The Sansom Street Oyster House is a place that Phillytown would not normally review since it is primarily an eating establishment. But when there is a dirty job to be done and no one else dare's to do, they send in the Nutty Irishman. 

As mentioned, the Oyster House is more of a seafood restaurant (go figure with a name like "The Sansom Street Oyster House") than a bar, but as you enter the establishment you are greeted by a large bar where you can grab a meal or just have refreshing drinks. We were led past the bar to the two rooms that made up the restaurant area by a rather frumpy hostess.

The eating area was nicely decorated in a late nineteenth century style--very appealing; but the tables were too close together as the establishment tried to squeeze in as many customers as they could. I would like to check it against its lawful capacity regulation. It's not that I'm a law nut -- I believe that "laws were meant to be broken."; but in this case, the opposite prevails only because it was just plain annoying to be sitting so close to your neighbors that you could smell their lemon tea on their breath.

When we got our menus, the first thing that I looked for was the beer list. They had all American brews with such good beers as Stoudts and Victory Hops Devil represented. Now, when it came to the drink, the whole puritanical shadow of our society came crashing down in that my companions (who happened to be consultants for my company) would not partake of the beverage of the gods:

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."

 -Benjamin Franklin-

because of the way our society looks down on the consumption of alcohol during a 9-to-5 workday. Screw that! My fellow wage-slave co-worker and I partook in the libations while the consultants looked on in envy. If they want to deny themselves, that's fine with me. It was more amusing when their account manager arrived and started having a beer with us--he had the privilege of drinking with us before. Hopefully they’ll be a more relaxed next time we go out. Even though we work for a big stuffy fortune 50 company, my fellow wage-slave and I are the exceptions not the rule. Screw corporate America! Just be human and enjoy your time on this Earth! (You can tell I'm going places.)

Now that the important ordering was out of the way, it was time to see what fine delicacies I could provide for my palette.  The difficultly here is that I do not like fish, oysters, crabs, lobsters or anything that lives in water (unless I'm quite drunk, then I could eat fish and chips) so I was expecting a limited list. Add on that note, I do not eat red meat, then we can scratch the token burger that all seafood places have.  So that just leaves me with a chicken or pasta dish.  Salad you say? Nope, sorry there, I am not a rabbit.

- As reviewed by The Nutty Irishman

His other reviews include: Maggie O'Neal's, Barnaby's, Shampoo, Rio, The Great American Pub, The Boat House & Valley Forge Brewing Company.