authentic steamed oyster. there at the end of a gravel road, which is blair witchish in the dark, is a plywood and stud shack laid on of top block walls, that is must have dining experience. you cant be a germaphobe and enjoy your visit, so if your expecting ultra white linens and clean tables.......dont go. cocktail sauce is dealt out of former gatorade bottles and the only service is the occasional dumping of buckets filled with discarded oyster shells. that is the beauty of the place. it knows what it is and doesn't pretend to be anything else.
the fried food is fair at best. the shrimp may be local but they are not fresh. the fish is whiting and no matter how you dress it, it will never be prom queen, just not that kind of girl. but.......they get oysters, they do everything right. a heaping mound of briny manna, served on a tray that in a former life saw 1000's of middle school mystery meats. they are steamed in the basement that feels like you walked into a secret clubhouse of ex-moonshiners that gave up "white lightning" for the marshie delicacy. the first one is best. still steaming and boiling within the shell. perfect cocktail sauce, that has the best consistency of any cocktail sauce i have ever had, paired with texas pete's hot sauce and squeezed lemon, it will keep you coming back again and again.
fanastic experience and very reasonable. i paid $13.00 and gorged myself on my own man vs. food challenge just to finish a single tray.
forget everything else on the menu and order a tray! you will understand immediately.