Nobody drives to a landlocked state expecting the seafood to floor them. That is the first thing this place gets wrong about itself, and the first thing it gladly proves you wrong about.
Sure, Kentucky earns its name on bourbon and racehorses. But somewhere between Louisville’s riverfront tables and Paducah’s Gulf-inspired kitchens, the platters started arriving big enough to silence a whole table.
Shrimp baskets piled past the rim. Oysters cold and bright on the half shell…