Brap brap, nom nom III: Great Lakes edition

Mrs. Lem and I recently took a little jaunt around the Midwest. In fact, it’s actually the longest vacation we’d ever taken together. Now Mrs. Lem, dainty little lass that she is, can actually go toe-to-toe with Common Tread’s fattest contributor when it comes to eatin’. She’s also highly critical of poor food, so I made a special effort to find her the very best grub I could throughout our travels around the biggest lakes in the country.

Note that you’re going to see some specific items, and some repeats, especially in the way of whitefish. Whitefish is commonly pulled out of the Great Lakes, and is eaten by people across the country… but a lot of what they don’t ship out gets eaten close to home. It’s a versatile food and a tasty one, so don’t be surprised that this list is a little heavy on “surf” and light on “turf.”

Whitefish sandwich at Deep Water Grille, Ashland, Wisconsin

We rolled into Cable, Wisconsin, and found that the place we wanted to stay was closed. We trekked another 40 dark, dark miles to Ashland, the next city of any consequence. (Man, was I glad for the Duc’s LED headlight!) We rolled into town at perhaps 10 p.m., and the town had turned off all the lights and gone to bed. Mrs. Lem, our buddy Nate, and I had resigned ourselves to the fact we’d be eating dinner wrapped in paper. I rolled up to the Golden Arches, and suddenly saw Nate gun his Road King up the street. He’d found the Deep Water Grille, and it had neon burning in the window. We threw our sidestands down in front of the door and wandered in.

Thank goodness. This was so far in the other direction from a Quarter Pounder it was funny. We sat at the bar, which was built in the 1800s. It’s a beautiful dark wood with stained glass and lighting accents; arguably one of the most unique bars I’ve ever sat at. Our bartender told us to get a food order in so we didn’t miss the kitchen and she actually took our food order before our drinks! I got a huge bowl of some very tasty beer cheese soup, a Wisconsin staple. After that order went in, I had a Lilith Sour Ale from Fieldwork Brewing in Berkeley, California. They describe this as a Belgian Golden; I found it to be exceptional. It was like drinking flowers, in a very good way. I thought it was almost like a session sour; I could have drunk quite a few of these.

Next came our sandwiches. Nate ordered his broiled and I got mine deep-fried. (You have a choice.) I’m gonna say I won out on this. The breading was hot and crisp, and sealed the juicy, flaky whitefish in perfectly. There were some herbs in the breading, and the sandwich was served very simply; with some lettuce, tomato, red onion, and a caper-dill aioli. The roll was a very soft Italian roll. Normally I like my rolls to have some “tooth” to them for a sammy, but this was a perfect pairing; the roll was a good complement to the soft flesh of the whitefish.

Through kismet, we found a cute cabin to stay in, and Mrs. Lem and I fell asleep to the sound of Superior’s waves lapping away at the shore. Take 27 to 2W, loop up 13, then swing around to 2E.

Swine and Mac at Tavern 109, Williamston, Michigan

We ate here after our first 500 miles through rain. Mrs. Lem and Nate both drank cup after cup of tea. Me? I chose to warm up with a Bacon Maker’s Mark, which is Tavern 109’s bacon-infused bourbon, a touch of maple syrup, and garnished with a piece of candied bacon. This sounds like it should be wonderful.

What it did was drive home what I think I already knew — I want my whiskey to taste like whiskey and my bacon to taste like bacon and I don’t want the two combined before they hit my tummy. It was also served over ice, which is a sin in my book. I probably wouldn’t order one of these again.

Where they had a smash hit, however, was their Swine and Mac dish. Look, adding pulled pork to mac ‘n’ cheese ain’t exactly a new idea. Tavern 109 throws their pulled pork in with the cheese, so it’s a much more uniform taste — the cheese in particular has a nice sweet, tangy taste to it. Bacon is (of course) a welcome addition, and the chives and chipotle bring some offbeat flavors to the part. The panko bread crumbs going on top sound better in theory than they do in practice… they don’t have the crunch level I would like to make this dish more interesting from a texture standpoint.

I mellowed out for a while to let my liver burn off my drink, and when the others had sufficiently warmed, I climbed aboard the Multi to find us a place to crash. Take 13 to 52.

Cheese curds at Belle Plaine Cheese, Shawano, Wisconsin

At some point, Nate was getting sleepy on his bike, and indicated we should pull over. We shot down a little road off the two-laner we were traveling, and showed up in front of a cheese shop. As a rabid fan of the dish poutine, I told him I wanted to grab some cheese curds. We popped in, and each bought a bag.

They were out on the counter… good for retaining the “squeak” curds are known to produce. For those of you who haven’t had curds (or had ones that had traveled a long distance or were perhaps old), they squeak against your teeth when you eat ‘em. I’d heard of this, yet still never had a fresh curd, as I’d never been near to a place that made them. That changed at Belle Plaine. I thought I was in the right spot as I saw the curds lying on the counter. Cheese curds under refrigeration rapidly lose their “squeak,” which is a big part of why A) fresh curds are way better than the simple cheese chunks that get shipped all over the country and B) why the real deal is hard to find.

They were sublime. Salty, squeaky, and chewy, for just a few bucks. The perfect snack for an impromptu stop. I kept mine in the Multi’s sadddlebag, and ate all of them throughout the day. (And maybe I raided Nate’s saddlebag later that evening.)

Take 22 to 32 to 64, and see how pretty the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest is.

Pasties at Hiawatha Pasties, Naubinway, Michigan

A pasty is a little savory pastry. (Say “PASS-tee.” It’s not the same as the nipple covers.) They’re ubiquitous in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Imagine some flaky, buttery pie dough filled with meat and delicious root vegetables. Delicious! It was a meal originally eaten by miners and brought to America. Michigan’s upper peninsula, being an important site for copper mining, took to the pasty... aggressively. (Interestingly, they took root in Pennsylvania’s Coal Region, too. Despite living in that area, I’d never even heard of ‘em, nor had Nate, who lives in the heart of coal country.)

Well, Hiawatha is the place to get ‘em. We had gone to visit the snowmobile museum next door, and stumbled over here to grab a bite. They only sell one thing: pasties. A restaurant that has one item is either damn good at that one thing, or about to go under. Hiawatha is the former. We loaded up on tasty pasties, each of us downing one. Nate and I had original, and Jessica had an all-veggie with cheese. (What a nerd.)

Good God. 

Well-cooked veggies, including taters, carrots, and rutabagas with some seasoned, ground pork and beef are tucked into a baked shell. It’s deceptively simple. I passed up gravy, and I’m glad I did: This item can truly be eaten by hand. (I was concerned the crust would get soggy, but it was buttery and flaky and the veggies were really well-drained, so the whole thing held together admirably.

Take 28 if you’re going to Canada and 2 if you’re staying in the States.

Smoked whitefish at Pinconning Cheese Company, Pinconning, Michigan

After tooling around the upper peninsula of Michigan for a coupla days, it became completely apparent that whitefish is abundant. I’d eaten it several times and wasn’t tiring of it, but when Nate and I saw signs smoked fish, we knew we had to grab some. We stopped at several places that were trying to sell us a whole side of the stuff, but neither of us could eat that much and the prospect of smoked seafood in a saddlebag cooking in the sun seemed less than optimal to both of us. When we stopped at the Pinconning Cheese Company, we were able to get a single pound of whitefish.

HO MA LORDY is this stuff good. Smoke flavor doesn’t penetrate the meat too deeply. The flesh is firm and flaky, and is oddly delicious ice cold. If you’re careful, you can pull the pin bones out in one shot and enjoy the flesh with no concern for a bone sticking you in the cheek. The whitefish is briny, but not so salty you can’t chomp down a good amount of it.

We were greedy and hungry, and devoured the fish right out of the paper in their parking lot. The view sucked, but the food was great. This is sort of in suburban hell. Don’t ride here, just take your car or something. We were laying over in Bay City, so it was kind of on the way.

52 Smoke Bombs and Brisket sandwich at Smokehouse 52, Chelsea, Michigan

We rolled into Chelsea with a powerful hunger. Smokehouse 52 delivered. Chelsea is a cute little town which also happens to be the home of Jiffy mixes. Smokehouse 52 honors that heritage with their 52 Smoke Bombs. The take the Jiffy cornbread mix we’ve all had and make hushpuppies, which they then load with pulled pork, and serve with warm slaw. Killer.

While you get done thinking about how damn good that was, try the brisket sammy. It’s just damn good pit beef, and you can have it on brioche (fancy!) or Texas toast. Son of a gun, these things are tasty. 

True aficionados will be glad to know they also make burnt ends here, and not they’re not those forced “manufactured” ones you can get from inferior BBQ joints that never seem to be unavailable. At Smokehouse 52, once they’re gone, they’re gone. 

And to get there? 52 was a nice ride in both directions from Chelsea.

Broiled whitefish sandwich at the Great Lakes Grill, Cheboygan, Michigan

Another whitefish dish. I love fish. I wasn’t tired of fish at all on this trip. Here’s the sammy you want to have broiled, not fried. The fish was falling apart and super-moist, and it was served very simply, with just some lettuce, tomato, and mayo. The fish was nicely seasoned and paired up beautifully with a loose-crumb white bread that had been buttered and toasted on the flat-top grill. It was served with a neat side… some battered onion rings and mushrooms. Just the ticket. I had had a huge breakfast, but had I not… boy, I could have had three of these.

Stay on 23 all the way around the lake.

That caps most of the really delicious stuff we ate on this trip. Wisconsin was like heaven… their food groups were beer, cheese, smoked meat, and fish. It’s all the stuff necessary to sustain a man of my stature. This region’s food was pleasantly different than usual Midwest fare, and I was terminally excited to point the Duc to the next culinary destination any of us found. I highly recommend any of these places to you riders. (And for anyone considering a trip, I had one or two honorable mentions as well!)