I was thinking about hitting up Offshore's Nextdoor for a late lunch, so I perused its menu online. As soon as I came across "nap 30" on their menu, I knew I had to check the place out. Unfamiliar with the term? I'll school you: "What time is it after I eat all this fried food?" "It's nap 30." I love nap 30. I also love drunk-oh-seven.
When you're driving up to the place, it looks big, but inside there are only about 10 tables, and it's nice and cozy. Well, "nice and cozy" if you're the kind of person who likes to snuggle up to a bunch of big dudes while they test the weight limits of those poor, tiny, spinny bar seats.
I ordered the fried crab cake po-boy, which comes with tomato, onion, lettuce, jalapeño, tartar and a side of hush puppies for $7.95. Since I had eaten like an Olsen twin earlier in the day (minus the cocaine binge) and had some extra money burning a hole in my pocket, I also got some fried asparagus and an off-the-menu order of what my server called "these little fried corn things we just made."
As I downed the beyond-delicious fried asparagus and the should-totally-be-served-at-the-State-Fair-if-it-isn't-already fried corn, dunking them in habanero ranch, the Food Pyramid walked up to me and started talking mad shit:
Food Pyramid: So, great job with the eating healthy yet again, Alice.
Me: Whatever. These are veggies. [shoots left middle finger at Food Pyramid, complete with "perw" gun sound effect]
Food Pyramid: Asparagus dipped in batter and fried does not count as good for you.
Me: You're fat and nobody even believes in you anymore.
The fried crab cake po-boy (not greasy, great jalapeño tartar sauce with just a little kick to it) and the hush puppies were so good. Somehow the fry batter was light and didn't make me feel like my entire insides were made of grease. Clearly, my insides are made entirely of grease, but I don't like it when they feel that way, ya know?
