Milwaukee: American Family Field
<through mouthful of sausage> Is this heaven? <chew chew chew>
A lot is going to be written about Milwaukee this week. Some of it will be fawning, some damning, some controversial. We’ll leave all of that “hard hitting” commentary to the journos covering the Republican convention in Cream City. I’m here to talk about a *lack* of hits. But first…
I’ve been a devoted fan of the state of Wisconsin for a long time, starting with my first visit in 2008 when the company I worked for put me in a truck and had me deliver Obama yard signs to local Democratic party offices all over the eastern part of the state.1 It was a three day job and my first overnight stay was in Manitowoc, a small port city along Lake Michigan. I wandered around a little bit before grabbing a bar seat at the Courthouse Pub2 for a steak filet sandwich and a few house-brewed beers to while away the time. There was a Brewers game on TV and a handful of us closely monitoring the action.
Maybe it was the novelty of my surroundings or the atmosphere of instant camaraderie that Wisconsin tavern culture is known for, but everything about that evening seemed perfect and comfortable. I raved about that sandwich — which was good but probably not that good — for years to anyone who would listen. I wasn’t as versed in craft beer then the way I am now, but I made mental notes of how fresh and flavorful my pints were. My one-night-only friends at the bar bonded over the game, riding waves of emotion as the Brewers rallied from behind to win. I was so taken with the feeling that I made it all the way back to my hotel before I realized I had walked out on my tab without paying. I got a few more steps in trudging back to the pub to settle up, profusely apologize and tip heavily right before they locked the doors for the night.
Later that year, I would meet Erin, whose family had been vacationing in Door County, Wisconsin — out on the tip of the “thumb” separating Green Bay from the rest of Lake Michigan — since she was a little kid. Upon learning this, I, of course, asked her if she had ever had the steak filet sandwich from the Courthouse Pub in Manitowoc.3
In 2010, the summer after we had announced our intentions to codify our “besties for the restie” status, she brought me up to Door County to introduce me to her extended family and the place she held so dear. I won’t get too deep into my impression of the place — maybe I’ll make a bonus post at some point4 — but suffice it to say that I’ve only missed two vacations with Erin to Door County since that first visit: in 2015 when I was about to open a restaurant and in 2020 because of COVID. Both times, it crushed me not to take the trip.
With each passing year, we made a pact to explore more of Wisconsin on our way to and from Door County. We were introduced to the city of Madison at our friends Pete and Nicole’s wedding, and then made it back again just a year ago on our own after I had visited a few times for work. We got to visit the New Glarus Brewing Company — a must-stop for beer fans — built on a hillside overlooking the town and the idyllic farmland all around, both when it was a major tourist attraction and after COVID with very limited hours on weekdays only. A few years ago around the time our friends Lisa and Mike bought a little lakeside getaway in Racine, we started popping into Milwaukee on our northward trek, checking out much of what the “big city” had to offer.
The more we see of Wisconsin, the more connected I feel to it. Everything just seems to run at my speed here, even beyond the stereotypical devotions to sausage, cheese, beer and sports. There’s character in these places, extending beyond just “Midwest nice,” seeking to preserve an identity while adapting to change. In a parallel universe, I think I could have made a go of it here, in Milwaukee particularly. Sure, every place has its downside, but no place outside of Ohio has ever felt as much like home to me as the Badger State.
Because of the rainout in St. Louis altering my schedule, I had to hustle up to Milwaukee for the Pirates-Brewers game on Thursday afternoon. I stayed the night in Chicago with my lifelong buds Russ and Jeff on Wednesday night, then hit the road around 7:30 a.m.
First stop: Woodman’s Market in Kenosha. I literally cannot drive past this place without stopping in. One of a small chain of employee-owned groceries, this particular Woodman’s near the Illinois border has a cheese section bigger than most supermarkets’ entire dairy cases, as well as a beer, wine and liquor department bigger than an entire family-owned grocery store. I anticipated that there may be some tailgating involved at the Brewers game, so I filled up the cooler in the trunk of the Mazda 3 with beers from New Glarus, Eagle Park and Third Space.
With a couple of hours to kill before the game, I wanted to catch up a little on this blog, so I set up camp at Interval, a coffee shop in the Bay View neighborhood of Milwaukee for some desperately needed caffeine. I’ve never been a “bring your laptop to the coffee shop” kind of guy, but in my current nomadic lifestyle, I get the appeal.
My friend Paul and I agreed to meet at Magoo’s on the Mound for lunch before the game. This strip of Bluemound Road northwest of American Family Field is dotted up and down with bars, almost all of which offer free or cheap shuttle service to Brewers games. The place was packed when I walked in and Paul was still about 20 minutes away, so I ordered us some sandwiches to go and sat at the back bar with a Spotted Cow while I waited.
Just before Paul showed up, the family sitting at a high-top table behind me asked if I wanted a free Cuban sandwich; the mother and daughter had each ordered one, not knowing how huge they were, and there were two untouched halves. I had a fresh Cuban imminently coming from the kitchen, but who am I to turn down free food?
We got to talking, as you do in Wisconsin. I mentioned my trip to all 30 ballparks this summer. They told the story of going to a Brewers game earlier this year in Pittsburgh where the daughter held up a sign to get the attention of her favorite former Brewer — and current Pirate first baseman — Rowdy Tellez. Rowdy came over to say “hi” during the game and gave her a signed bat that said “Someday I hope to get a bat from you!”
I love this game.
I’ve been to two games in Milwaukee prior to this visit, and I always wanted to take part in some pregame tailgating in the parking lots around American Family Field. This would have to be an abbreviated version, since we were running a little late, but we parked the car, set up our camp chairs, cracked a couple beers and tore into our Magoo’s sandwiches. Tailgating is a big deal here, especially since there is very little reliable public transportation to the ballpark, outside of the myriad bar shuttles. On a sold out weekend night, there will be hundreds of pop-up tents, grills and coolers set up hours before gates open, the smell of freshly cooked bratwursts wafting in a half mile radius around the park. It’s worth it to get here early and take it all in.
Ok, time to pay off that tease from the intro… The Pirates were in town to finish up a three-game series with the division rival Brewers, sending rookie phenom Paul Skenes to the mound. Since his Major League debut on May 11, Skenes had pitched to a record of 5-0 in 10 starts with 78 strikeouts in 59-1/3 innings alongside a skinny 2.12 ERA.5 Despite my secondary allegiance to the Brew Crew, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely excited to see the kid pitch.
Skenes was electric from the start, allowing two baserunners in the second inning on a hit-by-pitch and a walk, and no more throughout his seven inning gem. Eleven Brewers batters went down by strikeout and not a single one was able to tally a hit against the rookie flamethrower. After 99 pitches, Skenes was lifted from his no-hit bid by Pirates manager Derek Shelton, and reliever Colin Holderman’s second pitch of the game was smacked for a single by Brewer first baseman Jake Bauers. The Pirates were only able to scratch out one run against Aaron Civale and the Milwaukee piching staff, but Skenes, Holderman and closer Aroldis Chapman made it hold up for a Pirate victory.6
After exiting through the gift shop and picking up new lids for myself and Erin, Paul and I decided to wait out the exiting game traffic with one last parking lot beer. We both grew up as Detroit Tiger fans, so we dug deep into the current state of the roster and how much more needs to be done for the team to be a contender again.7 For whatever flaws American Family Field has as a ballpark — no intimate feel, spartan concourses, the most expensive 12 oz. Spotted Cow can I’ve ever purchased — the fan culture more than makes up for it, as evidenced by the day long commitment most make to cheer on their team from the pre-game tailgate to the post-game tailgate. I’d imagine some folks have to be told to leave. That wasn’t us, though.
I dropped Paul off on the Mound and made my way back to Chicago by way of two of my favorite places. First, a post-game meal at The Vanguard, a Bay View dive bar with a phenomenal upscale sausage menu. This place occupies the part of my heart vacated by Hot Doug’s when they closed up shop in Chicago, and right now may be the best meal available out of a paper boat in the entire Midwest. I got a duck BLT sausage topped with shredded lettuce, bacon bits and hollandaise aioli, as well as an all-beef hot dog Seoul-style, topped with Korean BBQ sauce, spicy pickles, shredded carrot and scallions.
While there, I texted Russ and Jeff to let them know I was on my way back and offered to cook dinner for them. That’s when they let me know that Jeff had been taken to the hospital that afternoon after a wave of dizziness took him over, compounded by blurred vision. With his history of epilepsy, seizures, stroke and brain surgery,8 doctors were taking no chances and started running every test imaginable.
For a minute a decade or so ago, I was one of Jeff’s emergency contacts. It’s primarily his brother Russ now, but of course I wanted to swoop into action. Stop number two on the way back? Woodman’s — again — to get some keto-compliant snacks9 for Jeff while he was laid up in the hospital and later when he would be able to come home. In addition to some absurdly cheap 18-year-old cheddar, morel and leek jack cheese and fresh, squeaky curds, I also stocked up on some local meat products with stomach-turning names.
In all, I only spent about 9 hours in Milwaukee to visit this ballpark, but I know I’ll be back again. It’s a great city in a part of the country that’s often overlooked or dismissed. This place just feels right to me, though I’m sure it’s not everyone’s cup of brandy. In fact, go ahead and keep overlooking and dismissing it. More cheese curds for me.
I promise this post isn’t going to get political. That said, if your immediate reaction to what I used to do for a living made you viscerally upset, don’t feel the need to read on any further. I won’t be mad. If anything, I’ll be glad to not cause you any further mental anguish.
If you watched Making a Murderer back in 2015, you may have unknowingly caught a glimpse of the pub in the footage filmed outside the Manitowoc County courthouse.
My obsession with this sandwich runs deep, and I’m just a little bummed that the new owners of the place replaced it with a strip steak sandwich (which I’m sure is just fine.)
I’m actually writing this post in Door County, taking a brief vacation from my vacation during the All-Star break.
That’s really good, if you’re only here for the sausage and beer.
Home teams are now 5-9 in the games I’ve attended. The curse is real.
In a nutshell, “it stinks” and “a lot,” respectively.
I’m not violating HIPAA here: Jeff actually has a great YouTube channel and Instagram account about his personal experiences that is definitely worth your time.
In our group text, he mentioned a “salty nut bag,” which was either an earnest snack request or some randy humor. Either way, I complied.
I raise a Spotted Cow in your general direction good Sir