The Cookie Jar was repeatedly described to me as the diner Fairbanks goes to eat a big brunch after a race, a game or a big day outside.
It’s not that you need to do an all-day hike or ski double-digit runs to earn a ginormous breakfast, but those activities certainly impart an appetite that pairs well with shoving maximal delicious forkfuls into your piehole. (Yes, they have homemade pie!)
To survive as a community staple for almost four decades; be featured on the popular cable TV show, “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives;” and to be filling up by 7:30 a.m. on a Wednesday, the food has to be good. My partner and I were hungry, were not participating in strenuous all-day sports, and were excited to taste some of the Fairbanks institution’s classic dishes.
When I visit a new diner, I’m faced with a major and immediate hurdle related to my adoration of strong, black coffee. When our server rested two huge mugs on the table before us shortly after we were seated, I picked mine up with apprehension. Thankfully, the coffee was hot and delicious, meaning the Cookie Jar experience was officially off to a great start.
I am always gladdened when I see that 3-word poem atop a menu’s breakfast page: “Served all day.” What a hug. To some extent, the menu is what you’d expect of a classic American diner, but definitely leans toward the ambitious end. There’s french toast made out of homemade cinnamon rolls (“Nolan’s Own Breakfast,” $12.99). There’s an entire case full of homemade sweets as you walk in the door. Battered Halibut ($32.99), seven enticing pasta dishes, and Coq Au Vin ($23.99) grace the dinner menu, which starts at 5:00 p.m. But from what I hear, the Cookie Jar is best known for breakfast, and further, it is supposedly the ultimate Fairbanks spot for Country Fried Steak — a reputation we decided to test.
If you’re going to eat country fried steak before work on a weekday, you want it to be worth the very high potential for meat sweats and/or a food coma. This one, quite simply, was. It’s everything you want in a country fried steak ($22.99), and a whole lot more actually, if the last one you had was from the Schwan’s truck, like me. The breading was salty, light and crispy, and topped with a savory sausage gravy with perfect thickness. The steak was not only huge, we’re talking like Chitina sockeye filet size, it was well seasoned and not overcooked, as were the home fried potatoes and impeccably over-easy eggs. My partner can put away serious amounts of food, and he could not, or rather, did not, finish this dish in order to be able to remain awake and upright for the rest of the morning. Great success.
Before I continue with describing my order, you need to know how much I adore breakfast foods. I regularly go to bed impatient to wake up so I can sip on coffee and have toast with a fried egg. I have a prominently placed sticker bearing a Ron Swanson quote that says, “There is no sadness that can’t be cured by breakfast foods,” which isn’t even true, but still brings me joy.
I usually get a feel for a new breakfast place by starting with the classics, so I went with “Hungry Joe’s Platter” with eggs scrambled, bacon, and a waffle with strawberries ($15.99). What was served before me a short while later was a breakfast homerun. The eggs were fluffy and moist, the waffle was flavorful with crispy edges and served with the comically large scoop of soft butter, and the bacon was the perfect, salty bite to tie it all together. I did that little unconscious breakfast shimmy in my seat with a smile because it was all so exciting and pleasing.
As we ate and became more caffeinated, we took in the overall scene: folks filing in for before-work catch ups or meetings; a waiter giving a hug while asking a regular, “how’s your knee?” and the peaceful and tidy dining room, which is much cleaner than what you might picture for a diner. There is clean carpeting, windows devoid of fingerprints, and lots of art and kitschy décor that reminds me of the midwest. You betcha’ the pen you sign your check with has a fabric flower taped to the end of it.
I totally understand why this place has survived longer than I’ve been alive, why it was featured on national television, and why it has the reputation as a spot perfect to refuel after a major day outside.
We both decided that the best case scenario would be to go home and take a nap. That didn’t happen, and that effect of a Cookie Jar meal definitely won’t stop me from going back.
Jenny Weis writes for a variety of Alaska nonprofits and causes in between keeping up on Alaska's doughnut scene, sliding on snow, and gawking at cool plants and rocks along local trails.
