I was dreaming of tender boiled whitefish as we drove up on Thursday night with EB’s brother and sister-in-law, Rocky Rococo and Popcorn Princess, and their dog Toshi. It was near midnight when we pulled into the Harbor House Inn, a quaint little bed and breakfast in Gills Rock. The inn’s main office is shaped like a lighthouse.

We slept in the Danish Cottage, which had its own kitchen and two separate apartments. When I got up the next morning and came outside, I saw Green Bay sloshing at its banks just across the main drag.

Breakfast at the Harbor House was waffles with slightly sweetened, pitted Door County cherries (a theme for the weekend). I am not usually fond of cherries unless they are fresh off the tree, but these retained a pleasant tartness and had none of the cloying, syrupy, sweetness that I associate with preserved cherries. There were also blueberry muffins and mini cherry scones—more the size and consistency of cookies— which tasted like a stick of butter with some flour wrapped around it. In other words: delicious.

Dinner that night elucidates my real reasons for wanting to visit Door County: the fish boil. Fish boils are a culinary tradition unique to Northern Wisconsin. About 50 lbs. of whitefish and 150 new potatoes are cooked in a large pot of salted water over an open fire. Throughout the many hours of cooking time, the fish boil master occasionally douses the flames with a splash of kerosene, sending a shock of heat up into the pot. At the very end of the process, with all the diners gathered around, he gives the fire a larger dose. This time it’s enough to send the whole pot up in flames, causing all the water to boil out.

After reading an article by Jane and Michael Stern in the July issue of Gourmet magazine about fish boils at the White Gull Inn in Fish Creek, I decided to make a reservation there. Luckily I called two weeks in advance because one of the three seatings for the evening was already booked solid. Watching the procedure at the White Gull was just as spectacular as it sounds. This place has been open since 1896, and tradition runs deep. The fish boil master performed his duty with a practiced hand, tossing the kerosene with one hand as he expounded on the fish boil process to the crowd of waiting diners. When I asked him how long he’d been doing this he said straight-faced: “Today’s my first day.”

After the boil-over we went inside and got in line. Servers gave each diner two fish steaks and three boiled new potatoes. Condiments for fish included a tartar sauce, lemon and melted butter. We carried our plates back to our assigned table where a tangy coleslaw and a variety of sweet, cake-like breads awaited us. An accordionist played in the background as we scarfed down the tender fish. It was incredibly flavorful for having only been cooked with salt. The potatoes took on some of the fish flavor, but they were also remarkably simple in their preparation. This is the kind of basic, hearty food that could only be served in the Midwest.

We all had seconds on fish or potatoes or both. Empanada Boy was a fan of the potatoes. He found himself in a showdown with the last one after the rest of us had finished stuffing ourselves. As it sat there, daring him to finish it off, the waitress thankfully came to clear our plates. Dessert was cherry pie, which I found too sweet and jelly-like in texture. That was probably for the best because there wasn’t much room left in my stomach.

If the fish boil sounds heavy, it was nothing compared to the traditional Swedish food we ate the next night at Al Johnson’s in Sister Bay. Housed in a quaint cottage-like building with grass growing on the roof (goats graze up there in the warmer months), Al Johnson’s is kitsch to the max. Diners are greeted with a gift shop selling Swedish foods and clothing and waitresses are dressed in traditional Swedish garb. The menu is a mix of hearty Swedish dishes and American classics like burgers and onion rings.

We started off our meal with pickled herring, a favorite of Empanada Boy and myself. Popcorn Princess isn’t a fan of pickled anything, so we ordered some onion rings as well. The pickled herring had that delightful balance of sweet and salty that makes it so addictive. We ate it on limpa bread (Swedish rye) and crackers. My entree was a roast beef hash with large chunks of meat and potato, topped with a fried egg and accompanied by pickled beets. It was tasty but far too much food to eat in a sitting. Empanada Boy tried the gravy-doused Swedish meatballs and Popcorn Princess opted for Atlantic salmon. The biggest surprise was Rocky’s dish, which was billed as a hot pork sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy. When it arrived, it looked more like a pork chop with mashed potatoes and gravy, although the waitress assured us that there was bread underneath. The food was satisfying, but excruciatingly heavy and somewhat colorless. Nonetheless, the over-the-top decor, the lively tourist atmosphere and the delightfully unpretentious menu made it all worthwhile.

On our way back to Madison the next day we stopped at Seaquist Orchards Farm Market in Sister Bay. EB and I stocked up on a large frozen tub of those slightly sweetened pitted cherries. He says he plans to make me some waffles with cherries for breakfast next weekend. We also bought dried cherries and some tasty Cortland apples. EB and Popcorn Princess bought bags of popcorn for the ride home.

Further down the road aways we pulled over at Lautenbach’s Orchard Country Winery for a tasting. For the most part these wines were all pretty foul, but I found some redeeming qualities in the tart cherry wine. It was surprisingly true to the fruit and much more palatable than the weak merlots and rieslings. We bought a bottle along with some Wisconsin maple syrup.

The final food stop on this trip is barely worth mentioning. Empanada Boy and Rocky have a nostalgic affection for Rocky Rococo’s pizza (hence Rocky’s name). Rocky pulled off at one on the highway and we got some pizza. Needless to say, I was disappointed. This pizza is on the same rung as a Little Caesar’s in my book— greasy, with cheap ingredients and a flavorless, bready, insubstantial crust. Rocky will have to redeem himself with his next restaurant selection.

Empanada Boy and I returned home feeling full, a feeling that we realized had never left us throughout the entire weekend. Time to get back to the exercise bike so I can enjoy more of those cherry-topped waffles next weekend.

Harbor House Inn
12666 Hwy. 42
Gills Rock, WI 54210
920.854.5196

White Gull Inn
4225 Main St.
Fish Creek, WI 54212
888.364.9542

Al Johnson’s Swedish Restaurant
700 Bay Shore Drive
Sister Bay, WI 54234
800.241.9914

Seaquist Orchards Farm Market
11482 Hwy. 42
Sister Bay, WI 54234
920.854.4199

Launtenbach’s Orchard Country Winery
9197 Hwy. 42
Fish Creek, WI 54212
920.868.3479

Rocky Rococo (various locations)
2331 Velp Ave.
Green Bay, WI 54303
920.434.1095