Waiting to board a flight to Green Bay Wisconsin is like a warm-up exercise for a Packers game. Passengers decked out in the famous green and white become fast friends with strangers chatting about trades, and the state of Aaron Rodger’s shoulder, while a young Delta Airlines agent wearing blue rimmed glasses throws out trivia questions causing a contagion of giggles at the gate.
The folks in Green Bay are completely crazy for their football team and it shows. Whenever it snows, they flock to Lambeau armed with shovels ready to clear the field. So it’s no surprise that this small town of only 100,000 would have a stadium big enough to fit 80,000 of them. These exuberant cheeseheads also happen to own their beloved league.
But when you’re done with the football and sampling squeaky cheese curds, only a short drive away is Door County Peninsula, a slice of land surrounded by Lake Michigan in Wisconsin’s northeast corner, inhabited by a sprinkling of unique waterfront villages and a thriving eclectic culinary scene that should not be missed.
Many people refer to Door County Peninsula as the Cape Cod of the Midwest, and it’s not surprising, considering the white-capped waters of Lake Michigan, miles of sandy beaches, picturesque lighthouses, and pristine state parks. Door County, founded in 1851, was originally called “Porte de Morte” or “Door of Death” a name first given by the French trappers who worked in the area because of the treacherous waters that mark this water passage off the tip of Lake Michigan.
With many businesses closing down for the winter season, the best time to enjoy the area and its potpourri of delicious food is from May through to October. I go in late September when the air is exceptionally fresh, there are plenty of apples to pick and oodles of plump cherry pies to devour.
In fact Door County is the fourth largest producer of cherries in the nation and a visit to Seaquist Orchards in Sister Bay confirms this. Their perfectly tart dried Montmorency cherries are great for cooking and baking, or wickedly smothered in chocolate. I’m partial to dipping rectangles of salty crackers into smoky cherry barbeque sauce but the winner is their sublimely spicy and sweet cherry salsa which would go well with just about anything.
Goats graze atop the roof of Al Johnson’s Restaurant in Sister Bay.
That morning, we pull up to Al Johnson’s Restaurant in Sister Bay and make out a sign “Valkommen” (Swedish for “welcome”) swinging above the entrance. I’m shocked to see four goats grazing 10 feet up on a grass rooftop. Once inside the brown wooden building, I’m reminded of Door County’s significant Scandinavian presence and deep connection to history and culture. Platters of Swedish meatballs pass by me carried by girls wearing cleavage baring white frilly blouses, and bright red vests. I almost forget I’m in Wisconsin.
I go for the meatballs and square shaped Swedish pancakes (a departure from the traditional Swedish pancake rolled up, sprinkled with butter and icing sugar) adding some creamy Wisconsin butter, house syrup and spoonfuls of lingonberry sauce. Al Johnson’s son, Lars, tells me that their family restaurant is the second largest importer of lingonberries to the U.S., other than IKEA.
Another great place for Swedish cuisine is Grandma’s Swedish Bakery at Rowley’s in Ellison Bay. I try not to stuff myself with their amazing Swedish breakfast buffet, featuring bread pudding, a garnish of Montmorency cherries that I could make into a meal, egg lasagna (baked layers of scrambled eggs, zucchini and onions), and crispy potato pancakes constructed with thinly sliced green onions, but I give up.
Jewel Ouradnik, owner of the bakery and restaurant, makes her way to my table as other guests politely interrupt, thanking her for their scrumptious morning meal. She offers me slices of slightly sweet cardamom coffee cake, fresh Swedish rye limpa bread, and heavenly pecan rolls, all inspired by recipes that were handed down from her grandmother.
Authentic Fish boils are serious business in Door County. At the Old Post Office in Ephraim, I warm up outside sitting around the fire crackle and listening to boil master, Earl Jones, share tales and jokes about the early days. A huge pot is filled with local white fish steaks, potatoes and onions. At just the right moment, kerosene is added to the water, there’s a big blast of fire and the pot overflows with the fish oils that have surfaced to the top. The only hiccup in our dinner, other than the fish bones that I carefully remove from my mouth, is the lack of wine or beer available. Our server reminds me that Ephraim is a dry town, and has been since 1853. I convince my friends to head over for a nightcap with the locals at the Bay Side Tavern near my hotel in Fish Creek.
Although Door County is steeped in tradition, there are some new restaurants and food shops in the neighbourhood shaking up the culinary scene. Parador, a Spanish tapas restaurant, has food that will blow your mind. We start our fiesta with a crisp chardonnay based sangria, topped with ginger and candied tomatoes, and proceed to share small plates of their bomba (a large pork meatball, covered in Yukon gold puree, dressed with oyster mushrooms), sweet pulp heirloom tomatoes rubbed on toast, their version of fish and chips (grilled anchovies layered on homemade potato chips with a side of homemade cherry mustard sauce), and locally raised lamb, a melt in your mouth delicious shank, braised in cinnamon, nuts and fried leeks. Dessert is equally spectacular with a plate of churros to be plunged in spicy hot chocolate, and a square of delicate crème caramel.
The international influences in Door County continue with sips of handcrafted Normandy style cider owned by Bob Purnam, television/ film director, and cider maker in Ellison Bay. Bob makes his cider from his own orchards a ferry ride away on Washington Island.“ We hope to produce what we want and believe there’s a market for it, ” Bob became interested in making cider after family trips to northern France with his wife, Yannique, visiting her father in northern France. Hand bottled and capped, and gluten-free, I especially love the Apple Cherry Cider, but I can’t help but wish for a little piece of cheese to go with it.
And Door County is a great place to be inspired by Wisconsin cheeses with over 600 varieties. I’m ecstatic to discover the multitude of artisanal cheesemakers in the area. The Schoolhouse Artisan Cheese in Egg Harbor represents dozens of Wisconsin artisan cheesemakers. With every nibble I learn more about the process and history behind each wheel of cheese.
I’ve never been a fan of Gouda but I change my mind after trying a semi-soft Marieke Gouda, infused with fenugreek (a nutty, maple flavoured seed imported from Holland) melted on homemade crostini. Marieke’s 6-9 month aged Gouda won the 2013 Grand U.S. Championship Cheese Contest.
I move on to a gorgeous Dunbarton Blue, a remarkable cheddar, with a slightly spicy and earthy flavour, produced by Chris Roelli, 4th generation cheesemaker. To achieve the ribbon of blue, the cheddar is pierced with oxygen, making the marked areas turn blue during the aging process.
There are more unique tasting cheeses to sample, like the Snow White Goat Cheddar, cave aged for 6 months, and enticing food to tempt my palate, but on my fifth day when I feel the top button of my jeggings about to pop, I decide to call it quits with plans to eat more when I return in the spring.
> This article by Rena Godfrey appeared in the 2014 Summer issue of the Taste & Travel Magazine.