My wife and I went to a fish fry tonight. There’s a bar at the end of our block. We go once a year (that will be increasing) to have dinner there, as they have a really good Lenten fish fry. Crispy fish and decent french fries with a loose cole slaw. Mighty fine with a Diet Coke and a couple of lemon wedges.
On the walk home I thought about the best fish fries in my life – Appleton, Wisconsin and my grandmother’s place. The joint we went to had a lot of names over the years, but it was probably best known as “Bleier’s” by the locals. Might still be for all I know.
It had been owned by Rocky Bleier. Rocky was an amazing fellow and his story is well worth reading *(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocky_Bleier)* when you have a moment. The bar was there a long time and his family owned the place, http://www.classicwisconsin.com/fishfrys/damned.htm but it was sold long ago. In my day it was the place were you called in the order and then sat in the lobby with all the other customers waiting for your order to come out. There was a bar there and the adults would knock back a cold one while they waited. It was worth the wait.
You’d get it back to Grandma’s and the kids would rush the table. The adults did the same thing. There was a frenzy as the packages were unloaded and fries and fish spread about the table. Little cups of tartar sauce and packages of ketchup for the fries. The bag was so greasy you could almost see through it by the time you’d driven the 8 blocks or so to where she was living (she never moved very far out of that part of town. I’m the same way now. Guess it’s a family trait.)
After dinner there’d be icecream or popsicles. I still think it was the best darned fish dinner around.
My final trip was almost thirty years ago. I’d gone up to visit my grandmother before I went into the service. We went to have dinner on a Friday night. I was kind of shocked when my grandmother ordered a beer and knocked it back with her fish. She laughed at the expression on my face. I guess it was kind of silly to even be shocked. She lived life to the fullest and made it to 96 years of age. A beer and some fish were no doubt part of the formula.
Now, at past the 1/2 way point in my own life, I’m enjoying those memories of years ago. The smell of fish and fries, the greasy paper bag and the family all together for dinner on a summer’s evening in Appleton. We can’t go back to those times, but it sure is wonderful to have them with us in our memories.
Maybe next week I’ll order a beer and let it sit on the table for Margaret. I think she’d like that.
