Respecting the Elders: Hathaway's Diner
Posted Sunday, March 17, 2019It's very unlikely any area millennial or Generation-Xer has ever heard of Lloyd Hathaway, a long-passed restaurateur who'd apparently been our grand- and great-grandparents' answer to Jeff Ruby, David Falk or Jose Salazar. Nicknamed "Torchy" by friends for his fiery red hair, Lloyd had either owned or operated more than a dozen restaurants in the Cincinnati area over the course of his 50-year career.
Lloyd's first (and last) restaurant was his namesake, Hathaway's Coffee Shop (now known as Hathaway's Diner), which first opened in Carew Tower in 1956. Just as Torchy had struggled with Carew Tower's landlords, so has the current owner of the iconic diner, which recently led to talks of finally shuttering the restaurant for good. Now at seems Hathaway's has negotiated a literal new lease on life, if only temporarily.
Until news hit of Hathaway's potential closing last month, I hadn't visited the restaurant more than a handful of times over the course of the dozen years I've worked downtown. When Carew Tower's food court had turned into a parking garage years ago and a number of retailers had vacated soon thereafter, I felt little incentive to stop by.
It wasn't that I didn't like Hathaway's --it was, after all, the site of my first, overwhelmingly positive goetta experience-- it was just that the diner's atmosphere always seemed too measured and laid back for me to expect to get in and out of lunch on time. And so I overlooked the place as a dining option, again and again, until I nearly lost the opportunity to rediscover it.
I thank all the open-faced roast beef sandwich gods above that I've found it again.
Hathaway's Diner is a living, breathing snapshot of a time long past: the nostalgic 50s decor, the U-shaped, wrap-around bars and periphery of tables and mint-green chairs, the abbreviated team of dining staff that regulars know by name, and the simple menu highlighting breakfast, lunch and dinner comfort food classics, make the restaurant an experience in which one should make an effort to regularly indulge, if only to escape the stressful, fast-paced, nonsensical world of social media and generally awful news that is slowly killing us.
For me, the strongest aspect of Hathaway's menu lies squarely in the breakfast arena, which is served all day. There one can find solid essentials like omelets, waffles, French toast, biscuits and gravy, steak and eggs, pancakes, breakfast sandwiches and other egg, bacon and sausage combos. And, of course, there is the goetta, a generous, six-inch long, thin and crispy slab of the curious Cincinnati sausage made of pork, pin-head oats and spices.
Other popular items include the open-faced roast beef or turkey sandwiches; club sandwiches; the GLT (goetta, lettuce and tomato); the patty melt; the "Geneva" burger (with bacon, cheddar and fried onions); country fried steak; tuna melt; soup and sandwich combos and plenty of milkshakes, malts and ice cream floats.
Hathaway's food is, by no means, innovative --we've all seen these dishes before and have probably enjoyed similar variants elsewhere (although I do still contend Hathaway's serves the best form of goetta). But that isn't exactly the point. The food is solid --maybe not the best in town, but it's competently prepared. And the service may seem a bit too uncomfortably timed for today's anxious, rushed society more in sync with the pacing of fast food restaurants. Yet Hathaway's still manages to get you fed and out the door in under an hour --all you have to do in return is try to relax, breathe in, breathe out, and imagine an era in which people actually valued their time connecting with other people --in person-- more than the collection of emojis on a tiny, blue-light infused screen that regularly crushes our emotional core.
I often find comfort in the wisdom of our elders --and it was at places like Hathaway's where our elders enjoyed their downtime. Who am I to argue?