Steak night at Chinatown? Yes, please

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Do me a favor and think of your favorite Chinese restaurant. Got it?

Now, what’s your go-to dish? Maybe it’s General Tso’s, Chow Mein, or the egg rolls. Or maybe, like me, it’s the crab rangoon.

But here’s the twist: What if I told you there’s a (not-so) secret menu item at one local spot that’s got people absolutely hooked? I’m talking about Chinatown and their steaks.

Yep, you heard that right, steaks at a Chinese restaurant. And not just any steaks, but ones with an extremely loyal following.

I have a confession. I claim to be a foodie, but I’ve never ordered their steaks. Cue the dramatic gasps.

Some of my favorite people were downright appalled to learn I pretty much order the same thing every time I go. Creature of habit? Maybe. But I’m about to change that…

Because I can’t do anything halfway, I went full send with the 22oz. bone-in ribeye, affectionately called the “Big Ass Steak” by at least one longtime regular. 

It came with a side salad that was topped with crunchy chow mein noodles, tomato, and pineapple. I’d never had pineapple in a salad before, but it was a delicious surprise. The bright flavor and acidity were a great addition. I tried it with both the Thousand Island and French dressings; both were good, but the Thousand Island in particular was creamy, thick, and full of flavor. I’d happily drench a burger and fries in that. 

Then out came the steak. It was massive, like the size of my head, still steaming, and smelling like pure, savory heaven. And right there, shimmering on top of it all, was the real showstopper: the sauce. Warm, buttery, and golden brown, the sauce clung to everything on the plate like it knew it was the star. I didn’t know it at the time, but this sauce has been a well-guarded secret for decades, a recipe passed down in the family and never shared. One bite, and I understood why.

Bright, green asparagus with a satisfying snap, tender and fresh. The potatoes were golden, salty, and slightly crisp on the outside, adding just the right amount of crunch to balance the dish.

The steak was cooked medium, tender, juicy, and packed with flavor. The sauce tied it all together with a buttery, savory richness that deepened each bite, cranking the flavor dial up a few notches. The potatoes soaked it up, turning every mouthful into a flavor bomb.

And those bits by the bone, drenched in sauce, were pure gold. The kind of bite that makes you sit back, grin, and say, “This is the best decision I’ve made all week.”

Now that my taste buds were happily satisfied, I turned my attention to chatting with Mae Nar Leedy, general manager of Chinatown.

Mae Nar shared that they started making their salad dressings in-house after running out of French dressing one night. A friend’s mom gave them that recipe, and they never looked back. 

As for the Thousand Island, that one’s a family recipe, straight from her dad. And it’s not just the dressings, family recipes make their way into all kinds of dishes here. That’s a recipe from her mother’s kitchen. They added it to the menu a few years ago, and it quickly became a fan favorite.

Chinatown, located at 283 Ashland Road in Mansfield, has been in the family for over 50 years, opened by Mae Nar’s parents, Susie Chin and Yut Tong Chin, in 1974.

But before that, the building was a steakhouse. And Mike, the previous owner, shared his steak knowledge with the Chin family when they took over. That’s why steaks have always been on the menu, though the family reintroduced them with their own twist.

“We were used to the way we ate our steaks,” Mae Nar explained, “and so we thought, well, why not? We’ll try and see how everybody likes it.” 

And just like that, Chinatown’s signature steak flavor was locked in. No take-backs. No substitutions.

The steak sauce is still the original, still top-secret, and still off-limits. Don’t bother asking, it’s locked down tighter than the Krusty Krab formula.

“It was something we used at home,” she said. “I think that’s what gives our steaks a different flavor. I don’t know that you can get it anywhere else.”

King, Mae Nar’s brother and the man cooking all the magic behind the scenes, came out and shared, “people come to a Chinese restaurant, they don’t expect to get a steak, a good steak, but then a lot of people will try it and they end up really liking it.” 

I have to disagree with King on one thing: this wasn’t just a good steak. It was a great steak. The kind that could go toe-to-toe with any steakhouse and hold its ground.