Tag: Wisconsin

36 Hours in Two Rivers

Winter comes early to Two Rivers and lasts long. Famous for being the birthplace of the ice cream sundae, Two Rivers is nestled along Lake Michigan and the banks of the East Twin and West Twin Rivers. In Two Rivers the wind is biting, the skies are gray, the beer is cold and the accents are charming. Taking a morning stroll along the wooden bridge toward 22nd Street, you find yourself easily slipping into the Northeast Wisconsin dialect when you declare: “The ice. She’s tin.” Possibly not the most obvious tourist destination in late December, here’s what you need to know, if you go.*

Thursday

5 p.m. 1) HOMEMADE BOOZE

En route to Two Rivers, somewhere in the outer limits of Chilton, Wisconsin, there is a farmhouse where, if you are lucky, you can sample some homeade blackberry elixir out of a quart-sized mason jar. The blackberry-infused vodka is a perfect apertif for a night out on the town in Two Rivers.

7  p.m. 2) CROOKED BARN AT THE  HISTORIC WAVERLY

If you are looking to mingle with the locals, try the Waverly Inn in Two Rivers (1402 16th Street). Go for the cheap beer, stay for the live music. On this particular evening said music was provided by hometown heroes Derek Pritzl and Dan Walkner, the duo that makes up Crooked Barn.

Their anthemic song, “Old Fashioned” is Wisconsin’s (and the Waverly’s) unofficial theme song; sing along as Pritzl and Walkner croon about sipping on the popular Wisconsin cocktail while spinning on stools at this popular tavern.

Friday

10:30 a.m. 3) COFFEE (NOW, PLEASE)

After a brisk walk along the river, make your way toward Schroeder’s Department Store (1623 Washington Street), home of the Red Bank Coffeehouse. Grab that vegan blueberry muffin that you picked up at the Willy Street Co-op before leaving Madison out of the van (conveniently parked near Schroeder’s in the Waverly parking lot from the previous evening) and head into Schroeder’s for a hot cup of coffee.

11:30 a.m. 4) HOT OFF THE PRESS

After coffee, make a trip around the corner to the Hamilton Wood Type and Printing Museum (1619 Jefferson Street).

Dedicated to the preservation, study, production and printing of wood type, the museum features 1.5 million pieces of wood type.

Hamilton Manufacturing Company, founded in 1880, was the largest wood type producer in the country, when virtually everything was letterpress printed.

A working museum, every year thousands of people make a voyage to Hamilton’s for workshops and to use the collection to make works of art.

The museum is also the topic of a documentary, Typeface, that was featured at the 2010 Wisconsin Film Festival.

The staff members at the museum are friendly and knowledgeable, adding to the appeal of this must-stop in ‘Trivers.’

1:30 p.m 5) SECOND (OR THIRD)-HAND TREASURES

No trip to the lakeshore area would be complete without a visit to the Lutheran St. Vinny’s, Repeat Performance (4341 Enterprise Court), just down the road from Two Rivers in Manitowoc.

It can be hit-or-miss, but this visit was a success. Dan walked away with a vintage Green Bay Packer Super Bowl 1996 t-shirt and I am now the lucky owner of a chunky, plastic magenta bangle bracelet. If you can handle listening to the sound of the slowly-dying musical doorbell that blasts every time the door is opened (which is a lot), your patience will be rewarded with some awesome stuff.

 2:30 p.m. 6) I LIKE TO RIDE MY BICYCLE

One of the greatest new businesses to open in Manitowoc is the Broken Spoke Bike Studio located at 1010 Washington Street.

At Broken Spoke you can rent bikes, buy new bikes and supplies (I ordered a detachable basket!) and drool over their collection of refurbished vintage Schwinns. The Two Rivers branch of Broken Spoke will be opening in March and will also serve coffee and gelato. Yum.

Just be on alert for the latest addition to Broken Spoke, the vicious watch dog, 14-week-old Iver.

3:30 p.m. 7) MAKE MINE HOT FUDGE PLEASE, AGNES

Although residents of Ithica, New York may argue differently, Two Rivers is the birthplace of the ice cream sundae. First served at Berners’ Soda Fountain in the 1880s, today you can visit the historic Washington House located at 1622 Jefferson Street and order one of these delicious ice cream treats.

5:00 p.m. 8) LET THE BAR CRAWL BEGIN

When it comes to nightlife, Two Rivers has lots to offer.

After a couple of pints and perch fish fry at Remedy (1513 Washington Street), head over to German-themed Kurtz’s (1410 Washington Street) for some German-themed beers and a pretzel with spicy mustard.

Next up is Lee’s Never Inn (1001 17th St), where you can buy a round for the bar for $5.50. The curtains are Packer-themed and the hours are iffy (as the name suggests), so if you see the light on, go in. It’s a Wisconsin tavern experience not to be missed.

After Lee’s, take a short walk down the road to Tippy’s (1713 East Street), the bar where Dan set pins for mini-bowling as an 11-year-old.

Much like Brett Favre did (the first time), Tippy retired too soon and sold his bar. After a year or so, Tippy bought his bar back and returned it to greatness.

Saturday

9 a.m. 9) IT’S TOO EARLY FOR BREAKFAST

If you are looking for a traditional breakfast, head on over to M & M Lunch (1210 Washington Street). They can accomodate large groups and will bring you lots and lots of hot coffee. An added bonus, the mounted fish wear Santa hats, giving the place a festive atmosphere.

10:30 a.m. 10) IT’S ALWAYS COOLER BY THE LAKE

After breakfast be sure to make a stop to yell at the waves at Neshotah Beach, located along Zlatnik Drive on the shores of Lake Michigan.

11:00 a.m. 11) LONESOME TOWN

Our final stop in Two Rivers was in Willie’s shop, located in Dan’s parent’s driveway. A genuine Wisconsin renaissance man, Willie is a talented singer/ songwriter, carpenter and accordian player (and father to Dan).

His song, “Lonesome Town,” is Wisconsin’s other unofficial theme song. There is no better way to conclude a trip to T.R. than in Willie’s garage listening to Whad’Ya Know? on NPR and watching Willie spit Leinie’s on his woodstove (in a couple of minutes it fills the shop with a sweet aroma of malt). It was a magnificient way to say farewell to Trivers. Until next time, T.R.

*Thanks to the New York Times travel feature, 36 Hours, for the inspiration for this post.

 

I’ve got a black belt in keeping it real

On a recent rainy (football) Saturday, Dan and I ventured right into the belly of the beast; the eye of the storm. I had a hankering for miso soup and cupcakes and no crazed badger fans nor a lack of parking for a 3-mile radius was going to stop me. We negotiated the sea of red and white with my station wagon as our trusty vessel and headed straight for Monroe Street. Our destination? Macha Teahouse. We miraculously found a parking spot and sloshed our way (opposite the crowd) through the puddles and into the dry and warm tea lounge.

Despite what you may have heard,* Macha Teahouse is not owned and operated by the black belt and civil engineer-former manager of the Milwaukee Brewers, Ken Macha. But it is run by these friendly folks. We were greeted immediately upon entering and directed to take a look at the chalk board menu of teas. The selection may seem a little overwhelming, but don’t be afraid to ask for recommendations. Dan prefers his tea coffee-flavored, but I like to embrace my Scottish roots and drink tea occasionally, especially in the afternoon (it’s tea time!). We ordered a variety of black tea, two cups of miso soup and a dark chocolate and zucchini cupcake. Our host inquired if it was our first visit to Macha, which it was Dan’s- I had once ordered an iced tea to go a couple of years prior which I felt validated my comment, ‘Oh no, I have been here before’ (after living in a tourist destination for several years I have a heightened sensitivity to coming off as a gaper). But because it was Dan’s, we also had a few tea cookies thrown in with our order to sweeten Dan’s first visit.

The atmosphere at Macha is serene…

…yet eclectic.

I love manatees.

We took our tray upstairs to a room painted pink where we sat at a low wooden table with pillows as our seats.

Our tray came with a sand-timer hourglass that kept track of the minutes that our tea was to steep in its shiny ceramic black pot. I recommend that you feel free to use this time to discuss your favorite storyline from ‘Days of our Lives,’ which leads me to the first-ever poll featured on Wisconsin Fun Next Exit.

Thank you for participating.

As soon as our tea was ready to drink, our timely host arrived with our miso soup. I opted for a scoop of rice in mine, and it also featured shiitake mushrooms and bok choy.

The soup was hot, healthy and it hit the spot. It was just what I was looking for after a few nights of holiday weekend indulgence. The tea warmed the soul and the chocolate cupcake was nothing short of divine. The thai basil lemon tea cookies were also a welcome addition.

I look forward to returning to Macha and sampling more teas and cupcakes. That Saturday it was a much-needed rejuvenating late lunch that gave me just the boost of energy that I needed for sticker shopping at Orange Tree Imports (a rare but favorite pasttime of mine).

Happy tea drinking.

*Okay, so that was the rumor that Dan and I tried to start.

Macha Teahouse+Gallery on Urbanspoon

Tis the season

Happy one-year anniversary to Wisconsin Fun Next Exit.

It was a year ago this weekend that I was seeking spinach and scones and deciding to follow the advice of Orangette’s Molly Wizenberg and create my own little corner of the internet universe. I have been feeling nostalgic for the giddiness that I felt when I sat down with a bottle of wine to write that first post late on a Saturday night one year ago. I have truly enjoyed writing this and I’ve been thinking about how nice it is of you to join me here. So, thank you.

This past year has been a memorable one marked by an uprising,

a (temporary) job teaching third grade, a Packers super bowl victory, the Brewers in the playoffs, a train trip to Seattle,

road trips, old friends, new friends, an honest effort at really loving yoga (although my triangle pose is still a disaster), a new-found love of cats, specifically the two 10-year-olds who became my roomates in June,

moving to the east side, an attempt at growing a vegetable garden and cooking. Lots and lots of cooking.

Oh have I got some recipes for you. There’s an incredibly easy and delicious one for whole wheat pasta with a sauce made of butter, cream and blue cheese (go for a run first!) and tonight (while talking to my dear friend Jenn who lives in D.C. but aspires to move back to Madison) I made a vegetarian version of french onion soup with toasts and melted swiss cheese that tasted rich and hearty on this blustery day in Wisconsin. I plan on telling you all about these and more but for now it’s off to bed. Tomorrow I’ve got a date with Lambeau Field and Tuesday marks the first day of the campaign against Walker. I’ll provide the soup recipes and you provide the signatures. Tis the season for a recall. Let’s do this, Wisconsin.

Sweet dreams.

Hey, Clothesline

I feel like a bad correspondent and a broken record all rolled into one big ball of suntanned and bug-bitten guilt (‘I promise this time I’ll write!’). I still need to tell you about eating pizza at Delancey in Seattle, riding a police-confiscated, too-big-for-me bike in Jackson, paella in Cheyenne… the list goes on and on. But if I want to live in the present, be in the moment, focus on the here and now, then…

Greetings from the Scandinavian Riviera.

Poplar Lake, photo by Sena

As I type this, I am lucky enough to find myself with my family in the north woods of Minnesota. Even better, I find myself next to a deep, quiet lake and a sauna ten feet from its shores. The last two mornings I have started my day in the best possible way- with a 20-minute swim in the cool water (following a minute of apprehensive shivering in the shallows), a quick and furious dash to the sauna, 10 steamy-minutes of pouring ladles of lake water onto the rocks, a quick dash back to the lake, then a sigh-inducing and body-tingling five-minute swim. Yesterday this was followed by a breakfast of coffee and pancakes with lingonberries. Really, all mornings should start like this.

Afternoon splashing, photo by Sena

The last time I was able to start days this way was the last time that I was in northern Minnesota and my name wasn’t Erica, it was Clothilde. I was a camper at Lac du Bois. French camp. I spent five summers at this camp and all week I have been reminiscing about the magical time that I spent in the woods eating bon bons and listening to Salifou, a counselor from the Ivory Coast, tell us stories by the bonfire next to the beach. When I first started attending the camp, there were no showers. After getting awoken at a too-early hour (one summer I was in a cabin where my counselor would bang open the screen door and shout, ‘Bonjour Brussels!’- the name of our cabin- to rise us), we were marched down a path to an area where we bathed in the freezing cold lake, ran screaming up the slippery, steep wooden stairs to the sauna, and then back down to the lake. Breakfast in the lodge followed: Yogurt and mueslix, baguettes with butter and jam, and the best part- hot chocolate that we sipped out of bowls. Heaven.

A lot of what went on at the camp was conducted in French, and although I had studied it a little in school, I spent a lot of time at the camp not sure what was going on around me. It was wonderful. Every afternoon we gathered in a different spot for a new installment of what sounded like ‘plazeer da more,’ which was an on-going improv soap opera presented by the staff. I watched as my underwater basket-weaving instructor, wrapped in a bed sheet, moaned and cried to the tennis pro, Pascal. At the end of the ‘episode,’ I would clap and sing along to the theme song, as best I could, wondering all along what it was that I had just witnessed. Dinner followed. Fat jars of Dijon mustard with cork lids sat at each table and we would mix our own vinagrette every evening for our green salad, served family style. Campfires lit up the night and the singing of ‘Bon swa le loo’ (which, while I certainly can’t spell it, translates to ‘Good night, wolf’) meant bedtime.

While I fumbled and bumbled and spent a lot of time feeling somewhat confused, I learned the important things. I knew the sounds to make to withdraw enough francs out of my bank account to take to the store where I would say, ‘Shoov-oo-dray, ash-a-tay milk chocolate toblerone y coca-cola see-vou-play’ and walk away happily with my afternoon snack. One of my favorite counselors was a guy from France called Willie who would mimic my Wisconsin accent and had nicknamed me ‘Clothesline.’ One afternoon as I sat atop my blue and gray sleeping bag on the top bunk eating my toblerone, I looked out the screen door and saw Willie walking by my cabin. ‘Hey Willie,’ I yelled. ‘Hey, Clothesline,’ Willie responded. Fueled by an extreme sugar high, this exchange made my day and apparently, my long-term memory.

Back to the present. This excursion to the north woods has been marked by an abundance of seafood (including an out-of-this world meal at the Angry Trout in Grand Marais) and a lack of toblerones. The lake/ sauna/ lake routine seems better to me now then it ever did when I was known as Clothilde. Much like a youth may discover drugs, my mom has discovered headlamps. Last night as we lead her around in the woods she was euphoric as she declared that everything was sparkly and that there were bugs everywhere. Tonight we intend to have a campfire by the lake. I only wish that Salifou were here to tell us one of his stories.

Ashley’s sayonara breakfast

Happy heat wave.

This afternoon as I sat idling in sweltering contruction traffic on Willy Street my eyes were drawn to the sign posted outside the gas station that stated: “Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.” Pondering this, I decided no truer words have ever been spoken. At least not today.

It’s been a week since Dan and I rolled up in my dusty car after 23 1/2 hours on the road from our trip to Wyoming. I’ve got loads of stories and even more photos, I’m not even sure where to start. So I’ve decided to begin at the end, with Ashley’s breakfast.

Ashley was one of our two lovely hosts when we were in Jackson and she made us a delicious breakfast of egg sandwiches with truffle aioli and arugula the morning that we had to skip town. The truffle aioli made the sandwich and I intend to pick up a bottle of black truffle olive oil as soon as I win the lottery this week (maybe from the aforementioned gas station).

Forgive me for not having the exact recipe, but all great recipes are meant to be experimented with and modified (for example, I asked Ashley to hold the bacon on my sandwich.) Any way you slice it, it’s going to be delicious…

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Ashley’s sayonara egg sandwiches with truffle aioli

Ingredients:

English muffin

egg

arugula

black traffle infused olive oil

mayo

cheese (optional)

Directions:

Fry an egg over medium. Mix together a small amount of truffle olive oil (maybe a tablespoon) and a couple of tablespoons of mayo (to taste). Toast an english muffin. Spread the truffle aioli on both sides of the english muffin. If you feel so inclined, slice a piece of white cheese and place on one side of the muffin. Place the egg and a layer of arugula (the spicer the better, says Ashley) on the muffins. Make into a sandwich and eat. Enjoy.

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I’ve got to run (into a lake), but stay tuned for more stories, recipes and photos from Wyoming… Until then, stay cool.