Jeff Oloizia loves a fish fry, approaching each one like it’s a gift. And for him, it is. The Madison-based writer spent part of his life avoiding fish, due to an allergy he has since grown out of, he says. Now he’s embraced this hallowed Wisconsin foodway with gusto.
Inspired by his yearlong reporting fellowship on the impact of climate change on our fry tradition (we’ll report back when the results are in), Oloizia embarked on a quest – an odyssey – to visit as many Wisconsin fish fries as he can in a year and chronicle the journey. That’s how his Instagram page The Codyssey came to be.
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He writes his social media fry reviews in the lyrical voice of mythic Greek hero Odysseus (from Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey – get it?). It’s a fun literary device – each fry is rated on a scale of one to five tridents (Poseidon’s three-pronged spear).
But Oloizia takes this side project seriously and has a four-pronged formula for what makes a fry sing: golden, lightly breaded fish (bonus point if it’s walleye); a light, bright vinegar-based coleslaw; a tartar sauce with balanced acidity and tang; and while a nice potato pancake is appreciated, he’s a “sucker for an unexpected side.”
Here, Oloizia offers four notable dispatches from his fish fry travels, plus his very favorite in all of Wisconsin.
The Codyssey
BY: JEFF OLOIZIA
5 O’Clock Club
N28 W26658 PETERSON DR., PEWAUKEE
At this storied lakeside tavern (not related to the Milwaukee steakhouse of the same name), the smell hits you before you’ve fully arrived. Inside, the setting – wood trim, taxidermy, signed Packers memorabilia in the restrooms – works quietly, patiently. Like Odysseus lingering on a friendly shore, you don’t notice when resistance gives way to routine. The coleslaw and rye bread arrive not as accompaniment but as initiation. The slaw is cold and faintly sweet; the bread soft and aromatic. Then comes the perch ($24), golden and dependable, with crinkle-cut fries in tow. Nothing here chases novelty or perfection. Some places seek glory. The 5 O’Clock Club has mastered something harder: consistency.
Alioto’s
3041 N. MAYFAIR RD., WAUWATOSA
Would a sensible traveler choose a fish fry based solely on its tartar sauce? If your answer is no, you may not yet have crossed the threshold of Alioto’s. This house, whose lineage stretches back to 1923, serves mild, flaky lake perch ($19), fork-tender red potatoes, and a tartar so jeweled with chopped pickles it could be mistaken for treasure dredged from a sea nymph’s larder. During my visit, owner Tom Warren offered a tale: In the 1960s, two young waitresses stole the recipe from their mother, a keeper of secrets at the long-gone Simon House. A tartar sauce worthy of thievery? Praise the gods!
Von Trier
2235 N. FARWELL AVE.
If fish fry were my last meal, I’d want the setting to be this: beneath the wrought-iron-and-antler chandelier at Von Trier, by candlelight, a waltz ferrying me along. This is a dinner built for hard winters and harder drinking, meant to put hair on your chest and a dirndl around your waist. Beer-battered cod ($16) is the lone offering. Those in the know pair it with buttery spaetzle: a modest upcharge, richly rewarded. Lore has it that a tyrant who thought himself Zeus once ruled the bar, until his reign came to an abrupt and infamous end. These days, the rule is gentler, but the pleasures are no less enduring.
The Gingerbread House
S63 W16147 COLLEGE AVE., MUSKEGO
Inside this 1885 farmstead, corners bloom with curios, shelves sag with bric-a-brac, and the warm smell of cinnamon and nutmeg from the in-house bakery fills the air. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’ve strayed from the realm of Homer into the darker woods of Grimm. But this is no fairy-tale diversion – the fry is serious here. Perch ($21) is the move: either beer-battered or lightly breaded in Italian spices and served with marinara, a pairing that works better than it has any right to. The true prize, though, is the potato wedges. Broad as oars, crisp on the outside and tender within, they’re reason enough to make the journey.
Water Street Tavern
324 S. WATER ST., STOUGHTON
My favorite fish fry in all the land lies along the banks of the Yahara River, in a village that tips its horned helmet to the Vikings of old. The hero is bluegill ($27) – that increasingly rare prize – baptized in buttermilk and clad in a secret blend of flours, starches and spices, fried to a crisp, crackling crunch. It’s joined by another unconventional choice: flash-fried Brussels sprouts laced with bacon, plus a bright, zippy coleslaw. A bourbon old fashioned (heresy to brandy loyalists) seals the feast. This is not the most traditional fry, and the price tag is not for the faint of heart. But as the Trojans learned, surprise can be the surest path to victory.
