The Parkway Restaurant

Shame on us for not trying Parkway sooner. We’ve walked by 100’s of times and finally gave it a try. We were not disappointed. Small but varied menu, great quality food, and prompt friendly service. We were never rushed during the entire meal. Looking forward to returning soon.

Like many other poor reviewers we have been coming here for many years. It was our go-to spot for a nice dinner out, some fine dining without getting dressed up. No more. The past 3 times we've come here in the last year, we've experienced poor service, fair food, and the prices have gotten stupid high. We don't mind paying more for quality, however, what we got was not quality. Our server was terrible for our party of 5. We said we were ready to order, and she said she'd be back. She came back 15 minutes later. She gave me incorrect advice about my $39 glass of wine, saying it was 6 ounces, when it was clearly 4 or less. My duck breast was more fat than meat, and the promised "sides" were nothing but swirls on the plate. Again, took forever to get the check, I had to ask twice. Server never came by after our entrees were dropped off to make sure all was fine with the order (it wasn't). Three strikes and you're out, Parkway, too bad, you used to be great!

The Parkway delivered the kind of dinner that turns a beach week into a tradition. We settled in and started with drinks: my mother’s crisp Rosé, my Pineapple Martini made with house-infused pineapple vodka (tropical, bright, not cloying), and my father—ever the simple one—content with an ice-cold Heineken.

Warm bread and butter arrived first, the kind that smells like a hug. Then a Tomato & Peach Caprese that vanished on contact: grill-kissed peaches, sun-sweet heirloom tomatoes, pillowy burrata, a balsamic shimmer, EVOO, and basil. My father’s clam chowder wasn’t the classic New England style—and all the better for it: silky, savory, and distinctly their own.

We went all in on a 55oz Bone-In Tomahawk, medium-rare. The crust crackled, the center blushed, and every slice was velvet. Grilled shrimp brought sweet brine and a whisper of char; green beans snapped with freshness; and the mashed potatoes were scandalously creamy. Two sauces—an herb-bright chimichurri and a glossy cabernet reduction—let us toggle between zing and depth like a perfect playlist.

One of the best meals we’ve had in Bethany Beach, full stop. Go hungry, bring people you love, and share the tomahawk. You’ll leave already planning your next visit.