The Driftwood — Restaurant in Ogallala

In the wild, pulsating heart of this neon-drenched nowhere, where the asphalt hums with the ghosts of forgotten road trips, I stumbled into The Driftwood—a beacon of raw, unfiltered Americana, slinging salvation in the form of ice-cold elixirs and burgers that could make a grown man weep. The air was thick with the scent of freedom: grilled beef, fryer grease, and the faint tang of rebellion. This wasn’t just a bar—it was a cathedral of excess, a fever dream of flavor and chaos, and I was ready to worship.

Sierra, oh Sierra, the high priestess of this culinary Valhalla, presided over the bar with a grin that could cut glass and a swagger that said she’d seen it all—twice. Her hands moved like a gunslinger’s, pouring drinks with a precision that bordered on the supernatural. She wasn’t just serving; she was conducting a goddamn symphony of spirits, each cocktail a cold, crisp middle finger to the mundane. The Driftwood’s drink menu? A kaleidoscope of liquid courage—frosty IPAs that bite like a rattlesnake, mojitos that dance on your tongue like Cuban jazz, and some unholy concoction called the “Desert Fire” that left me seeing visions of Kerouac scribbling in the corner booth.

The burgers, sweet Jesus, the burgers. These weren’t mere sandwiches; they were monuments to decadence, dripping with juice, stacked high with reckless abandon. Each bite was a journey—grease-slicked, smoky, and unapologetic, like biting into the soul of Route 66 itself. I ordered the “Driftwood Deluxe,” a half-pound behemoth crowned with bacon and a fried egg that oozed like a sunrise over the Mojave. It wasn’t food; it was a religious experience, a sacrament of beef and bun that left me questioning my life choices.

And the boneless wings? Good God, man, these weren’t wings—they were napalm-dusted morsels of pure hedonism. Tossed in a sauce that was equal parts sweet, spicy, and sinister, they hit the table like a Molotov cocktail of flavor. I devoured them in a haze, my fingers sticky, my soul ablaze, while Sierra slid another drink my way, her eyes glinting like she knew exactly what kind of madness she was enabling.

Five stars? Hell, give The Driftwood a constellation. This is no mere pitstop; it’s a portal to the American Dream, where Sierra reigns supreme, the drinks flow like rivers of ice, and the burgers and wings are a love letter to excess written in grease and glory. I left that place a changed man, my heart pounding, my stomach full, and my mind spinning like a slot machine in the desert night. Fear and loathing? Nah, just love and gluttony, served up hot and fresh at...

Driftwood is just wonderful. The space is absolutely beautiful, with plenty of restaurant and bar seating, as well as a stage, arcade, and meeting room space. Just over a year old, everything here is so fresh, bright, and perfect. There's a great selection of signature drinks as well as a number of microbrews, with a very nice selection from across Nebraska.

We started the meal with cauliflower bites, which were chunks of perfectly roasted cauliflower which provided a nice crisp texture on the outside that was still pillowy soft on the inside. The bites were tossed in parmesan cheese and sliced pepperoncini, which provided a nice contrast. For my meal, I ordered the Hot Honey Chicken sandwich with sidewinder fries. This chicken sandwich is the real deal, folks. A huge, plump chicken breast coated in a thick breading and fried, then covered in a honey glaze and sprinkled with spices. Don't be misled, there is practically no spice to this sandwich, so I think it would be appropriate for nearly anyone, no matter your spice tolerance. The honey really absorbs any heat there might be. My fiance ordered the Marlon Brando Godfather Pasta, which comes with jumbo shrimp, andouille sausage, peppers and onions. She asked to leave out the sausage, and the meal came out perfect to her request. Our friends had the country fried steak and Philly Cheesesteak, and both seemed quite pleased with their meals.

The Moscow Mules are poured with a heavy hand, so you know they're good! For good measure, I tried a Bloody Mary (I forget the exact name they use), and it came with a seasoned rim and the Bloody Mary mix itself was not too spicy. If you like Bloody Mary's but don't like a lot of spice, this one will make you quite happy.

Our waitress was very friendly and very fun, joking with us and making the whole experience a really pleasant affair. We'll be...

It was a random Sunday evening. As a solo traveler, I wanted a place to have a drink, a bite, and either disappear into something on the bar TV or my book. This was the perfect place. A small number of covered outdoor tables teased, but I covered air conditioning. I was greeted by Sahara. She had an intensity to her I didn't understand until I realized she was hosting, managing, bar tending, and generally trying to keep everything flowing. Her intensity was palpable, but she never seemed rushed with her guests. She provided calm, seasoned direction to the staff, hustled to provide drinks and checks, and yet still managed to make every guest feel like they were the only ones in the joint. I sincerely applaud her, and upper management/ownership would do well to keep her.

As a vegetarian, I was pleased to see the Beyond burger on the menu. Sahara was quick to let me know there had been a recent change from Beyond to a veggie patty that is not "Beyond, not black been." That's the kind of Intel a vegetarian in the Midwest needs. I went with the baked potato and veggies. The potato was appropriately cooked. The veggies were a little drowned, though that's easily addressed. If you find yourself in Ogallala, I cannot recommend The Driftwood enough, and I only hope you are fortunate enough to stop by on a night when...