HOURS: Tues-Sat (closed Sunday) from 5-6:30pm; 10-11pm parlor only.
PRICES: Sparkling wine, cocktail of the day $6; all other cocktails $1 off; house red/white wine $5; beer $3.50. HH food items $1-$6; other snacks and small plates $2 off.

Frank’s Oyster House and Champagne Bar is a highly specific name for a restaurant. Don’t let that dissuade you from meeting your raw-oyster eschewing friends here for happy hour. For in addition to oysters, this HH menu offers steak sliders on housemade rolls that slap the tongue with an assertive hit of horseradish (three for $5), compulsively crunchable bacon-chive popcorn ($2), fried Quinault razor clams ($6), and a salami plate served alongside veggies pickled on the premises ($5).

As a person who eats a lot of sliders, I can tell you these are about as good as they get. The popcorn is well-seasoned and generously portioned, and who in their right might would argue with Salumi salami and pickled vegetables washed down with a whiskey cocktail on a weekday evening? In fact, in my experience the only thing to steer clear of on this menu are the truffle skins—potato skins blanketed too heavily in fontina then doused with way too much truffle oil. They smell great, but they are exactly the sort of palate buster to avoid after experiencing the eye-widening, joy-inducing flavor dance of fresh oysters sprinkled with a little mignonette and followed up with a sip of dry champagne.

In fact, even if the kitchen had employed a lighter hand with that truffle oil I probably wouldn’t order potato skins again at Frank’s. I might not even order those tasty little sliders. Because unless lunch has been skipped or HH must double as dinner on this particular day, what’s the point of eating workaday happy hour fare—even such finely wrought workaday happy hour fare as this—when there are Kusshis in the kitchen?

Frank’s serves up three to four types of oyster each day at HH, they are $1.50 each. Order them alongside the house champagne—currently a French brut, $6 a glass and born to wash down those sweet, succulent, slippery little somethings. All hail the happy hour oyster: joy for the palate, cure for workday woes.

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