The silver dollar bar Louisville ky

There was a chill in the air and I was all alone. Good reasons to rationalize vegetating in front of the tv. But on Tuesday night I couldn't fight the urge any longer to go try a restaurant with quite the unique concept. The neon lights beckon guests in with the "whiskey by the drink" moniker and holy Texas smoke does it work. Through the door I was greeted by a friendly hostess and made my way to the long bar and grabbed a cushioned stool. The prompt service provided me with an iceless water in a plastic red cup and a tequila margarita. Now the tequila list is nearly as extensive as the whiskey list, but both lists are distinguished yet perfect fits for the honky tonk atmosphere. The fervor with which the Plaid clad bartender shook my drink was as much spectacle as it was a testament to the aim of pleasing shared by all the staff I encountered.

I needed a little drinking base so I opted for the cornmeal fried oysters with lemon alioli. The very plump bivalves were sturdy enough to cut in half with my fork. As I was longing for a television to catch some of the UL game a burly brute seated himself to my right and ordered a shiner bock. As he talked to the couple on his right I sent a few texts and did a little research on the net. After a few minutes he turned to me and said " Sumthin bout texas just makes people a little wild, but in a good way". His pure and simple logic seemed like as good of a slogan for this joint as the whiskey by the drink bit. As we conversed about Cold smoked oysters and organic farming (as his business was with the fresh start garden center) I could tell he had a pretty firm grip on the Louisville dining scene and as he ordered the flank steak I was glad that I had done the same. The default temperature of medium rare seemed to coincide perfectly with the mindset of the establishment. He opted for the $4 cole slaw side and I chose the $4 hash browns per the recommendation of the bar keep. The skirt steak was extremely tender for that cut and the hash browns were a glorious mix of crunch and gooey potato bliss in the warm center. Doing what any Kentucky foodie would do to another foodie I asked him of he wanted to try my hash browns. With a very poor attempt to sound uninterested he corrected himself and dug his fork into the side plate between us. In a sort of contagious friendliness the woman to his right also thought the hash browns were worth tasting. The plate had at this point become fair game and the center seat graciously passed a few bites to the lady with his bare hands. Now to some this behavior might raise an eyebrow but I took it all in stride as someone mentioned something about a food orgy. The revelry continued with potato chips being picked off of plates in a sort of free for all-we were immediate family. New heights in trust and quick befriending we're reached as I inquired about a species of pepper after I had just taken a bite of. He said, let me see that, so I handed it to him. He took a bite, said it's a poblano, and handed it back. The mood and roadhouse atmosphere seemed to encourage the behavior that we were displaying. Whether it was the loud music shielding us or the fact that everyone seemed to be trying their hardest to have as much fun as possible we'll never know. But the spot down on Frankfort Avenue definetely has a undeniable draw. If you go don't expect a quiet sit down dinner. There are plenty of other places for that. Go here to get wild, in a good way! ***

AE