David Michael Miller
One of the more surreal aspects of Wisconsin's governor’s race is Madison Mayor Paul Soglin’s declaration that he’s going to run by visiting supper clubs around the state. Imagining Soglin in a supper club is like trying to conjure up Donald Trump in a library.
Nonetheless, I’ve seen my share of supper clubs and so, to be helpful, let me offer the mayor some tips.
While waiting for your table order a brandy old fashioned. Or just order an old fashioned in which case you’ll get one with brandy. Under no circumstances should you specify whiskey or bourbon. That’s a dead giveaway that you’re not from around here.
If you’re there on a Wednesday or Friday, you must order the fish fry. It would be best not to even look at the menu. Just say, "I'll have the fish fry."
You may be asked if you want your fish fried or baked. Always remember that you are at a fish fry, not a fish bake. Go with the fried every time.
Always order French fries with your fish (if you have trouble remembering the rules, just order fried everything and you can’t mess up), although in most parts of the state hash browns are also acceptable. You may be offered some potato alternative like rice pilaf. This is a trap! Nobody has ever ordered the rice pilaf. They don’t even have it in the kitchen. Order the pilaf and figure out what you’re going to do with all your time after the primary.
If you’re there on a Saturday, you’ll order the prime rib and again demonstrate your authenticity by not so much as lifting the menu. For the love of God, do not order the queen cut! Some of the more progressive establishments have come up with less sexist names for the smaller portions, but always go big anyway.
Of course, you must order a beer with your dinner. Stick to any beer you remember from the '60s: Pabst, Miller, Schlitz are all safe choices. A newer beer that works is Spotted Cow, which is so ubiquitous in Wisconsin restaurants and bars that one would think it was piped in through the municipal water system. Don’t use words like "ubiquitous" or phrases like "one would think." I just threw those in there to pitch you some curveballs.
When you take your trip to the salad bar, load up — even if you have no intention of eating that much. People returning from the salad bar with a handful of carrot sticks and a cracker are regarded with disdain.
Speaking of disdain, avoid conversations about sports. I know you’ve said that you don’t go out of your way to, you know, actually meet people in supper clubs, which some will find an odd way to run a political campaign. Nonetheless, should you find yourself in a conversation about sports, you may let it slip that you’re a lifelong Bears fan. You might as well have ordered the rice pilaf.
Similarly, don’t mention your love of the Chicago Cubs. You might get away with it in Racine and Kenosha, where proximity and lingering bitterness about the onetime Milwaukee Braves have left a smattering of Cubs fans in their wake, but it’s still risky business. And, seriously, Wrigley Field is a slum that should have been condemned and bulldozed when Eisenhower was president.
So, you’ve finished your entree and your beer and you’ve avoided speaking to anyone. Great. But it’s not a successful visit until you’ve ordered dessert. Here, again, refuse to look at a menu. You want a grasshopper.
It’s a minefield out there, Paul. But if you follow my simple instructions, and avoid making eye contact with anyone, you’ll get through it just fine.
