Madison Summer Needs Michael’s Frozen Custard
The first time I went to Michael’s Frozen Custard in Madison, Wisconsin was before I started writing this blog. At the time, I thought frozen custard was the same as soft-serve. I was soon set straight. While it bears some textural resemblance to this more-common cousin, frozen custard is made with egg yolks. So is it ice cream? Not exactly. According to the FDA, something marketed as frozen custard must contain at least 10% milkfat and 1.4% egg yolk solids. Anything less, and it’s ice cream. The result is a thick, rich, sweet substance, softer than ice cream and denser than soft serve. While it apparently started in Coney Island, frozen custard is a big deal in Wisconsin, where it is also the specialty at the legendary Kopp’s in Milwaukee. Open since 1986, Michael’s is a Madison institution. It seemed wrong that it wasn’t in the annals of The Mango Lassie, so I managed to convince a large group of my in-laws to go there while I was in Madison last weekend. (Not exactly a herculean effort.)
Our 21-person group (Empanada Boy has a lot of siblings, and they have a lot of kids) had spent the hot afternoon paddling rented kayaks, canoes and paddle boards on Wingra Lake. The 13 of us who didn’t need to return home for a nap, tromped across the sun-soaked field and went through the fence toward the red-and-white-striped umbrellas of Michael’s. Seating here is only outside, and all ordering is done at the window. Custard is the specialty, but Michael’s also serves savory food, which many of us decided to eat beforehand. EB and I both got Chicago dogs, which were topped with the requisite onions, tomato slices, pickle wedges and relish. (Spicy sport peppers were provided on request.) These were decent, but as should be expected by anyone ordering a Chicago dog outside of the Windy City, they weren’t quite up to the standards of the real thing. This was mostly because the dogs themselves were made by Red Hot Chicago, a Chicago company, but one whose seasoning is slightly inferior to the gold-standard Vienna Beef. EB also got some pretty tasty fried onions.
After we finished our dogs, burgers and very salty fries, we filed back up to the window to order our second course. Some ordered what they always do. My sister-in-law, Cerealla ordered her longtime favorite Mississippi Mud: vanilla custard topped with pecans, Oreos and coffee and drizzled with chocolate syrup. My niece, Linguine ordered the classic Turtle Sundae: vanilla custard with pecans, chocolate syrup and caramel syrup. Her sister Vegetable Queen ordered a simpler option, which was basically the Turtle sans pecans. (All sundaes come with a maraschino cherry.) My nephew Lobster Bisque ordered a cookie dough sundae, which came doused in chocolate sauce and smattered with perfect pebbles of dough. Peanut Butter Fudge Cake, one of the flavors of the day, swayed EB from his usual order. (My niece, the Reading Corndog also ordered it.) It was a truly decadent affair: vanilla custard, topped with a mouth-coating peanut butter sauce and chunks of chocolate cake. I took one bite and wondered whether I could even finish one. EB ordered a medium because it was a special (only $4.99!) and didn’t remember that a medium at Michael’s is positively enormous.
Even a small is huge, as I found out while eating my selection, the Muddy Banana: vanilla custard with chocolate syrup, Oreos and banana slices. Maraschino discarded, I dug into the rich, creamy sundae and quickly began to take note of the speed with which custard fills the stomach. It was like a banana split on steroids. By the time I had finished, I felt ready to roll away. EB, his sister Sous Chef and I decided to walk home, unable to face the thought of even bending our bodies enough to sit down in the car.
I thought I would never feel hungry again, but, of course, I did. Later that night, we went out for dinner at the Caribbean restaurant Jolly Bob’s (good drinks and atmosphere, unremarkable food). After dinner, Drumstix, Popcorn Princess, Cerealla, Croque Monsieur, EB and I went out for a drink at Vintage Brewing Company, a relatively new spot, focusing on European-style beers. We sat at a cozy booth with a view of the steel beer-making tanks over the back and a view of the eleventh-hour debt ceiling negotiations on the television monitors above the bar in front of us. We each ordered a different one, except for EB who couldn’t decide and ordered a flight. The Summer Sahti, my selection, was a delicious brew made in the Finnish style. It had a foundation of rye with hints of juniper berry in the finish and was quite refreshing.
Having eaten a hot dog (admittedly not a brat) and frozen custard and tried a delicious new beer, I felt like my long weekend in Madison had largely fulfilled my culinary aspirations for it. I could head back to New York with enough signature Midwestern flavors in my taste memory to tied me over until next time.
Michael’s Frozen Custard
2531 Monroe St.
Madison, WI 53711
Vintage Brewing Company
674 S. Whitney Way
Madison, WI 53711
608.204.2739
There are no taquerias to speak of in New York. By taquerias, I don’t mean taco restaurants dolled up with Dia de los Muertos decor and run by a hipster gringo chef. New York has its fair share of those. No, I’m talking about the authentic little holes-in-the-wall that used to be favored stomping grounds for Empanada Boy and me when we lived in Chicago. These did not have fancy decor. For the most part, they didn’t even have table service at all. What they did have was fresh corn tortillas, house-made chorizo, fresh horchata and marinated pork spinning on a spit for tacos al pastor. The flavors were authentic because there was no pretense to the operation. Mexican people were their primary customers, and there was no reason to be unconventional, only the best at evoking the flavors of home. 
Of course, we all ordered tacos, but I could tell I was going to like the place when I tasted their salsas. There were two different varieties, a salsa verde and another tomato-based one. Neither of them held back on the heat. This was obviously not a restaurant that catered to gringos, although there were a number of us there. 
Everything was fresh and vibrant. Hamentaschen, EB and I happily chowed down, devouring everything on our plates. These were the flavors we had been missing!
Empanada Boy and I went to Madison the weekend before last, ostensibly for him to play a gig at his brother Drumstix’s law firm function. Little did EB know, but Drumstix had cooked up an elaborate scheme to surprise him with a bachelor party. The party was at one of the increasingly popular Brazilian steakhouses where you pay a flat fee and then chow down on as much grilled, skewered meat as possible. The flowing taps at the Union Terrace at the University of Wisconsin, numerous drinks purchased for him by friends, a stop at another bar and a beer-filled hotel room made for a drunken night for EB. The morning left him feeling pretty worn out and ready to swear off bachelorhood forever. And what better place to cure his hangover than an old-time diner specializing in traditional breakfast fare, including giant pancakes, sweet rolls, milkshakes and malts? Popcorn Princess, Milkman and I met him and Drumstix at 
Mickie’s is something of a madhouse on a weekend morning, with many a college student working off the evening before just as EB was trying to do. We were able to get a good seat, though, in one of the tight little booths with Formica topped tables installed around the open kitchen area. The frying and grilling is all done behind the scenes, but ice cream, coffee and milkshakes are doled out from this central ring. Mickie’s is not the best place to visit when you’re on a pre-wedding diet (and EB never lost track of this overriding goal even in the thick of his Brazilian feast), so EB and I decided to share. Together, we ate two tasty sunny-side-up eggs with toast and well-seasoned potatoes, with a side order of corned beef hash. I’m including a picture of the latter here, despite its brown, lumpy appearance, to demonstrate my main beef with it— namely, that there was not enough beef. The corned beef hash was weighed down by too much potato, making it starchy and less juicy than my favorite hash at O’Rourke’s in Middletown, CT. 
Popcorn Princess ordered an omelet that looked like it took four eggs to make. It came with toast and potatoes. She couldn’t resist a side slice of the blueberry crumble coffee cake that was being dished up from a huge sheet pan from the central station. Drumstix ordered a rather compact looking breakfast sandwich— meat, egg and cheese on an English muffin.
The May issue of Gourmet magazine was all about cooking schools around the world. One of the schools was in Laos, and the blurb about it said that Laotian food can be distinguished from Thai food by its heavier use of herbs, and its more bitter, less sweet profile. I knew I had tasted dishes at places like 
The smaller, original location isn’t open on Sunday nights, but EMP says he likes it for its intimacy. We were limited to the larger spot, which is perfectly pleasant. It was also completely packed when we arrived. We waited at the bar for a while and sampled a Laotian beer, fittingly called Beer Lao. It had more substance than many of the mass-produced Asian beers I’ve tried, and it hit the spot. We finally got a table about half an hour later and were able to order our food. The service was pretty slow from here on out, but delicious food greatly diminishes such concerns. In an attempt to get at the heart of Laotian cuisine and put the bitter vs. sweet question to a test, I decided to order one of the “House Specialties.” The description focused on the side salad— made with unripe papaya, dried shrimp and chili peppers— so much that I thought is was the main component of the dish. But when it arrived, I was surprised to find the chicken leg piece dominating the plate with a green papaya salad on the side. I was surprised, but I was not disappointed. The chicken had wonderful, crackly, spice-laden skin, recalling some of the chicken I tried at Pok Pok. The meat beneath it was a little dry, but the depth of flavor kept me interested. The accompanying papaya salad was bright with tangy fish sauce and vibrantly spicy. I had ordered it “adventurous” on the restaurant’s spicy scale, just one step below “native.” 
Empanada Boy tried another choice from the list of specialties. His was a catfish filet coated in dill and a little spicy chili and cooked in a banana leaf. It came with a spicy-sweet dipping sauce and steamed vegetables. The fish was incredibly moist and flavorful when he unwrapped it. The dill played a significant role, but there must have been something else giving it an extra layer of flavor. Perhaps it was the banana leaf itself. The steamed vegetables were a somewhat boring side note, but the fish was superb, dipped in a little of the sauce and eaten with a bite of sticky rice. 
English Muffin Pizza ordered something different from what he’d had the night before. It was a peanut curry with sweet pineapple and tofu. The flavors were interesting, but not as complex as either of the other two dishes. I also found the peanut and pineapple combination to be a little too rich and a little too sweet. It needed more spice or more of the tang that comes from fish sauce or bitter herbs. This dish was similar to the curries I’ve tried at many a Thai restaurant and seemed to be more oriented toward flavors that appeal to an American palate. 
Empanada Boy and I went to Madison after work on Saturday (yes, we both had to work) to meet his new nephew. Popcorn Princess and Drumstix had their first child on Thursday, and we couldn’t wait to meet him. It was also my first time meeting EB’s new niece who was born a little more than a week earlier to his sister French Vanilla and her husband Beer-Boiled Brat. It was baby city in the Empanada family! I was proud to accompany the younger of the two cousins to his first restaurant. Feeling like some warm, flavorful food, EB, Popcorn Princess, Drumstix and I took him to the family favorite 
EB, Popcorn and Drumstix started things off with delicious Thai iced coffees enriched with sweetened condensed milk. EB commented on how difficult it was to keep any of his in the glass until the food arrived. But when the food did come, it immediately took center stage. EB and I have been seriously into Asian soups lately. We stuck to that trend, ordering what turned out to be some of the most flavorful and varied soups I’ve tried. My selection (pictured here) was Suki-num. It was a clear broth spiced with the traditional soy-chili Suki sauce. Floating in the broth were translucent mung bean noodles and beautiful slices of celery, bok choy, Napa cabbage and green onion. An egg dropped in and cooked by the hot broth added excellent texture and depth of flavor. I chose shrimp as my other optional protein. Empanada Boy’s Tom Ka soup was made with a chili-spiced coconut milk broth. It had fragrant lemongrass, galanga and cilantro along with earthy sliced mushrooms. He selected calamari to be added to the mix. These marvelously complex soups were the perfect thing on that grey day. Needless to say, EB and I almost finished every last drop.
Sa-Bai Thong is also known for its curries, which Popcorn Princess and Drumstix say they can almost never avoid ordering when they come. PP’s order shown here is called Pa-Naeng. It is a bold red curry mixed with peanut sauce zucchini, peas and pleasantly firm tofu. Chicken and shrimp are also options. Drumstix ordered another vibrant vegetable curry with a creamier texture and the same fluffy tofu. 
Madison, Wisconsin was the place to be this weekend, or so Empanada Boy and I determined. We decided to drive up after hearing that Drumstix and Popcorn Princess were having a shower for the upcoming arrival of their first child, Herbert. We also took the opportunity to catch up with EB’s friends Po’boy and Milkmaid.
Like Voodoo Doughnuts, the Greenbush Bakery is open late— until 3 a.m. on Saturday nights. Unlike Voodoo, there was no crowd of drunk hipsters waiting on line outside. In fact, we were the only ones there. One thing that automatically makes the Greenbush unique is the fact that it’s kosher. This fact is advertised all over the restaurant. Another major selling point is the fact that all doughnuts are fried in trans fat-free oil. 
Po’boy and EB ordered Oreo doughnuts, fittingly made with cream fillings. I found these overly decadent and a little disgusting. EB loved them and pronounced them better than those he’d raved so much about at Voodoo. We also tried a maple-glazed round and an un-doughnut-like apple pie thing.
I accompanied Empanada Boy up to Madison again this weekend. After a pleasant weekend with EB’s family, almost everyone had plans on Sunday evening. But EB’s brother Rocky Roccoco— hereon after to be known as Drumstix— had some free time and wanted to redeem himself after his earlier, 
Empanada Boy and Drumstix both insisted that the thing to order was the parillada, an assortment of meats grilled on a charcoal grill and then served on a platter atop a gas flame. (Drumstix doesn’t usually get to order it because he’s married to a vegetarian.) It’s traditional in Central Mexico and in meat-loving countries like Argentina and Peru. The name comes from the Spanish word parilla, which means a charcoal grill. We got the small, which was more than enough for three. It came with ribs, carne asada and chorizo. Mixed in were sweet grilled onions, crispy green onions, thin disks of potato and a large chile de arbol. A basket of corn and flour tortillas came alongside in addition to a platter of beans, rice guacamole and pico de gallo. 
This feast would have been enough, but Empanada Boy couldn’t resist ordering his favorite chile relleno. La Hacienda’s offering was a surprisingly tasty one. The battered exterior was light and flaky, and the stuffing was made with an excellent, stretchy Mexican melting cheese like Chihuahua. La Hacienda’s chile relleno was far superior to the one we tried in 
Empanada Boy and I drove up to Madison after work on July 3. We were planning to ride up to EB’s family home in Eagle River with Tofuti Cutie, Popover and Popcorn Princess the next day. That morning all five of us— plus two dogs— piled into EB’s parents’ old van, which was towing a trailer full of motorcycles and bikes. The first sign of danger to come came when we stopped for gas and the van failed to start up again. We got a jump and were on our way back to switch cars when all the systems in the van began to fail, one by one. The alternator had given way. Tofuti masterfully conducted the car to the side of the road, and we called AAA. While we were waiting, a car miraculously pulled over and out jumped a guy who knew all about fixing cars who said he could get us a new part, install it and have us back on the road in a couple hours. (Only in Wisconsin!!!) Popover decided to take a chance on him. And we opted to pass the time by meeting Rocky Rococo for lunch at 
The Old Fashioned gets its name from the brandy-based drink that is typical in Wisconsin’s North Woods. The restaurant’s menu is supposedly shaped around the state’s most traditional food and drink, but it seemed pretty similar to the fare at many of the country’s better gastropubs. I was pleased at the use of seasonal ingredients as in the delicious cold beet soup (pictured above) and in my lovely beet salad with Gorgonzola.
The cheese on my salad was made in Wisconsin, but the most typical Wisconsin dish at our table was probably the grilled cheese sandwich that Rocky and Popover ordered. It came with local cheddar and Swiss cheeses, roasted red pepper and bacon. Cheese was the theme that linked Empanada Boy’s order to the rest of ours. His shaved prime rib sandwich came topped with a thick slice of local aged white cheddar.
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