Back in this post in 2010, I wrote the following here…
Visiting New York in the seventies, I discovered the mixed joy of a chain of eateries, primarily around Times Square, called Tad's Steaks. A Tad's was a steakhouse the way a stripper is a professional dancer…but I have to tell you: I've had worse steaks in fancy, well-reviewed restaurants than I used to get at Tad's for a fifth the price. The decor was nothing fancy unless you have a thing for red-flocked velvet wallpaper, which is what they had at some of the Tad's outlets. It was cafeteria style and in every Tad's I ever visited in Manhattan, there was a little Hispanic fellow behind the counter — it seemed to be the exact same guy in every Tad's — whose job was to stand there and ask everyone as they slid their trays past him, "Jew want onions?" I always told him, "Yes, the Jew would like some onions." I was always afraid that since I'm really only half-Jewish, I'd only get a half-portion.
The onions were cooked, like everything else at Tad's, in this amazing, all-purpose yellow liquid. I have no idea what it was and had the ominous sense that I was better for not knowing — but they did everything with it. The chef would brush the grill with it, then cook your steak in it. The onions were cooked in it. If you got a salad, they'd daub it on as dressing. If you got a baked potato, they'd put it on in lieu of butter. The garlic bread was made by painting split french rolls with the yellow liquid, then grilling them face down. Once when the cashier handed me my change, I caught her making it out of the yellow liquid.
Great food? No. Good food? Good for the money, maybe. I don't recall what they charged in '70 for the specialty of the house, which was a steak, baked potato, side salad and maybe even onions if you were Jewish, but it was a tremendous bargain and it was also quick. My friends and I liked both those things about Tad's. Then. I haven't been back to one in New York in more than twenty years, though I've occasionally passed the few that have not closed and gone away.
Now, nine years later, I haven't been to a Tad's in New York in more than twenty-nine years…and unless I get back East by January 5, I never will. That's when they're closing the last one, which is located at 761 Seventh Ave., not far from Times Square. My last two trips there, I passed it with my friend Amber and pointed it out and told her about it…but we went to other, better dining establishments.
Craving a good steak? Less than a tenth of a mile away, there's a Ruth's Chris and within two blocks, there's Mastro's, Capital Grille, Gallagher's, Del Frisco's and if you're low on funds, an Applebee's. I guess I'm not the only one who remembered Tad's fondly but went to one of those other places. I certainly did when someone else was picking up the check.
When it shutters, the only one remaining will be the one in San Francisco, which I'd just visited when I wrote the above-linked post. It was pretty good…better than Applebee's and maybe a few of those higher-priced joints I just listed. I don't know how the New York ones have been in the last 29+ years but maybe they weren't as good.
Some of the articles reporting the closure (like this one) say you can still get a steak lunch there for about $9. Looking at the online menu for the S.F. one, the cheapest steak lunch I see is $18.99. Maybe the Manhattan one decided to go with lower prices which meant lower quality.
One night not so long ago in Vegas, I found myself in a casino coffee shop at 3 AM and they were offering a "graveyard special": A steak and fries for $3.95. Somehow, the word "graveyard" did not scare me off so I ordered it, as much out of curiosity as hunger. When it came, I tasted it and decided that the fries were worth about three bucks but that the piece of meat was overpriced at ninety-five cents. Not everything cheap in this world is a bargain.
When the server cleared away my dish, she seemed unsurprised that the fries were gone but the steak was only reduced by the size of about two bites. I asked her, "Do you sell a lot of these?" She said, "Tons of 'em. We must sell fifty or sixty of 'em a night."
I then asked, "Any repeat customers for it?" She said, "Nope." Maybe that's why New York will soon be Tad's-less.