Have I introduced you to Mz. Skeptical? No? Well, when Mz. Skeptical hears that oysters are from Apalachicola—and when she isn’t actually in that corner of the Florida panhandle—she isn’t 100% convinced that she won’t be given something else, say, an oyster from another area of the panhandle or even oysters from Texas of Louisiana. On a recent drive through Georgia, she encountered some bivalves that she hoped were the real thing.
Thanks to a tip from friends Lee and Ray Elman, my driving companion, Sterling Mulbry, and me detoured to Skippers’ Fish Camp Oyster Bar and Grill in Darien, Georgia. Located a short drive off I-95, where we were journeying from South Florida to Beantown, this tiny town touts itself as the “second oldest planned city” in the state (founded 1736). It was easy to find the restaurant on the banks of the Darien River with a view of marshes, shrimp boats, and a waterfront park.
Located on the site of a former lumber mill from the 1800’s (its bar and table tops are made from 19th-century wood) and after that a fish camp, the place has two distinct venues, both serving the same menu but with completely different vibes. The main restaurant—aka grill—is the formal dining side (think: where you might take mom) however it’s comfortable-casual and not at all stuffy. (“You have to at least wear flip flops,” says one of the owners.) Across a wide patio with circular pond where gar and turtles swim with decoy ducks, we found the Oyster Bar, a dark and get-down funky feeling space with an outdoor deck and a “bathing suits optional” dress code. We chose to dine out on the deck.
Though the place serves all manner of fresh-caught seafood, shrimp from local boats, as well as barbeque ribs and steaks—we were there for some oysters. They serve them raw, steamed, fried, and baked in four varieties including Casino and Rockefeller, the latter made—surprisingly, with a Southern twist of collards in place of spinach.
But as close readers of this blog know: I prefer my oysters nekkid…aka raw with maybe a tiny squirt of lemon and—when I’m feeling madcap—an even tinier drop of Tabasco. We ordered a half dozen to start ($7.99) and were told they were Apalachicolas. At first Mz. Skeptical was—ahem—skeptical. However—Oh happy day!—our half-dozen bivalves were so crisp and salty and sweet and full of flavor, all doubts about where they were harvested slipped away. (Curiously, they were served in a salad bowl, with no bed of ice. Eat 'em quick!)
Alas, Darien was not where we planned to spend the night, so we had to rouse ourselves from our oyster delirium and get back on the road for a few more hours. Maybe next time we’ll stay at the nearby Darien Waterfront Inn, and eat oysters, oysters, oysters till we close the place down. One can dream.
Skippers’ Fish Camp Oyster Bar and Grill, 85 Screven St., Darien, Georgia, 912-437-FISH
Skippers’ Fish Camp Oyster Bar and Grill, 85 Screven St., Darien, Georgia, 912-437-FISH
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