There's nothing poor about Rocket to Venus' fried oyster po' boy. The crispy cornmeal-crusted fried oysters that squirt juice when you bite into them, covered with layers of pink prosciutto, and dabbed with Pernod-tinged sauce yield a taste that is rich indeed, and made all the richer when served by skinny boys in skinny jeans while the jukebox morphs from Amy Winehouse to Lawrence Welk in three minutes. It's otherworldly.

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