Our brother and sister-in-law, Rick and Karen, took us to the most unusual and fun place last night. I’ve not seen anything quite like Clark’s, and I doubt many tourists find it, but it has plenty of customers. We arrived around 5 p.m. and were immediately seated (well, except for me, because I wouldn’t sit down until I explored the place) but there were people waiting to be served by 6:30 or so.
Karen drove us there, and other than gazing at the St. John’s River as we crossed Buckman Bridge, I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the route. The address is 12903 Hood Landing Road, Mandarin, Florida. We went into a residential neighborhood and down a road toward a swampy river bottom. On first view, across a huge parking lot, it appeared to be a rather ordinary looking building. But that changed quickly as we walked closer.
Live alligators and huge turtles are the alternate view if one isn’t mesmerized by the driftwood sea life pieces.
Once you enter the restaurant you’re immediately treated to a huge aquarium holding live fish, turtles, and yes, a live alligator. The rattlesnake seems to be the art of a great taxidermist, thank goodness.
Yep, it’s alive, and inside the quirky restaurant.
Some thought the five-foot alligator waiting in the aquarium to greet (or eat?) diners might be another taxidermist piece. I didn’t think so, especially when the thing’s eyes followed me as I walked by toward the ladies’ room. When we turned to go back to our table, he had moved into the water. Probably, he takes care of complaining snowbirds and unruly children in an unseen part of the aquarium. Just kidding, of course. But if I ran the place and it got too rowdy over by the bars, I’d threaten to free the gator and run them all off into the brackish water. I betcha’ any drunk who fell in would make a quick exit.
View from our table of the St. Johns River close to where it flows into the Atlantic Ocean.
The whole place has an atmosphere that is difficult to describe, so I’m using a lot of photos although even those cannot really convey the feel of the place. There must be hundreds of stuffed and realistically posed animals. I’m not usually much of a fan of dead animals, but one could show a child a lot of species in this place. Some are so realistic they are a bit scary – especially the big cats ready to spring from limbs above one’s head as one is seated at the dinner table!
This driftwood chair is a focal point upon entering..
It’s a jungle in there. Or, a zoo…no, not a zoo because there are no cages. Given the live alligator in the aquarium and the live alligators outside and beneath us, I kept my guard up for any other quite alive critters that might have mixed in with the stuffed ones. A large part of the restaurant is outside, wide open to the rest of the restaurant, and over the water, I bet there have been incidents. Snakes come to mind, as they aren’t restricted to the water. Dang, I always think about snakes! And, in fact, there is snake on the menu. And gator tail, like it is all over Florida.
Big cats rest on real limbs, big horn sheep, antelope, deer and many other animals are everywhere! I don’t know if I’m more sad that they are dead or grateful they aren’t alive. If they were alive…we’d be on their menu!
The menu is huge and an item of interest in itself. We found seafood gumbo offered, as well as the snake and gator. All the usual seafood offerings were available – crab, mahi-mahi, shrimp, lobster, flounder, oysters, salmon, etc.,- but there were also other even more interesting and, uh, some would say unsavory items, like mountain oysters (identified on the menu as Bison Testicles). Hey, and they had catfish – although down here they often serve it whole and I’m not crazy about whole fish..
For folks like me, there were many vegetarian options, as well as chicken and beef, and believe it or not, burgers and fries or French dip sandwiches. I’m not a vegetarian, but I’m not a huge seafood fan, either.
Interesting features included an antique cash register, photos of all the dishes on the menu on a wall leading to the dining room, cool bars both inside a and outside, and I swear, the faint smell of monkeys. I wanted to ask if they were sure the plethora of monkeys, baboons, chimps, lemurs, etc., were all house trained. Walking around the place meant walking under some realistic looking monkey butts, too, and resisting the urge to hurry!
The food? I thought it was good, but I didn’t have seafood. I had the French dip mozzarella smothered sandwich that looked more like a philly and was delicious. Fried onion rings served as an appetizer were scrumptious, and our grandson, Ethan, thought his Mahi-Mahi was even better than that served here at the legendary Whitey’s Fish Camp where we are parked. Karen and Rick and their children, Mike and Tina, didn’t think the food was as delicious as the last time they’d visited. But we had no complaints. Out of that huge – I mean giganticornomous menu, I’m sure just about anyone could find something to like, and if not, that picky person doesn’t belong in a place like this in the first place.
The place is diverse, and includes tattooed young folks looking for a party, biker-types, gussied up snowbirds, locals just off work and still in business attire, whole families and singles who look like they live on the river and have all their lives. Somewhere in the mix might be the artists who did some of the amazing driftwood sculpturing and amazing décor.
I’d love to interview the people that created and run Clark’s and learn how it came to be. There must be many thousands invested in taxidermy alone, not to mention a huge aquarium, a huge kitchen, a basically floating eatery subject to incoming tides and floods, etc.
Interesting place. I highly recommend a visit. It’s as much an attraction as a restaurant. It’s highly subjective whether one finds it tacky, beautiful or something else, but it’s different. Like the great line in Alice’s Restaurant, you can get (most) anything you want at Clark’s Restaurant in Mandarin, Florida – down on the riverbank.
Karen and I, looking beautiful, of course….well, Karen is!
Carol Burt 
