How to eat a bratwurst. In Sheboygan, there are rules. You can have it as a single brat or a double. God forbid anyone who serves you a double on separate buns. Never call it a "sausage". You'll just end up with a side of eggs by accidentally.
You sit down at the local dining establishment, and it would be reasonable to expect to be told where the meat was made. Bill's Cafe gets their's from the old market down on twelfth who makes theirs extra peppery. Others get's theirs from Johnsonville. Half the homes in town quietly grill their Old Wisconsin brats. My personal preference is Uttinger's from Milwaukee. But any local Sheboygan serious brat establishment who can afford it will get theirs from Meisfield's. For some reason, perhaps because it's from the butcher itself, there is that aura of an extra touch of magic or love.
Gaelle and I walk into Schultz's on Calumet. The window says, "Cash only." The exterior is painted brick - a numbing light blue shade. The graphics is the illustration of a guy shoving a sandwich down his throat. I have driven passed it on the way out north, on the way back south. I've driven up to it nervously in the past only to be rejected by the "Cash only" sign. There are always cars there. That's got to mean something. So I asked Gaelle how seriously she truly was, how committed she really was, to our endeavor of penetrating the Sheboygan underground. So we ventured, two loud out of towners into the dining church of Sheboygan culinary lifestyle.
We entered and were greeted by a wall of quiet. People quietly hunched over their meals. You can almost hear their chewing. Slow, methodical, pansive, quiet .... seemingly miserable chewing. No eye contact. A very interesting aspect of Sheboygan dining culture. On the menu was a history of Schultz's. A very old establishment with a great deal of interesting history with notable recognition. Gaelle and I breezed through the appetizer section and our attention were both caught by their offering of fried cauliflour. I have recently discovered a dozen interesting ways to cook and eat this simple vegetable. I ordered the pulled pork sandwich. Gaelle, the obligatory brat sandwich. They get their's from Meisfield's. Okay, we are impressed.
Behind us is the open kitchen, comprising nearly solely of a charcoal grill. The cook throws a flat brat patty on and begins to shovel the coal around to change up the heat. Minutes go by and a lot of conversation catching up on our lives. We were the only one talking so our voices carried throughout. The owner seemed delighted over our buzzing excitement about food in general and the vivacious tone taken over the restaurant. Others around us, parents and children, friends and family, peek over occassionally to put faces to the voices.
Gaelle whispers to me, "You notice something Mandy?" "No, what?" "There's no utensils. Anywhere". That's true. Not only are there no utensils on our table, there were none for the other diners either. The sandwiches arrive wrapped in paper, placed on the table. I don't remember if we even received a plate with the sandwiches. The cauliflour did arrive on a plate. We ate it by hand. I don't know if it's just Sheboygan culture, as reflected here, exemplifying puritanical eastern european sense of austerity in the most stripped down sense, but neither Gaelle and I felt like we were supposed to enjoy our food. That we had been breaking the rules all this time and now it is time to pay in repentence by unwrapping our sandwiches and eating them quietly, hunched over.
The sandwiches were plain. Meat in Sheboygan hard roll with the pickles we asked for. Gaelle took her first bite apprehensive of pending doom or misery but responded rather with shock. Her face lit up with unexpected surprise. She handed me a piece. It was as though fireworks exploded in our mouths, reminding me of the old Coca Cola 1984 commercial of the olympian tearing through an old Russian propoganda movie screen. The brat, without the casing, exposing seasoned meat, caramelized over slow grilling, melding with the fatty juices of the pork fat, resulting in a browned sweetness similar to that wonderful flavor of korean bbq meat. The juices flowing and soaking into the fresh Sheboygan roll. My bbq pork sandwich was also deliciously tender, meaty, sweet and savory and juicey. I felt indignent for the food that people should eat in such solemness with this level of flavor in their mouths. It was shocking.
We polished off our plate of cauliflour but had to add extra salt. Well executed, but a little bland in flavor. Could have used sauce. A complete contrast from breaded fried food in the south. I don't understand the contrast of cultures, so severe, between parts of the United States.
With full, but confused stomaches, Gaelle and I wrapped things up, leaving as quietly as we entered. Definitely a "very Sheboygan" restaurant. Would we come back again? Yes, for sure the quality and flavor of the food would keep us craving more. The price was more affordable than a McDonald's Big Mac. The owner was very warm, sweet and welcoming. The company...well you'll need to provide your own good company.
