The bar
Below the pier, the night gets better
Pierhouse sits where the boards end and the water begins. Neon on one side, the Atlantic on the other, and a zinc counter of ice and shells in between.
We shuck what the boats bring in the same day. No reservations, no hurry, no last call before midnight.
The dozen
Twelve oysters, three sauces, one squeeze of lemon. Start here.
Neon hour
Five to seven. Spritzes glow, shells go for a dollar.
The midnight plate
Whatever is left, grilled with butter and pepper. Ask.