Shiver’s is an institution. It’s been around for over 60 years and is shaped like a log house with a chimney. There’s a window for takeout and a few benches outside for folks waiting to eat ribs. You’ll probably have to wait too if you come on a weekend. Not everything is a hit. The ribs are good, but they won’t make you grin like a raccoon eating peanut butter—for a reaction like that, get the corn souffle. And the burnt ends are more tender than your shoulders after a Swedish massage. But Shiver’s strength is its history, no-frills food, hospitality, and nostalgic simplicity. You’re here to eat messy food with your fingers off of metal camp plates next to kind strangers, and watch food from the kitchen shoot out of a literal hole in the wall.