Merr M.
Yelp
Oh. My. God.
I just had a religious experience at Daytona Beach's Crab Shack, and I'm not okay. I ordered the seafood boil, the claw chowder, and the garlic bread, and let me tell you--I nearly ascended right there at the table.
First, the seafood boil. It came out steaming, glistening like a well-oiled twunk at a pride parade, absolutely drenched in garlicky, buttery goodness. Every bite was an explosion of briny, spicy, melt-in-your-mouth ecstasy. The crab legs? Cracked open easier than a twink at Sunday brunch. The shrimp? So plump and juicy they should have their own OnlyFans.
Then came the claw chowder. Thick. Creamy. Loaded with chunks of fresh crab, swimming in a velvety, perfectly seasoned broth that felt like a warm hug from a bear daddy. I was making noises that should've gotten me banned from the restaurant.
And the garlic bread? Baby, that wasn't bread--it was a religious experience. Crispy on the outside, soft and buttery on the inside, with just the right amount of garlic to make me reconsider every bad decision I've ever made.
By the end, I was practically in post-food-coital bliss, slumped in my chair, contemplating my life choices and whether it was possible to marry a seafood boil. If you find yourself in Daytona and don't eat here, you're actively choosing sadness.
11/10, would shamelessly moan over this meal again.