this day, we often pick up from Frank & Helen’s on Sunday nights and have an early bird dinner and just pig out. It’s one of the few places that has something awesome no matter what you crave. It’s like an old friend.”
Vines said he and his brother have gotten to know restaurant management over the years because STL Style designed and printed F&H’s 60th anniversary T-shirts.
“In fact, we’re working on a commemorative T-shirt now” to mark the restaurant’s closing, he said.
St. Louis restaurant historian Harley Hammerman, 75, who hosts the Lost Tables website and podcast, has interviewed Wentzelman’s daughter Sharon Robberson about Frank & Helen’s and will run the segment the first week of December. He said that when he was dating his wife, Marlene, who lived across the street from F&H, they would pick up broasted chicken from there most Sundays nights.
Ditto Elaine and Bruce Brodsky, who are F&H lifers. Elaine, 73, lived near the Olive and Midland location growing up and would ride her bike or walk over to pick up food. Bruce, 74, started going there soon after his parents moved to U. City in 1956.
Owner Horvath understands his customers’ affection for the place and said he and his wife are truly sorry to have to say goodbye.
“It’s all about the people, that’s the reason we do it, whether they work for us or eat from us,” Horvath said. “It’s getting to be a very emotional time for us now. My wife is like, ‘I don’t know how many more hugs I can take.’ It’s wonderful but it’s really so emotional.”
Oh, and in case you were wondering, he had this to say about F&H’s time-honored recipes, including the garlic salad dressing.
“It’s one of the things we don’t want to take to the grave, so we’re trying to figure out the best way to move forward with making it accessible to people,” he said. “We will make sure people can get it somewhere, at some point.”
RIP Frank & Helen’s. You had a really, really, really good run.
