Caught, not shipped
Our fishmonger meets the boats at the dock most mornings. If it isn't fresh and local, it doesn't make the board — simple as that.
Hand-shucked oysters, wood-grilled local catch and stiff, honest cocktails — served the way Uncle Mick always swore by: generously, and with the screen door open to the breeze.
Uncle Mick's started the way the best places do — with a man, a dock, and more fish than one family could eat. In 1998, Michael "Mick" Donnelly hung a hand-painted sign on a little spot in Palm Beach Gardens and started cooking whatever the boats brought in that morning.
Twenty-five years later, we're still doing exactly that. Our snapper is wild and local, our oysters are shucked to order at the raw bar, and the key lime pie is Aunt Rosa's recipe — tart enough to make you sit up straight. No frozen shortcuts, no pretension. Just real Florida food and a porch worth lingering on.
— The Donnelly FamilyOwners & in-the-kitchen, most nights
Read our full storyWe do a handful of things, and we do them with care — from the boat to your table, and the welcome in between.
Our fishmonger meets the boats at the dock most mornings. If it isn't fresh and local, it doesn't make the board — simple as that.
Gulf and East Coast oysters, peel-and-eat shrimp, stone crab in season — all shucked and stacked on ice right in front of you.
Oak and citrus wood, an open flame, and a pit master who's been with us 15 years. You can taste the smoke in every plate.
Frozen rum runners, painkillers, and a bourbon list Mick would approve of. Happy hour on the patio, every day until six.
Ceiling fans, string lights, and a breeze off the lake. Our patio is the best seat in the Gardens for a slow Florida evening.
Conch fritters dropped to order, biscuits from scratch, pie baked daily. Nothing arrives frozen in a bag — and you can tell.
The hogfish was the best piece of fish I've had in Florida, full stop. You can tell it came off a boat that morning. We drove up from Boca and we'll be back next weekend.
We've celebrated three anniversaries on that patio. The staff remembers our names, the rum runners are dangerous, and the key lime pie ruined every other pie for us. This is our place.
Booked the back room for my dad's 70th — 30 people, raw bar, the whole thing. Mick himself came out to say hello. Felt like eating at a friend's house, if your friend happened to be a phenomenal chef.
Tonight's catch is already on ice and the grill is hot. Book a table, gather your people, and let us feed you the way Uncle Mick would have.