Having passed it a million or so times over the past 25 years, the time was finally right to stop in. Being a bit of a sucker for Florida waterfront kitsch, I'm really not sure how I managed to resist it for so long. What could possibly look more inviting than this? Okay...don't answer that.
My drive-by crush on Crab Shack ended so abruptly that it made a sleepover with John Mayer seem like long-term relationship. Interior crustiness is something I can sometimes overlook, but combined with screaming babies, a plethora of dead animals nailed to the walls (turtle shells, fish, alligator noses, etc.,....WTF, is this a campaign to turn me into a vegan?) and a general "Pinellas Park" vibe...well, you lose me. Especially when your food kinda sucks, although I'll give a Redneck Gurl nod to the place for leaving their Christmas lights up all year.
Our fairly efficient and friendly server warned Underdog right off the bat that the Oyster Stew was nothing more than milk, butter and oysters (four, to be exact)...but, hope springing eternal, he ordered it anyway. What was presented was a thin, tasteless gruel that no amount of hot sauce or crackers could make special. His bad.
The Blue Crab Claws with Garlic Butter already had the shells removed from the meaty section which provided awesome instant gratification...but their dry, stringy texture detracted from the potential of this app and pretty much screamed "freezer burn".
The tiny steamed clams were presented at room temp and so laden with sand that I feared for my tooth enamel.
I found Crab Shack to be pretty much a deplorable dump overall. Visit at your own risk.