With a delectable selection of chophouse favorites from land, sea, and sky, Austin's Seafood and Steak gives premium proteins new homes on plates and palates. Each of Austin's certified Angus steaks—from the 8-ounce top sirloin ($12.99) to the 14-ounce cajun ribeye ($20.99)—is hand-cut daily by kitchen beefmasters, preserving freshness and appeasing the cravings of the restaurant's eager-to-help meat cleavers. Fish and fowl round out the menu, as tender scallops ($16.99) bring familiar comfort to tables of off-duty mermaids. The Mardi Gras chicken ($12.99) throws a tablecloth Carnival with a colorful assortment of peppers, onions, and sauces served in the shape of a smiling-jester float.
The Straw Hat's congenial owners, Charlene and Randa, curate a multihued microcosm of women's machine-washable threads. Tribal sleeveless T-shirts ($49) ward off heat and pesky cufflink salesmen by eschewing arm coverings entirely. Slip into the relaxed embrace of Not Your Daughter's capris in black, yellow, or white ($79), or caper through the shop's leg-liberating bouquet of dresses. A cornucopia of jewelry and duds by Brighton, Spanx, Pure Handknit, and a variety of other brands orbits around a lounge perched atop an ornate oriental rug. Personalized service allows patrons to opt for independent shopping jaunts or stylish support as trustworthy as Audrey Hepburn's rebounding game.
Ezell's Catfish Cabin quiets rumbling stomachs with lunch and dinner menus teeming with palate-pleasing catfish and a bundle of seafood specialties. Cast a net over regular orders of catfish fillets ($10.95), or round up a regular order of whole, Southern-style bone-in catfish ($11.95). Frog legs ($11.95) provide sustenance for more amphibious appetites, and fried oysters ($12.95), fantail shrimp ($11.95), and stuffed crabs ($10.95) keep mitts occupied from starting fights with highly combative cutlery.
Jeremy Douglas and Paul Burgess worked at a Fultondale sports bar in the spring of 2011 when vicious storms tore through the area and decimated it. Dead set on turning tragedy into opportunity, the two opened North Tavern to continue the traditions of the restaurant they lost.
Patrons sit at square wooden tables in North Tavern's airy dining room, with metallic walls and a high, loft-style ceiling that conforms to zoning regulations that date back to when giants ran the city. Live musicians take advantage of the eatery's booming acoustics as visitors grab drinks at the bar or dig into half-pound burgers with homemade chips, chicken alfredo, classic BLTs, and fried pickles.