“I’m just going to sit here and watch your cholesterol go up,” said my lunch companion, as I considered what I was about to do to myself.

It had all started innocently enough. Back in April a new place called JJ’s Seafood & Chicken opened up out in Tillmans Corner, and it created a certain buzz. People were hearing good things from other people. JJ’s seemed worthy of investigation.

Follow Rangeline Road across U.S. 90 and it becomes Nevius Road, and shortly after that you’ll see JJ’s on the west side of the road. What you might not see is an open parking spot. We based our plans on the notion that the lunch rush would be negligible on a Monday, but we had to make several passes before departing diners left an opening behind.

From the outside, JJ’s has the look of a strip-mall place that’s been successful enough to expand into three units. Inside, you find one big dining room in view of a semi-open kitchen.

As you’d expect, fried chicken and fried seafood are the mainstays. They’re not the whole story, though. The menu offers wings, salads, several grilled options (shrimp, chicken, catfish, pork chops) and “Mama Pat’s” gumbo, in addition to various specials.

This diner walked in with the seemingly ironclad assumption that he was about to tear up some fried shrimp. But then he saw that fried chicken livers (and gizzards) were on the menu. That changed his plans. For those who don’t know, chicken livers are arguably the perfect food: You can use them to catch catfish, and if the fish aren’t biting that morning, you can just go home and fry up your leftover bait for lunch.

The labeling was a little bit of a puzzle. A “just livers or gizzards dinner” is $9.99 and comes with two sides. The “all you care to eat” option is $10.99. A mere buck seems like an awfully thin sliver of difference between “all you should eat” and “are we really going to do this.” Fortunately there was a third option that made the selection easy: Livers or gizzards served over a bed of rice and topped with gravy and onions, with one side, also for $9.99.

It was everything you’d hope: A guilty pleasure, served atop a bed of carbs, drenched in brown gravy. The fried chicken livers abounded in the distinctive flavor any liver fan would hope for or any liver-phobe would fear.

After dithering for a minute over his love for fried yard bird, my companion chose the fried shrimp, and went large with it. (They give you the option of a regular shrimp platter for $16.99 or a larger version for $18.99. Thus ends the debate over portion sizes.)

Sides are a world unto themselves at JJ’s. Selections include green beans, baked beans, lima beans, red beans and rice, turnip greens, black eyed peas, rice and gravy and the list goes on and one. Upon learning that he’d get a few fries no matter what, my companion chose turnip greens and mac and cheese.

The shrimp were, as they should be, the main attraction: Fat, fresh and piping hot they were, fairly overflowing the platter. My friend said they tasted like he had fried them himself on the back porch, only without all the muss and fuss. I stole one and can attest that it was among the best I’ve had in recent memory.

The green were good, my companion said, but it was the macaroni and cheese that he singled out for praise. It was packed with melty, homespun, cheesy goodness, he raved, and topped with an extra layer of cheese that formed the crust you can only get when it is homemade.

Later, after an extended period of digestion and recovery, I returned to get the story on JJ’s from the lady who seemed to be running things, Jane Pierce. It turns out the secret ingredient might be a dash of insanity.

As Pierce tells it, she was minding her own business after a 25-year career with the state, during which she did nothing that had anything to do with restaurants. Her nephew Luke Daves, a veteran restaurant manager, persuaded her to partner up in opening a place.

“He talked me into doing this, is what he did,” she said. “But I must have been a little crazy, too.”

Now Pierce, who’ll turn 72 in July, is on the job six days a week as bookkeeper, cashier, and whatever else needs doing, other than cooking. It seems to suit her.

“You have to be ready to put in a lot of hours. When you close, you don’t get to shut the doors and turn out the lights,” she said. “We break down the restaurant every night, we mop and clean every night.”

“I think it keeps me going,” she said.

“People love our fried catfish and fried flounder,” she said. “But we sell bookoodles of shrimp po’boys and hamburgers.” Insider tip: She said her personal favorites include the broccoli-rice casserole, and the pot roast that JJ’s serves on Tuesdays.

The pot roast will have to wait for another visit, but in the meantime I can vouch for the fried bread pudding. It might not be exactly what you expect: It’s not breaded. What you get is a big slab of very hearty bread pudding that’s been baked in the usual manner, then flash-heated in the fryer before it hits the plate. The quick dip magically leaves it piping hot but not soaked in oil. It’s a marvel.

That’s a good an example as any of the JJ’s approach. They don’t do anything fancy, Pierce said, but they do things right.

Pierce said she just wants folks to understand that JJ’s takes a little care.

“We just do our best to serve everybody,” she said. “I know sometimes the wait is a little long. They have to realize this is not a fast-food restaurant. They just need to be a little patient with us.”

For the record, I found the wait times to be quite reasonable, especially considering what you get. And if you’re man enough to pay the extra dollar for all-you-can eat chicken livers, my hat is off to you.

JJ’s Seafood & Chicken is at 5681 Nevius Road in Mobile. It’s open 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. Monday-Thursday, 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Friday-Saturday. Call 251-602-4960 or visit jjsseafoodchicken.com.