Polonia Cafe - Polonia WI

Date of Visit: 4-01-2012

Time of Visit: 9:10 AM

Pebble Score:

Two Poles immigrated to America. On their first day in New York City, they spotted a hot dog vendor in the street. "Do they eat dogs in America?" one asked the other. "I dunno." "Well, we're going to live here, so we might as well learn to do as they do." So they each bought a hot dog wrapped up and sat down to eat them on a nearby park bench. One Pole looked at his hot dog, then over at the other Pole and asked, "What part did you get?"

So, I am stomping on my brakes and typing this quite a bit slower than I normally would. Why? Well, if you have to ask, than I'm writing this for you. I, thought, I, would, put, in, an, extra, comma, now, and, then, to, slow, the, pace,, but, that, just, makes, me, look, like, I, am, part, of, the, "in", crowd. 

There is a misconception that Poles are from Poland, but, as a matter of fact, they come from either the North or the South. Despite the prejudice that surrounds Poles, they are responsible for a variety of inventions and discoveries that have all but dispelled the notion that they can't change a light bulb without ensuing hilarity or that they are easily coaxed out of a tree. Reality about Poles is quite contrary to popular beliefs: Poles are famous for their vaults and their beans; it was a Pole that won the first auto racing time trials; Presidents have relied on their systems to become elected; and Poles were instrumental  with the delivery of electricity to rural areas of the country.

We, as Americans, are familiar with many great slogans that have become the icons of this great nation. Slogans like: "Only you can prevent forest fires.", "Take a bite out of crime.", "A mind is a terrible thing to waste.", and "Nothing sucks like an Electrolux.", are all shining examples of the intellectual minds at work within our marketing borders. Poles are in no way less than masters of the slogan. In fact, Pole masters have come up with a great new tag line that is one of the best I've ever encountered: "Poles, helping dancers pay their bills one dollar at a time!"

Food is another area where Poles excel, and although Pole masters have not come up with a slogan that epitomizes their strudel, kielbasa or pierogi, their eating establishments found throughout Wisconsin are typically a crap-shoot of mediocrity or fabulousness. Of the establishments I have encountered, the Polonia Cafe bullseyes more towards the fabulousness than the mediocrity. 

This little cafe in the middle of Polish America is a buzz with all of the locals and passers-by alike. I have had the pleasure of dining here on a couple of occasions and have never been disappointed with either the service or the food. Becky, our server on this Sunday morning, was pleasant and could take and dish out a bit of sass which gained her high marks in my book! The decor was laden with Packer paraphernalia (surprise!) but also displayed the pride and history of the town in the many vintage photographs that were scattered throughout. Perhaps the only downside to the atmosphere and feel of yesteryear, was the constant staccato sounds of tubas and accordions that blurted out from the little white discs from hell mounted on the ceiling.

This place is small and can get quite busy during prime meal hours, so if you don't like patrons that are waiting for a seat to salivate all over themselves while watching you eat your homemade meal, you may want to take a seat on the edges of the dining room or come in just before or after prime times.

You can judge the quality of the ingredients used in an establishment by the quality of the condiments on the tables. Polonia Cafe not only has the Smucker's jams and jellies, but they also provide the flavored International Delights creamers right at the table. The food that was delivered reflects the quality ingredients that are used and was perfectly cooked and quite flavorful with a hint of a seasoned cast iron. No salt was needed and I enjoyed every bite! 

I hope everyone that reads this post (both of you, thanks) will give this little gem in the midst of  Portage County and the Polish Heritage Highway a try to help support the local Polish community. Perhaps, together, we can finally put to rest the playground like bullying that has suppressed these great people and the Poles can finally stand erect. With a little work and a stroke of luck, there can be an erect Pole in all of us!

Foodie Quickie @ Solea - Appleton WI

The apparent bastard child of an illegal Mexican and a Polish immigrant, Solea delivers a bland selection of nondescript food lacking in personality, flavor, and distinction that evokes anyone with a pallet, not made of wood and stacked in a rodent infested warehouse, to cry out in pain and wonder if they had somehow traveled back to their infancy glued in to an out-of-date car seat strapped to a Flux Capacitor and were, in fact, eating an old jar of Gerber Squash (have you ever tried that stuff? Ewe!). Whereas, the Mexican side of the equation works hard to fill your need for sustenance with beans, rice and meat but forgot to bring the cumin along for good measure, the Polish side just sits there and wonders what to do and why their friendly one-armed cousin just fell out of a tree! The lack of flavor left my own pallet feeling lonely and completely disregarded by the entire student body . . . just like Jr. high school gym class. 

Casa Mexicana - Rhinelander WI

Date of Visit: 3-26-2012

Time of Visit: 11:40 AM

Pebble Score:

If you've never dropped a hit of acid (LSD), you have no idea what you're missing! Acid trips impart a consciousnesses expansion unequaled by any fermented hops you've ever drank, sniffed, injected or smoked! Colors become infinitely more vivid even though you have your eyes closed; the sunlight sluicing down through the churning wheels of existence imparts euphoria Irish Setters enjoy riding in cages atop their masters' station wagons, and heralds of angelic hymns chanting the mournful sounds of every human voice on earth cause you to rejoice at the beauty that is reality. Oh yea, and the spider plant in the corner of the room crawls up the ceiling, down the wall, sits on your shoulder and says, "Whasssuuuuup?!"

LSD is better known as lysergic acid diethylamide by the Mormon community and therefore is not legal to consume in any state other than Utah or by anyone not related to, or copulating with, Mitt Romney (they could be two different things, just saying). I know some of you are shocked right now and, by all rights, you should be. You might think I am way off base here and there is absolutely no correlation between LSD and the Mormon faith but, as proof of my assumptions, I give you LDS. Both LSD and LDS can be easily explained by DySLexia. DySLexia is described as a "learning disorder marked by impairment of the ability to recognize and comprehend written words". In other words . . .  you're trippin', dude!

My latest trip involved an impromptu stop at the all new Casa Mexicana in Rhinelander, Wisconsin. Rhinelander, where the women aren't the only things known as Hodags! Hey, that's pretty good! Maybe I can market that motto the the chamber of commerce and we can sell bumper stickers and logo condoms. Who's with me?

Anyway, as you walk into Casa Mexicana, you are transported into a menagerie of colors and sounds very reminiscent of an acid trip. There is a neon-like glow in the whole place with more colors inside than a 124 count box of Crayola! You can't help but admire the work and creativeness that went into the design and execution of the decor. The seating was plentiful. Sophia, our server, was friendly and attentive and joked around a bit but never hovered (that's a good thing!).  

I ordered the chicken burrito with rice and beans even though I knew the refrieds would pay a second visit later in the day. The herbaceous salsa had only a very slight heat with a fresh taste and went well with the bottomless chips. Since most Mexican restaurants in the Northern U.S. pre-cook much of their ingredients, I did not have to wait long for my lunch.   The burrito was as expected with sour cream, fresh lettuce, and tomatoes. The chicken filling was quite tender and was actually all chicken without any fillers like large chunks of onions and peppers as I have experienced in other restaurants. Seasoning for the filling was a little more subtle than I like; you could pick out the little bit of pepper and cumin but I thought it lacked a little salt. The rice and the beans were quite typical for the region and, much like sex with your long time spouse, there were no surprises with regards to the flavors or mouth-feel. 

My Chicken Burrito

My lunch partner's enchiladas

Overall, the service was good, the decor was quite loud and touristy, and the food was good but not great. Not a bad little spot for all of the local Hodags to frequent.

So, if you find yourself in need of a psychedelic trip through the poppies but are paranoid about the side effects, cost, or legality of taking acid, then you can either take a trip to Utah, renounce your current faith and join the LDS church, support Mitt, or simply dine at the Casa Mexicana in Rhineander, Wisconsin.

Frontier Restaurant - Amherst WI

Date of Visit: 3-25-2012

Time of Visit: 10:00 AM

Pebble Score:

Legends in Central Wisconsin have long told of the first hardy settlers in the area and how they drove their dairy herds from the Southern plains all the way up to the richest milking lands in the country. From Holsteins and their non-prejudistic black and white spots, to Jerseys with "R" pronunciation impediments, the majestic herds drove on through the rain, sleet, snow and darkness of night until they reached the lush and fertile grounds of the promised land. Although the journey was beset with difficulties, the settlers were instrumental in laying down the first building blocks of what is now the greatest cheese and butter producing region in the country. 

The cows were so happy that they rewarded the people with milk so rich in cream that the only thing to do was to make a pound of butter for each and every inhabitant in the area. This land was the frontier to butter giant Land-O-Lakes and paved the way for that cute little squaw on their butter package that if you fold the picture just right and cut out the top of her blouse, it looks like her breasts are hanging out!

After years of stockpiling butter instead of nuclear warheads, and an unfortunate event where the dairy section of the food pyramid became a side note on the new "food plate", a new avenue for butter consumption had to be found or we would risk sliding into a recession worse than the one that befell gyros. Luckily, restaurateurs across the nation heeded the call of the wild and have collectively managed to keep dairy farmers in Wisconsin operational. Now, any new charge must have a leader, and the restaurant leading the charge for butter consumption in the country is the Frontier Restaurant in Amherst, Wisconsin. 

I had the opportunity to visit this restaurant for breakfast on a beautiful Saturday morning where everyone, it appeared, was there to ensure I had the most wonderful eating experience of my existence. . . they failed. When a place is busy, I always expect a bit slower service and don't fault the staff, but personality is another story. Tina greeted us with the exuberance of an ocean tube worm and I could tell right away we were sliding off the borderline in a hurry! 

The decor was predominantly country and I found myself surrounded by wood. The tongue in groove kind and a host of other. We ordered at 10:11 am. I happily requested the 8-ounce chopped steak, over easy eggs, hash browns and home-made raisin toast, while my breakfast companion opted for the bacon and eggs plate. The drinks arrived six minutes later (that's 10:17 for those that can't add very fast) and then the food came at 10:33 a full 22 minutes after we ordered it. 

My egg whites had the consistency of a dried out Trojan, the steak was overcooked but was still juicy and had great grill marks with a small amount of seasoning. Too little for my taste. My companion's eggs were omelet like and were accompanied by tough bacon. Now I was out of coffee. I pushed my hash browns to the side and instantly regretted the move. The rush of butter to the center of my plate must have created an imbalance in the space time continuum and I instantly understood why everyone in town was here . . . to save the cows! 

My home made raisin toast, which I had been looking forward to trying, suffered a similar fate as the hash browns. I picked it up and managed to squeeze out about a teaspoon full of the oleo from each slice! Needless to say, I did not eat most of my breakfast. Tina asked me if I wanted a box to take home my leftovers, but I politely declined as I feared a return of the Blob and I knew Steve McQueen wouldn't be there to pull me out!

Ghee, even though my experience with the Frontier Restaurant and their eternal  stick-of-slick was not to my liking, there are many other folks who enjoy the establishment, so who am I to spread any ill feelings? Try them for yourself. I now wish I had taken that box from Tina because I am planning a trip to Mexico, and if I get a sunburn, I know I will hear my mother say, "Just put some butter on it!"