If you're wondering whether The Ordinary in Charleston lives up to its national buzz, you're not alone. For anyone itching to know if the hype matches the reality—especially with seafood restaurants popping up everywhere—I've dug deep into critic reviews, industry chatter, and even a few local secrets. This article cuts past the glossy Instagram shots to deliver a nuanced look at The Ordinary’s critical reception, with stories from seasoned reviewers, real-life dining experiences, and the occasional behind-the-scenes mishap. Whether you're planning a trip or just love following America's restaurant scene, here's what you really need to know.
Let’s get this out of the way: The Ordinary is not a hole-in-the-wall oyster shack. Opened in 2012 by Chef Mike Lata and the team behind FIG, it quickly became a darling of Charleston’s food scene. The restaurant, set in a former 1920s bank, has a high-ceilinged, art deco vibe—so, yes, you feel a little fancy the minute you walk in.
From the jump, Bon Appétit named it one of America’s Best New Restaurants in 2013. National attention followed. But how does it hold up to scrutiny after over a decade?
Critics, especially those who know their seafood, have mostly sung The Ordinary’s praises, but not without a few caveats. Here’s what stands out:
Let’s start with the good stuff. The New York Times called The Ordinary “a temple to Southern seafood” and praised its raw bar as “the city’s finest.” Their reviewer highlighted the rotating oyster selection and “meticulous” fish crudos. When I visited last spring, the oyster sampler was a revelation—briny, sweet, and served with just enough mignonette to make you feel like a connoisseur.
Southern Living, in their 2022 round-up (source), said the smoked oysters “might be the best bite in Charleston.” I’ll admit, I totally misjudged the shellfish tower at my first visit and ordered it for two—bad move, it could’ve fed four, and I felt a little sheepish trying to finish it.
Service has generally been described as “professional but unshowy.” Eater’s local round-up notes that staff are knowledgeable about the seafood, though a few diners (myself included, on a crowded weekend) have remarked that things can get a bit rushed at peak times. The room’s high ceilings mean the noise level ramps up fast—don’t come expecting an intimate tête-à-tête at 7pm on a Saturday.
This is where opinions start to diverge. The Ordinary isn’t cheap. Critics acknowledge the premium is for quality and sourcing—think local snapper, Carolina gold rice, and pristine shellfish—but some diners (see the TripAdvisor reviews here) say the small plates can add up fast. In my experience, a full meal with drinks for two can easily top $150.
But as Charleston City Paper points out, “if you want the best seafood in town, you pay for it.” The vibe is celebratory, and most critics recommend it for special occasions or seafood lovers looking to splurge.
During my most recent dinner, I made the rookie mistake of not reserving ahead—walk-in tables are rare, and the bar fills up by 6pm. I nabbed a seat at the window, which turned out to be prime for people-watching. The menu changes often, but the razor clam ceviche and the oyster sliders (a longtime favorite) were standouts. I once saw someone try to eat an oyster slider in one bite and nearly lose the whole thing to the floor—not my proudest moment, but it’s harder than it looks.
The general consensus on social media—Reddit threads like this one—echoes my own: the food is consistently excellent, but the space can get loud and the price is a splurge. Pro tip: go off-peak for a more relaxed vibe.
A quick chat with a former line cook (friend of a friend, so take this as anecdotal) revealed that the kitchen’s focus is on “letting the ingredients shine.” No overwrought sauces, just fresh seafood done right.
To put The Ordinary in context, it’s worth noting how its sourcing and menu philosophy align with standards from organizations like the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch. Chef Mike Lata has spoken publicly about sustainable sourcing—see his NPR interview—emphasizing the importance of local fisheries. That’s a point of pride for critics and a differentiator from more generic seafood spots.
From a regulatory standpoint, U.S. seafood traceability standards are governed by the FDA’s HACCP regulations, which The Ordinary adheres to. In comparison, international standards (like those from the WTO Sanitary and Phytosanitary Agreement) emphasize similar food safety and traceability. It’s clear from the menu and staff knowledge that these protocols are taken seriously.
| Country/Region | Standard Name | Legal Basis | Enforcement Agency |
|---|---|---|---|
| United States | Seafood HACCP | 21 CFR Part 123 | FDA |
| European Union | EU Hygiene Regulation (EC) No 852/2004 | EC 852/2004 | European Food Safety Authority (EFSA) |
| Global | WTO SPS Agreement | SPS Agreement | WTO, national agencies |
Let’s say a Charleston seafood restaurant like The Ordinary wants to import a rare European shellfish. Here’s where things get tricky: the FDA’s rules might be stricter (or just different) from the EU’s, and traceability paperwork is a must. If the shellfish’s country of origin can’t provide documentation that matches both the U.S. HACCP and EU hygiene standards, the shipment gets rejected. I’ve heard Chef Lata joke in an interview that “half my job is chasing paperwork.” International trade friction isn’t just theoretical—it changes what ends up on your plate.
Seafood industry consultant Jane McAdams explained to me, “For high-end places like The Ordinary, provenance isn’t a marketing ploy—it’s a legal necessity.” She pointed to FDA warning letters publicly posted here as proof that even big names can get tripped up by import rules.
To sum up, The Ordinary has earned its spot as one of Charleston’s most respected restaurants, especially for seafood lovers willing to splurge. Critics almost universally praise its food quality, sustainable sourcing, and commitment to freshness. The main knocks are on the price (it’s a splurge) and the sometimes raucous atmosphere. If you value meticulous sourcing and don’t mind a bit of noise—or want to impress an out-of-town guest—it’s a safe bet.
If you’re still on the fence, my advice is to go during a weekday or off-peak hour, and don’t be afraid to ask your server about the day’s best catch. For the true seafood nerds, keep an eye on sourcing notes—they’re not just marketing, but a reflection of international trade realities and regulatory hurdles.
And if you’ve ever fumbled a slippery oyster slider, you’re not alone. That’s just part of the charm.