The first thing I noticed was that there were two cops having lunch there. That's a good sign. Cops know what's up. The place is basically a beer bar that serves food (as opposed to an actual restaurant) and the decor/music/atmosphere is alt-hipster. Stuff is cooked behind the bar on a huge flat top with some fryers next to it. There's a vent hood, but these places never seem to turn it on so you leave reeking of burger and oil. The tatted up waitress yelled at us from across the room to "sit wherever the hell we wanted". Lots of beers on tap.
The menu was surprisingly extensive. As an appetizer I settled on the "Big Richard" burger. Heh. Not sure what a penis joke has to do with mac and cheese but whatever.
This was the burger. Big, but forgettable.
The fries are a different story. I ordered the Drunken, Bacon Bleu, and Gravy ones.
GIBBY: I'll have a disgusting amount of fries, please.
WAITRESS: Yo, like, each order of these fries is enough to feed the fattest of the fat.
GIBBY: If you need to see it, I have a notarized letter from my physician that states that I am to consume no less than 670 grams of carbohydrates per hour due to a systolic regeneration inhibitor dislocation of my aperatic function.
GIBBY: No. Just bring me the fries please.
The Bacon Bleu Fries. Very nice. Sriracha, big crumbles of cheese, and bacon.
They were exquisite.
The Gravy fries were okay, but kind of underwhelming after the greatness of the first ones.
Canadians are weird.
The Drunken fries were awesome too on accounta you can pretty much never go wrong with beer cheese.
The only problem is that the beer cheese always runs to the bottom of the stack and you have to smear the fries along the bottom of the basket to get more cheese on em. Why aren't the people at NASA working on a solution for this?
Overall, the DT is a must visit in the Daytona area. The only strike is that they had a crappy coin-op pool table in the back. I hate that.