Larry Sweeney: The passing of a Condado icon.

A view of La Rada Hotel on the Condado Lagoon, where for decades Larry Sweeney’s Scotch ‘n Sirloin, generally known to its local patrons as simply “Sweeney’s,” served as a versatile gathering place that helped define Condado as the San Juan district came into its own. (Wikimedia Commons)

Owner of renowned Scotch ’n

Sirloin dies at 86

By PEGGY ANN BLISS

Special to The STAR

Tributes of notes and flowers, some faded from the sun, have accumulated on the Condado site where the Scotch ’n Sirloin once reigned. The restaurant is gone, and now so is its popular owner, Larry Sweeney, who died on April 4 at 86.

But what he and his team built formed the cornerstone of bustling Condado, a mecca for tourists and locals alike. To resuscitate a struggling steak house, he came from the cold north and gave it wings.

Under the friendly guidance of the new young host, it became a second home for several decades, and the young Condado thrived.

Larry, or Don Larry, as he was known, was born Feb. 4, 1940, in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Minnesota, the home where he learned about Irish hospitality and developed his hardy Hibernian handshake. Prophetically, his father, Lawrence, worked in the Swift Meatpacking Company, raising little Larry and his sister Eileen with his second wife, Betty, after his first wife, Evelyn, died in childbirth.

He also raised two sons, Tim and Jim, whom Betty brought to the family. 

Larry was known by everyone and was a respected figure for over 50 years, running the iconic gathering place overlooking the picturesque Condado Lagoon. The restaurant in the basement of La Rada Hotel was the kind of place you probably took your parents to, but also went to celebrate a birthday or a mid-level promotion. Scotch ’n Sirloin fans never really got the first S, often just thinking of this pioneering eatery as Sweeney’s, with the steaks piled up by a tall, smiling export from the Twin Cities Irish enclaves, where little Larry was still in short pants in the summer, where his mother died in childbirth, Sweeney’s son, Sean, said in a telephone interview from his home in central Florida.

The same streets of St. Paul were filled with ice hockey or skating in January and February when the mercury dipped to zero degrees Fahrenheit or lower. There would be many other roads to follow before young Larry arrived in the Caribbean, but he was already preparing for a lifetime as a genial host and a clear-eyed entrepreneur. Soon after his graduation from St. Paul High School in 1958, Sweeney joined the Marines, which gave him a direct ticket to Okinawa. There, he was part of a battalion that built modern infrastructure to combat communism in Asia during the Cold War.

“My father didn’t see any action but was there for four years defending Japan and the surrounding countries from the Russians,” Sean recalled.

Sweeney’s four years in the service turned him into a man of grit and purpose, and he took his first job as the manager of the Vestal Hills Country Club in Vestal Hills, New York. There, he married Anne-Marie Mars, and the couple welcomed their first son, Sean.

Soon after, Larry’s wanderlust had led him halfway across the country, to Aspen, Colorado, where briefly he’d led the life of a professional ski bum. Soon, however, warmer climes stuck with him, and he felt the lure of the tropics, which never ceased. That struggling steakhouse in San Juan beckoned, and he transformed it into a thriving business for an early generation of pioneers and tourists alike. 

In the process, Sweeney would become an honorary Puerto Rican, settling into what would become this gentle Irishman’s bailiwick for several decades.

Sweeney’s steakhouse

With its dark mahogany furnishings and heavy metal plates, it was the gold standard for luxury dining, the place to be for business and Rotary meetings, and even for National Guard induction ceremonies. While a few stray dogs might have complained, the discreet visiting feline population added another charm to the indoor-outdoor venue. Another feature was a mammoth aquarium whose colorful denizens bewitched visitors with four feet or two.

Dining on the terrace was to experience the Condado as it bloomed in its early years with the leadership of individuals like Sweeney. Basking in the purple, crimson, and gold lights was another way to feel the magic. To accompany the perfect steak, aromatic garlic bread beckoned from the sumptuous salad bar, an island first.

Sweeney went on to manage another celebrated steakhouse, Dark Tiffany in San Juan. During this vibrant period, he also partnered two more eateries in the British Virgin Islands, the Pub in Tortola and the Bath & Turtle in Virgin Gorda.

In his later years, Sweeney married Addie Romero and established a home in Rincón, which they shared with the joys of their lives, two local dogs, Cici and Paco. The marriage eventually ended, but the bond remained, finally taking Sweeney full circle while still embracing the tropics, which, in September 2017, began gently shoving him back north. This indefatigable businessman, with a smile to match the thermometer, moved to Florida to be with his family for his remaining years.

Sweeney is survived by two sons, Sean Sweeney and Derek Sweeney Kessler, his daughter-in-law, Mary Sweeney, and his beloved grandchildren, Gavin and Mackenzie Sweeney.

He will be remembered as much for how he lived as for the businesses he owned, said Sean. His father lived with grit, warmth, and a spirit that never stopped chasing the horizon, he said.