Dining in Dixie

On Wednesday night, as we crossed Fields Street to enter the Farmer’s House Restaurant, a group of four were crossing with us.  The younger woman of the group noted our California plates: “Are you from California?” she asked.

“Yes, I replied, we’ve come all the way from California to eat at the Farmer’s House.” She laughs. "We met someone from Colorado today up at a waterfall.  All the way to Wisconsin to see a waterfall!"

Farmer’s House

The restaurant was unassuming with maybe 20 tables.  The foursome took a 4-top furthest from the door.  The waitress, a middle aged blond woman motioned for us to sit anywhere.  With “listening” on our mind we sat in a booth next to their table.  When Julie, the waitress brought our menu I asked, “Do you have a local beer?”

Without missing a beat she replied, “Pabst is local.”  The bartender from the attached bar brought me a can of Pabst, no glass.  Perfect.

Our dinner was the Wednesday night special: Broasted ½ chicken (pressure fried marinated and breaded chicken - a technique invented, along with the proprietary equipment in Beloit, Wisconsin!), choice of potato (twice baked for me, with sour cream), chicken dumpling soup, and a mud pie for dessert. $8.25.

Health care

We chatted with the neighboring table.  Dave asked the outgoing woman, “What is the biggest problem in America?”  

Without missing a beat she responded, “Health Care.”  Her solution was to get rid of the insurance companies.  They put up too many requirements and restrictions.  She works in a hospital and lots of people are using the emergency room for their primary care facility. “Because they don’t have insurance?” I ask.

“Yes,” she replies. 

Dave pursues, “But most patients don’t have the money to pay in their other pocket. Who should pay?”  

The man with his back to us speaks up for the first time and with a big smiles says, “Trump!”  We all laugh.

The two men of the group are retired Union Steelworkers.  We learn about the foursome's explorations together: camping, two trips in the last four years to the Smokey Mountains for fall foliage (a helicopter ride to look down on the trees was a highlight four years ago) and today, a trip to see 9 of the 14 waterfalls in Wisconsin which are all local. They live 35 miles south.  Their dog is in the car and several times the conversation comes back to how spoiled it is by the older of the two steelworkers.  He makes special breakfasts for it when they camp and is saving half of his chicken to give it on the drive home.

Dinner at Dixie Lunch

Nearly everyone we met on Thursday (our radio talk show host, museum curator, newspaper publisher) insisted that if we wanted to hear what is going on in Antigo we should go to Dixie Lunch for breakfast.  We’d meet the old, powerful (mayor, Sheriff, newspaper publisher) and opinionated men of the town who make a large table and talk for a couple of hours.  We are busy Friday morning, however, so we go to Dixie for dinner.  To optimize our chance of conversation we sit at the counter. Colleen our waitress is charming and brings in the bartender woman from next door (arranged like Farmer's House!) to list for me the "local" tap beers.  I choose the Leinenkugel Oktoberfest draft.

Soon a man sits one stool over from us.   Upon his arrival the chef comes out of the kitchen to greet him.  It  turns out the chef is his daughter.  He is Andy Boyd, a bus driver for the  school district -- although we clarify that he is employed by an outsourced bus company.  His passion are the Chicago Cubs and Bears  (“No,” he tells us, “Wisconsinites don’t have to be a Brewer/Packer  fans”) and his King Midget restored car which he is towing to a car show this weekend.  His daughter is passionate about High School color guard.  The three are each democratic -- Andy: “I hate Walker.  And Trump.”  His daughter, likely in her mid 20’s and without a college education, informs us she is moving to Madison.  We ask why. She replies, “There is not much to do  here for young people.  There is a bowling alley and movie theater but not much else.  And I’m not an outdoors type.”  She goes on, “And there are no jobs that pay above minimum wage.  That’s all I’ve had since graduating.”  In Madison she is “looking for a job that doesn’t involve cooking.”  Although she admits she might fall back on cooking in a pinch.

A friend of her just married and lives in Madison and has offered for her to live with them until she can move out on her own. “Ideally I’d like a job with a color guard.” she concludes.

Kolache for Breakfast

Prune Kolache

On our way to Burger King for our Radio interview we stop by Dixie Lunch one more time.  It is 6:45 so only a few of the “talkers” have arrived -- a couple of camouflage hats and one with white stars on a American-flag-blue background.  We’ve come for the Kolache.  This is a specialty danish pastry baked only Friday and Sunday.  “They just came out of the oven 30 minutes ago,” we are told by the older gentleman in an apron. It turns out he is one of the three siblings running the Dixie after their parents passed a few years ago.  “I was born in ‘46,” he tells us, “the year after my parents opened Dixie.” I choose the prune, Dave the poppy seed filled Kolache.


-- Peter