Steve’s Lunch

It’s St. Patricks Day 2015, and today I drove to Steve’s Lunch when I got wind that the place was on fire. I had to identify the body of the Cleveland dining zone I grew to love more than anything on that demented strip of Lorain Rd.
Legendary isn’t the word for a place like Steve’s Lunch. The interior color was a kind of yellow that can only be experienced and would be impossible to replicate. The items you could order were written on a dry erase board so faded that it was hard to read. It wasn’t like the writing was smudged or anything like that, but the cold, stale breath of Father Time had weathered the writing on it. Father Time is indeed undefeated, and he sure was hard on Steve’s Lunch. The specials were written on bizarre neon paper with sharpie markers and randomly taped to different parts of the wall. Last time I was in there, I asked why they had a wooden door instead of the old screen door type thing they had, and they said they had been robbed and added the wooden house door as a security measure (WTF?). The OG Steve who founded the place had long since passed away, but there was a xeroxed, blown up copy of his obituary taped to the coffee maker. Oh, and jukeboxes at the counter! They were out of commission, but if you ever find the INSTRUMENTAL version of «Hey Ya» by Outkast in another jukebox anywhere in the midwest USA, l’d be shocked. There was even a circular, spilled-​drink stain ON THE CEILING.
This is the inverted, infinite, IMPOSSIBLE ultra-​void that Steve’s Lunch existed in. An utter vacuum where logic, time, and everything in the dimension we know is inapplicable.
The food was as strange as the interior. The hot dogs were great, but anybody who has ever eaten there knows that this food damages your body in unspeakable ways. It was a part of the charm, a «take one for the team» mentality. I can’t count how many times Steve III (or maybe he was Steve VI) burned my fries. He once passed out STANDING UP at the griddle and was too injured to work. They also had mystery items that nobody bought like the «Western Sandwich». My pal from Montréal came down once and ordered it and even the cook didn’t know what it was.
Interior and food aside, Steve’s Lunch had a vibe that operated on its own terms. You could go on a Saturday night because you’d think it’d be wild in there, and it’d be completely empty. Or you could go on a Wednesday during a blizzard and the place would be packed with turnt up heads for no reason at all! I’ve seen a woman at the counter eating a hotdog turned upside down with all the chili and shit falling all over the place and when someone next to her asked if she was ok, he got a full plate of fries to the face. A buddy of mine drunkenly blew a big fat gator tail of coke off the counter while my other pal was passed out on the counter. Dooley once threatened to taze a mexican, a hispanic, a black dude, a white dude all while efficiently helping get orders out in a timely fashion. What are we going to do without this place?
I remember spending time at Steve’s when I didn’t know what to do with myself or where to go. If I had anxiety in the middle of the night, sometimes I’d just go to Steve’s. In the joy of company, or in the sadness of my solitude, Steve’s was a place I knew would never change and always be there. It couldn’t change, it was impossible. I even spent a shitty Christmas Eve there a few years back with a pal. Everything is different now.
Everybody at the scene of the fire today said «it just exploded». As a Clevelander, and as a guy who understands the metaphysical nuances of life as it pertains to Steve’s Lunch, this realization couldn’t be more profound. IT EXPLODED.
This place was open for 60 YEARS straight, over half a century. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and the damn place goes skyward on St Patricks Day! This is the Cleveland equivalent of ⁹⁄₁₁. The last time Steve’s WILLFULLY closed was when Kennedy got assassinated!
Sad as I am to see Steve’s Lunch go, it’s demise couldn’t have been any better. The engine just seized up, it’s legs gave out. The place just blew up. Amazing! Now when speaking in myths about how singular Steve’s Lunch was, when the next out of towner asks to visit the place you can just say: «no, it blew up.»
I’m thankful for the times I spent there with the people I love and for the great hot dogs.
I’ll close my long overdue review with a Jacques Derrida quote that jives situationally:
«What else is there to love anyway? One cannot love a monument, a work of architecture, an institution as such except in an experience itself precarious in its fragility;: it hasn’t always been there, it will not always be there, it is finite. And for this reason I love it as mortal, through its birth and its death, through the ghost or the silhouette of its ruin, of my own — which it already is or already prefigures. How can we love except in this finitude? Where else would the right to love indeed the love of right, come from?»

Now that Nick’s Diner has turned toward hipsters with a remodel and destroyed the «dive» atmosphere, we headed down the street to Steve’s. As many other’s have written, it’s nothing to look at — unless you occupy yourself with reading the long list of available food choices posted on an old school wooden board behind the counter, and/​or the hand written specials on what looks to be finely aged construction paper, taped to the wall.
Now you see, that’s what I Ioved about Nick’s. It was gritty and real and you got what you got «as-​is», no frills, no apologies. Steve’s is the same way — our waitress, a nice Greek woman told us that the place has been in business in that same location for 61 years. Despite the rough appearance, they’ve got to be doing something right to stay in business — and that right… is the food.
My son ordered biscuits and gravy (which for quality control [and Unilocal reviews] I had to sample) that was very good. Again, no frills, but the gravy sure tasted homemade to me, and it was a good size portion. I wasn’t as hungry, so I just got standard breakfast, eggs, toast, bacon: I ordered my eggs over-​medium and they were a fair facsimile, the bacon was crisp — but the hash browns were watery. I had ordered them extra crispy even, but I know some places have them pre-​shredded and put them in water to avoid browning. So, if you’re fussy, maybe skip this standard. But again, it’s the kind of place where if you’re going to come in all pretentious about the degree of crispness, the number of grill markings etc., maybe you should go elsewhere.
There are many other menu items I’m looking forward to trying at this last vestige of local, down-​home divery.

This place is wayyy better if your high on PCP. juss sayin. Great hot dogs with chili sauce. Amazing people watching. Yeah the neighborhood is rough but so what. I know its not some hip, dickhead bar but try it… smoke wet first, though.

This place is the best at what it does. Super cheap, super simple food. I stop in a lot early on Saturday mornings and get eggs. The ladies behind the counter are gruff but actually super sweet and nice, you just need to roll with them.

The greasiest of spoons.

A favorite of mine for years. I usually get a 3 pack of their Slaw Dogs with mustard and a cold coke in glass. The place was just remodeled. Miss the old diner look. Surely a place to hand down the family.

Chili dogs! Eat here after your all-​nighter. It isn’t particularly fast, but it is plentiful, and cheap. This is just one of those classic joints that warms your insides.

Consistent all the day leave your pretensions at your car or don’t come in cause ain’t nobody got time for dat here. Grab a WV style Slaw Dog. Late night breakfast good and cheap and always a friendly crowd. Neighborhood hangout and others treated just the same it’s that kinda place

This is NOT the Hot Dog Inn, that’s down the street. The chili is more like a ‘sauce’ so think coney. The dogs are all beef and grilled (yum). The slaw is freshly made. Soda’s are about .50 per can. The home fries with gravy are delicious.
Sure, the place could use a makeover, but the price of the dogs would go up, then there would be people complaining about that. It is what it is. It’s just a little dive place in a sketchy area. You may get ‘the look’ from a lady of the night. You may sit at the counter next to a hard-​working police officer, or someone who looks homeless.
Stop in and taste for yourself.

We were in the neighborhood and had to stop based on nostalgia alone. My mom was so excited to go back because she remembers her grandfather bringing over a box of chili dogs every Sunday when she was little. We went inside, a tiny dive restaurant with a little counter. We ordered 12 hotdogs to go to take home for the weekend (she assured me they would hold up nicely) and it was just around $ 20. When we finally got around to eating them that night I thought they were good but nothing spectacular. My mom said that they were better back in the day, but none the less try out this cleveland staple. Or better yet, try it when your drunk because it’s open ²⁴⁄₇!

It’s 2:30 am, the bars are making last call, and you’re hungry. Taco Bell? Nah, you had that last night. Nunzios? Nope, food poisoning is never a good way to end the night. You remember a friend who mentioned a Mecca of late night fare, called Steve’s Lunch.
You figure you’ll try it out, and shortly after arriving you quickly realize stopping at Steve’s Lunch is the best of the questionable decisions you’ve made all night. I’m willing to bet you’re not sober, nor are any of your fellow patrons.
If you know what’s best for you, you’ll order 4 chili-​cheddar slaw dogs. While you wait for your little slices of meaty heaven to arrive, you might be fortunate enough to engage in such activities as figuring out the 5-​song jukebox, admiring their handwritten signs informing guests they will not charge their phones, or discussing the dire state of the Browns with the cracked-​out tranny hooker sitting to your right and the noticeably drunk uniformed officer working security.
Then it arrives. The (usually disgruntled) employer drops your dogs in front of you and rolls her eyes as she hastily demands «tap or bottle» in response to your request for water to help scarf down the dogs as quickly as possible. You grab the first dog, and greedily take a massive bite. Your palate is almost instantly bombarded with spicy chili, gooey cheddar, cool, crunchy slaw, and the perfectly prepared hot dog, all encased in a steamed bun. The ingredients, while alone are all delicious in their own regard, create a borderline orgasmic synergetic symphony of flavor.
You eat all four dogs as quickly as possible, barely chewing, face covered in chili, your manners all but forgotten in the midst of gastronomical ecstasy.
When you finally finish, you begin to realize these wonderful treats are reacting as an edible rocket fuel, ready to combust when combined with the unreasonable amount of alcohol in your stomach. You flag down the waitress, and pay her as quickly as possible. Don’t forget to thank her for presenting you with the greatest thing you’ve ever eaten at 3:30 am. It’s not her fault you’ve irresponsibly created an internal gastrointestinal Hiroshima in your gut.
You rush to your car, worried more about soiling yourself as a fully grown adult than the fact that you’re several times over the legal limit.
After you’ve gotten home and resolved your issues, you’ll sit back and reflect on the best hot dogs in Cleveland while you take down a double dose of Tums and ask yourself: was it worth it? You bet yer ass it was.

Open 24 hours! This is the best hot dog dive around! Try the polish boy and the chilli cheese dog! Home fries are amazing! Wash it all down with hot cocco. This place is really really cheap and very good. Clean and tidy. A must try.

$hits the diggity!!!
Dog with chili… slaw and stadium mustard!!!
late night for people watching… with that being said… come at night. get the dog I just told ya about. and you’ll agree with the 5 star !!!

Big fan of the place. I hate the location, they deserve better. Steves should really start to consider moving to a more «scenic» location. The people who work there are great, but it’s sad that they have to deal with riff raff and the beggers every night. People will still come to Steves Hotdogs after getting wasted if they were in the heart of Ohio City or even Gordon Square. Trust me. Move.

Been coming here for a while now and I have to say these are some good ass hot dogs. And super cheap too

I have no idea how to properly rate this. My brother in law took me on a bar crawl and said we had to end the night here. It was about 2:30 in the morning, and I was a few sheets to the wind. Lots of things are a dim blur from that night, but I do vaguely remember the sensation of three delicious chili dogs smoothly traversing the distance between my mouth and my beer-​filled belly. It was the perfect cap to my buzz. The neighborhood is a bit dodgy, but Steve’s is one of those places that shine like an oasis in the desert, and the clientele’s diversity is evidence to that case. They had everything from a Diddle eyed Joe to a damn if I know on the menu, but I think they know that it’s the chili dogs that keep the folks returning. Get yourself a dog at Steve’s after your next night on the town.

OH man… I’M WASTED! Let’s go pound some hot dogs at Steve’s Lunch! Yeahhhh!!!
Try a hot dog omelet! The hotdog song by Buck Owens is U3 on the mini juke boxes! Play it as many times as you can while you are pounding your hangover cure at 3am!

Chili and slaw dogs all day! Their fries are tasty too! The establishment and crowd might look a little offsetting but don’t let that scare you away! Definitely one of my top 10 favorites and extremely cheap!

Peggotty was my collie. I used to buy hot dogs from Steve’s for both of us. We ate them in my car parked on West 50^th Street. She liked hers with just chili and I liked mine with chili, onions, mustard and slaw. We both ate two. It got to the point where if we were driving within a few blocks from Steve’s she stood on the seat, nose pressed to the window, tail wagging frantically.
Peggotty left me. I still go to Steve’s. Maybe because I remember her so well when I park on 50^th Street or maybe because I simply enjoy the place. I omit the slaw these days and I sit at the counter. This little diner is typical to what can be found in most big older cities.
I have no idea why so many reviewers shiver over the location. There are places I never go, ever, like Chagrin Falls or Hudson. They are scary to me. West 50^th and Lorain Avenue is far more tolerant and welcoming of differences.
LA has Pink’s with stars waiting in line to buy hot dogs with odd toppings named after people with money and fame. Cleveland has Steve’s with no lines and a Peggotty hot dog but no one but me knows its name.

I love this dive!
My grandfather, God rest his soul, used to bring the entire family a box full of hot dogs from Steve’s during Browns games on Sundays. I’m talking, approximately 50+ hot dogs! Damn, those were the days.
This is where I learned what ‘slaw dogs’ were all about. Now, we don’t say it, but we order our slaw dogs with chili and Steve’s are the best, hands down. For the newbies, ‘slaw’ is coleslaw. This place has been here forever and a day and I’m proud to say I EAT HERE!
I stop in from time to time just to have a Sprite and a slaw dog to bring back fond, family memories.