Gulley’s Seafood & Grill sits on Restaurant Row along Kings Highway, and the man who runs the kitchen has been doing this long enough that he doesn’t really explain himself anymore.
I first heard about Paul Grimaldi from my neighbor, who’s lived in Myrtle Beach since the early nineties and treats a mention of Gulley’s the same way some people talk about a family doctor — with a kind of quiet, confident loyalty. She told me to go on a Tuesday, before the summer crowd thickens, and to sit at the counter if I could. So I did.
Paul came out to the counter for maybe four minutes between lunch and dinner prep, apron still on, hands smelling like lemon and fryer oil. He’s a compact, direct man who grew up in Conway and got into seafood cooking because his uncle ran a fish house and needed help on weekends. That was 1993. He talked about flounder the way someone else might talk about a good painting — with real opinion. “Most people batter it too thick,” he said. “You lose the fish.” Then he went back to the kitchen.
He’s right, by the way. The fried flounder at Gulley’s is light in a way that’s actually hard to achieve. The cornmeal crust has some crunch without being aggressive, and you can taste the fish underneath — clean, sweet, not muddy. It comes with two sides; get the coleslaw and the lima beans. The slaw is vinegar-forward and cut fine, the limas are cooked soft with a little bit of fatback flavor, the kind of thing that feels increasingly rare even at places that claim to do Lowcountry cooking.
The dining room is nothing special to look at — booths with vinyl seats, a few nautical prints on the wall, lighting that prioritizes function over mood. On a busy Friday night the noise level can get significant. But nobody comes here for the décor. They come because the seafood platter — flounder, shrimp, and a crab cake — runs about $24 and is genuinely better than platters I’ve paid $40 for at places with better lighting and a waterfront view.
The shrimp are local when Paul can get them, and he’s upfront about when he can’t. “I’ll tell you if it’s not local,” he said when I asked. “I’m not gonna lie to you about that.” I appreciated it. The crab cake leans more crab than filler, seasoned conservatively, which is the right call.
A longtime regular named Debbie, who was sitting two stools down from me, told me she’s been coming since her kids were small. Her youngest just turned 27. She orders the same thing every time: the flounder sandwich on white bread with extra tartar and a sweet tea. “I’ve tried to branch out,” she said, laughing. “I always come back to it.”
Gulley’s doesn’t take reservations. It opens at eleven and closes when the kitchen’s done, which on slow nights can be before nine. Plan around that. Parking is off the lot behind the building and usually fine except on peak summer weekends. Cash is preferred but cards work. The lunch portions are generous enough that you might not need dinner.
If you’re in Myrtle Beach and you want to eat seafood cooked by someone who genuinely cares about getting it right — not performing caring about it, but actually caring — Paul Grimaldi is the person you’re looking for.
