A No-Go At Flo's

My life has taken a horridly un-blogworthy turn of late, so I have resorted to complaining about a restaurant. I am very sorry, dear readers. You deserve better, and I will try to deliver soon. This will need to do for now.

I have been in the lovely, low-key, Lowcountry town of Pawleys Island (a Gavrich family vacation spot for the last eight years or so) for a few days now, playing golf, experiencing potent thunderstorms, and eating a lot (the standard Gavrich summer, really). Two nights ago, my parents and I decided to have dinner at a Cajun-inspired eatery in nearby Murrells Inlet (renowned for its seafood) called Flo's Place. They tout their blackening seasoning as "famous," which excited me, since I am a fan of the taste of blackened things, especially blackened shrimp. Just dump on the blackening spices, put 'em in the pan and toss 'em together. Simple as that. "BAM!", Emeril might say to such a proposition. To my curiosity, there was no specific "blackened shrimp" entrée on the menu at Flo's. However, there was a "blackened fish" entrée, however. No matter, I thought to myself, they'll have no problem doing some blackened shrimp. After all, this is a popular restaurant, so they obviously please their customers.

Well, dear readers, it turned out that blackened shrimp was too much to ask for the folks at Flo's. I suppose that a restaurant whose entrées are in the $15-30 range should not be expected to have much room for flexibility anymore. For shame.

I was forced to order a combination platter of grilled shrimp, scallops, and oysters over rice. It was stupendously disappointing, sad to say. The shrimp were small, the scallops tasted less-than-fresh, and the oysters looked like the testicles of a steroids-abuser. I know that shellfish isn't in season now, but it could have and should have been much, much better. Oh well; won't be going back there anytime soon.

PS: The nametag of the cashier who scanned my parents' groceries tonight read, "Lexus."

Good night, blogosphere.