"You know, I didn't think it was possible, but my teeth are starting to burn."
If I can leave one final impression of Milwaukee, it must be in regards to her fantastic big-city selection of cuisine. My wife and I had one full weekend to spend in the city and, being it Ashley's birthday, we decided to explore some of the more exotic options.
On one evening we found ourselves walking along the river, headed to a seafood joint. Again, the weather was phenomenal - we strolled comfortably in dress clothes and light jackets. At a glance, I'd have hardly thought we were in the heart of such a major city. The river walk was deserted, but for us. Only occasionally did the sound of traffic permeate the silence. Only occasionally did we encounter anyone else, his or her presence betrayed by the cherry glow of a cigarette on a balcony overhead. We chatted on our way to the restaurant, totally immersed in each other's company. There were no distractions, and no reason to feel danger. The city was clean, safe, and quiet - I felt every reason to love Milwaukee.
Our first outing was at Molly Cool's, a seafood restaurant along the river, chosen for the simplest of reasons - I had a severe craving for raw oysters. As an appetizer, raw oysters are unsurpassed. They are flavorful, delicate and light, and moreover come with a warning label. I prefer to be warned of the health risks associated with consuming my food - that's how I know it's good.
The platter arrived, containing a variety of East and West Coast oysters. Among the selection were a few Kumamoto - the finest and most delicate of all. As always, I looked across the table at my wife. "Care to try one?" I smiled. On previous occasions she would reject my offer, citing texture, or the thought of the slippery flesh, as reason not to indulge. Tonight, she very enthusiastically replied that yes, she would like to try raw oysters.
Being the good husband I am, I loaded a shell with the proper garnishes - squeeze of lemon, dab of horseradish, topped with a hint of cocktail sauce. To good company and yet another fine experience we raised our shells and cheered - down the hatch. Of course they were delicious. Raw oysters always are. Ashley became a fan that night, and helped me finish the entire platter.
For main course, the menu featured a dish of baked scallops in a white wine sauce. Simple, delicate, and elegant - everything good seafood should be. I was reminded of an experience I had in Maine. I was on a mission to find a local seafood shack to order a fresh Maine lobster. In the process I befriended the proprietor of just such an establishment, but I learned something exceptional: In the culinary world, Maine is famous for something, but it's not lobster.
Chomping on a cigar and sipping Spanish wine, the proprietor explained that a lobster is a lobster - one from Maine is indistinguishable from its Canadian counterpart. However, something about the water, whether it is certain nutrients, temperature, or a combination thereof, make the scallops from Maine truly exquisite. Maine scallops are world-renowned for their exceptional quality, and are highly sought after by premier chefs. Although the scallops at Molly Cool's were not from Maine, I couldn't help but smile at the random bit of information I seem to have retained.
For our final evening in Milwaukee, Ashley and I patronized a Thai restaurant. In and of itself, eating Thai food is an experience, so we don't do it very often. Known for being remarkably spicy, Thai food is more than that. It is refined and sophisticated. Beneath the fiery façade lies a depth of flavors and textures, which are enhanced, rather than masked, by the spice. One bite may set your mouth on fire, but what follows is a burst of zing from various curries, coconut milk, tropical fruit, and whatever meat was utilized. All you want, despite the burn, is to eat more.
I ordered the curried roast duck, at an "aggressive" level of spiciness (just below the designate of "Native Thai"). The sauce arrived along with a small bowl of rice. Here goes, are you ready? Like I said, this is an experience.
The first bite seems mellow. Distinct flavors include coconut and pineapple. The curry adds an ethnic twist, and the fatty meat of duck literally melts in my mouth. By the second bite, the spice hits. My tongue is burning, but it does not mask the intense flavors of the dish. I must have more.
A few bites later the entire inside of my mouth is on fire. My tongue hurts. My throat hurts. My forehead is hot with perspiration. I have to wipe my nose between bites. I suck air as though reverse whistling, to try to cool the inside of my mouth. A swig of cold beer seems to evaporate before I can even swallow. Between ragged breaths I lean toward my wife and exclaim, "Man - this is great!"
By the end of the meal, my teeth hurt. I didn't think it was possible, but so intense is the spice, that my teeth are throbbing. Now it hurts to bite down on anything, even the soft tissue of duck. Time to quit.
After dessert, the bill arrived. Want to know my favorite part of Milwaukee? A dinner for two, including drinks, appetizer, and dessert, came to about $60. This was definitely not New York City.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times that normally appears each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
If I can leave one final impression of Milwaukee, it must be in regards to her fantastic big-city selection of cuisine. My wife and I had one full weekend to spend in the city and, being it Ashley's birthday, we decided to explore some of the more exotic options.
On one evening we found ourselves walking along the river, headed to a seafood joint. Again, the weather was phenomenal - we strolled comfortably in dress clothes and light jackets. At a glance, I'd have hardly thought we were in the heart of such a major city. The river walk was deserted, but for us. Only occasionally did the sound of traffic permeate the silence. Only occasionally did we encounter anyone else, his or her presence betrayed by the cherry glow of a cigarette on a balcony overhead. We chatted on our way to the restaurant, totally immersed in each other's company. There were no distractions, and no reason to feel danger. The city was clean, safe, and quiet - I felt every reason to love Milwaukee.
Our first outing was at Molly Cool's, a seafood restaurant along the river, chosen for the simplest of reasons - I had a severe craving for raw oysters. As an appetizer, raw oysters are unsurpassed. They are flavorful, delicate and light, and moreover come with a warning label. I prefer to be warned of the health risks associated with consuming my food - that's how I know it's good.
The platter arrived, containing a variety of East and West Coast oysters. Among the selection were a few Kumamoto - the finest and most delicate of all. As always, I looked across the table at my wife. "Care to try one?" I smiled. On previous occasions she would reject my offer, citing texture, or the thought of the slippery flesh, as reason not to indulge. Tonight, she very enthusiastically replied that yes, she would like to try raw oysters.
Being the good husband I am, I loaded a shell with the proper garnishes - squeeze of lemon, dab of horseradish, topped with a hint of cocktail sauce. To good company and yet another fine experience we raised our shells and cheered - down the hatch. Of course they were delicious. Raw oysters always are. Ashley became a fan that night, and helped me finish the entire platter.
For main course, the menu featured a dish of baked scallops in a white wine sauce. Simple, delicate, and elegant - everything good seafood should be. I was reminded of an experience I had in Maine. I was on a mission to find a local seafood shack to order a fresh Maine lobster. In the process I befriended the proprietor of just such an establishment, but I learned something exceptional: In the culinary world, Maine is famous for something, but it's not lobster.
Chomping on a cigar and sipping Spanish wine, the proprietor explained that a lobster is a lobster - one from Maine is indistinguishable from its Canadian counterpart. However, something about the water, whether it is certain nutrients, temperature, or a combination thereof, make the scallops from Maine truly exquisite. Maine scallops are world-renowned for their exceptional quality, and are highly sought after by premier chefs. Although the scallops at Molly Cool's were not from Maine, I couldn't help but smile at the random bit of information I seem to have retained.
For our final evening in Milwaukee, Ashley and I patronized a Thai restaurant. In and of itself, eating Thai food is an experience, so we don't do it very often. Known for being remarkably spicy, Thai food is more than that. It is refined and sophisticated. Beneath the fiery façade lies a depth of flavors and textures, which are enhanced, rather than masked, by the spice. One bite may set your mouth on fire, but what follows is a burst of zing from various curries, coconut milk, tropical fruit, and whatever meat was utilized. All you want, despite the burn, is to eat more.
I ordered the curried roast duck, at an "aggressive" level of spiciness (just below the designate of "Native Thai"). The sauce arrived along with a small bowl of rice. Here goes, are you ready? Like I said, this is an experience.
The first bite seems mellow. Distinct flavors include coconut and pineapple. The curry adds an ethnic twist, and the fatty meat of duck literally melts in my mouth. By the second bite, the spice hits. My tongue is burning, but it does not mask the intense flavors of the dish. I must have more.
A few bites later the entire inside of my mouth is on fire. My tongue hurts. My throat hurts. My forehead is hot with perspiration. I have to wipe my nose between bites. I suck air as though reverse whistling, to try to cool the inside of my mouth. A swig of cold beer seems to evaporate before I can even swallow. Between ragged breaths I lean toward my wife and exclaim, "Man - this is great!"
By the end of the meal, my teeth hurt. I didn't think it was possible, but so intense is the spice, that my teeth are throbbing. Now it hurts to bite down on anything, even the soft tissue of duck. Time to quit.
After dessert, the bill arrived. Want to know my favorite part of Milwaukee? A dinner for two, including drinks, appetizer, and dessert, came to about $60. This was definitely not New York City.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times that normally appears each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
