Scarlett O'Hara's

While walking around St Augustine to see the Night of Lights, we found this cool bar with amazing atmosphere. The inside is old world wood with beautiful trim and stained glass. We started with drinks and I enjoyed the Old Fashioned and a draft. We followed that with Fish Fingers and a creamy tartar sauce perfectly fried and tender. Also enjoyed the Onion Rings. Again very tasty. I would recommend the full menu even though we left early for dinner down the street. The bartender was a very friendly and nice person. Enjoy.

Wow, what a cool place! Open late with a lot of different types of drinks. I love the dark wood and rustic vibe. The staff was very friendly and easy to talk to. We had the bbq pulled pork sliders and the chicken nachos, both were great. They have a bunch of different sitting areas and a few different bars. Highly recommend!

The family and I went here when we went to see night of lights. After walking around the shops for a couple of hours we got hungry and stumbled across this little gem. The food was good and the service was also good, exactly what I expected which is a compliment. The place itself was really a pretty cool experience and something I'd love to do again. If you're there and looking for a good meal at a good price I would definitely recommend this place, at least give it a look, I doubt you'll regret it.

Well, all good thing's come to an end, or do they ? Scarlett O'Haras is now Scarletts, fantastic burgers, hot dogs, and chicken fingers.. Our meals were delicious and one of the best burgers I have had in a long time. Service was spot on great job 👏

Monument to Decay and Extortion To enter Scarlett's is not merely to seek sustenance; it is to confront the low-water mark of human endeavor, a grotesque parody of the innkeeper’s sacred contract. From the entry stairs, one is greeted not by the inviting warmth of the hearth, but by a thick, institutional miasma - a smell of boiled despair and floor cleaner failing in its Sisyphean task. The exterior promises disuse, with paint peeling away like flaking skin, but the interior delivers a deeper conviction: here, filth is not an accident but a proud, deeply layered patina of neglect, clinging stubbornly to the cheap railings and the gummy surface of the tables. The food itself is a profound, if predictable, culinary betrayal. It is a tragedy of logistics, not passion. One eats what has b