Dick Clark’s Bar and Grill

This place needs to close it’s doors and start over. What can I say. Nobody dining there should have been a clue. Limited menu and poor quality at that. Will never go back. Stick with paradise bakery or Taberna inside security.

Okay dated place with so so airport food. Was flying the red eye back to Atlanta and wanted to eat before my long overnight flight. Waitress was nice but didn’t go out of her way to be friendly.
The place really needs a remodel or at the very least new seat cushions!

Poor food with below average service! What could be better?
If you are waiting for someone at the airport and looking to eat do yourself a favor and go to the Paradise Bakery across the hall.

This seems like a decent place to get a drink, if youre so inclined, before going thru security.
The service was so so, but I also think our waiter was in training. We didnt venture very far into the actual restaurant, just sat at one of the pub tables by the enterance to keep an eye on the security line, so I guess its good for that as well.

Horrible service combined with bad food. Waitress started out with a bad attitude and a complete lack of desire to meet customer needs. Everything was a «no» rather than a «I’ll see what i can do.» Her helper brought my entrée before the appetizer. I sent it back. 15 minutes later when I was done with the appetizer the waitress brought the same plate of food out! It had been baking under the heat lamp! They never filled my water glass. Salmon was dry and they were out of potatoes. Now waiting to see if waitress checks and notices I’m ready for my check. Never again at this place! (I ended up waiting for the check for about 10 minutes.) I ended up telling the waitress as i left how frustrated I was with my experience. She said she was sorry. I left in a hurry before she called me «hon» one more time!

Really bad. Opt for Paradise Café & Bakery.

Your choices outside of security in terminal 3 are pretty slim: Dick Clark’s, Sbarro’s (currently in bankruptcy), Paradise Bakery Café and Starbucks. After eating at Dick Clark’s a half dozen times, I can safely say that the food is horrible. Today I tried the Classic Burger and had to stop after one mealy bite. It looked like the patty was either boiled or reheated in a microwave. It didn’t look like hamburger meat. I settled for the fries and pickle which were at least edible.
I would have complained but my server (female bartender) was having a loud crying argument/​meltdown in the kitchen with the manager. I decided to sign the check and bail before things got worse.

Ever stop for a meal and regret it as soon as the meal came? The food is un inspired, plain tasting. Probably just reheated.
The music is great for people who grew up in the Dick Clark era — like my mom and dad — but they would not pay that much for a meal.
It’s like a wanna be restaurant.
Maybe a visit from Chef Ramsay would straighten them out! Thee only reason two probably survive at all is because of the Dick Clark name an the bar is close to the exit…

This place is reminiscent of the 60s and so is the food. My toast actually tasted like it was made in the 60s and free dried until 2010. Everything tasted like it was made in a microwave and the food came out WAY too quickly for me to believe it was made from scratch.
The only plus: The waitstaff were fast and courteous.

Fast and courteous. Clean and functional. Menu selection is ok. This is to restaurants what ramen noodles are to college hunger.
It is the best choice in the area, but dont expect too much — or anything really.
I wonder if the Dick Clark people sat around and decided to make a really mediocre rest, with bad food, and put a lot of pictures up from the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s & 80’s with the hope that you and i would forget about the bad service, bad food and sterile lifeless environment.
For any road warrior, by the time you are eating here, you have given up on having a good meal and you are eating to eat, not because you enjoy it.
I got the club sandwich and it was a club sandwich — not terrible, definitely not great and it is what you get with bland turkey, bland bread, limp lettuce and green tomatoes [should it have been green?]
If this is a grille, i am not sure what they grilled? No one would ever miss this place if it ended, however other road warriors would sit around and say. ’ did you ever have to stay at a motel 6 or eat at a Dick Clarks?..”

Okay, the food blows ass here. That much is a given. But you’re only eating here because 1) it’s the company dollar and 2) you’ve lost all respect for yourself somewhere in Salt Lake City or Long Beach. So let’s not necessarily judge it on the quality of food.
Rather, let’s judge it on the quantity of food. You get a shit ton. And, the waiters know exactly what kind of clientele they’ve got so if you’re on your Blackberry or laptop, they leave you alone while you shamelessly tackle that mountain of chicken tenders and the monster milkshake.
Three stars because you get exactly what you expected (a non-​judgmental waiter and a place to sit down).

When you’re trapped at an airport waiting for all your relatives to fly in, and you don’t want to negotiate the complicated inter-​terminal transit system to get to a Wendy’s, you might find yourself in my situation. You think «Hey! Dick Clark has a restaurant!» and even though that guy is on death’s door, maybe just maybe he’s somehow involved in the quality control of this place. I mean, it’s the only restaurant I know of with his name, so you’d think he’d want his sole namesake to be nice or at least palatable.
If Dick Clark wasn’t down on his luck enough already (did you see the New Years countdown two years ago??), this place is worse than the worst diner, but at twice the price. The hostess was confused and we had to wait to be seated in an empty restaurant. The waitress was really, REALLY confused, and didn’t really understand our order for cheeseburgers. When she figured it out and brought them, she neglected to bring ketchup even though we asked twice. The food itself was eerily reminiscent of the stuff served in my elementary school’s cafeteria, except worse. I looked around, and all the bread/​bun products were a strange bleached white color, like the bread you find in backwoods gas station sandwiches.
If the food and service wasn’t bad enough, there was awkward stuff going on around us. Besides the too-​loud creepy replays of American Bandstand, our waitress carded a man with a HEARING AID when he ordered a beer. When the guy got angry, she tactlessly blamed her manager, and pointed to her in case the guy wanted to complain. On the other side of us, a man was waiting to sign his bill, but couldn’t because he wasn’t given a pen and was told to wait. Further down the way, a woman was confused that her salad didn’t come with dressing; she’d had to pay extra to get it.
Meanwhile, we still didn’t get ketchup.

Well, what did we expect. After all, we are in an airport. But wait, now days airports are offering some pretty tastey food. Not in Terminal 3. Not at Sky Harbor. Not on this day. I’d say maybe we picked the wrong things, but as I looked around, not only did things not look so appealing, the guests were definitely not members of the clean plate club. My turkey club came with a lemon garlic mayo (yuck I say) and was served on a thick ass hoagie roll with 2 thin pieces of microwaved bacon, 2 thin pieces of processed turkey (think Lunchables) and a disc of american cheese. More bun than stuff easily. Rickie ordered the Philly Cheese and we quickly renamed it the Silly Cheese. Again, way more bread than the good stuff. The fries were so so but the pickle, well thank God for that pickle, cuz it sustained me through the first screaming child on our flight (see review below… if you’re brave enough). I settled for 1800 as they didn’t have Patron. Rickie settled for a Dos XX as they didn’t have any vanilla vodka nor Franjelico (some of the fixins you need for his fave drink — updide down pineapple!). Our server, a bit stand offish at first quickly warmed up to us as she realized we were fun gay guys at the beginning of a trip with vacation money burning a whole in our Diesel jeans. A couple of rounds later we were singing a medly of American Bandstand hits and heading out the door for our flight. Buzzed but still hungry.