Caleb Westphal hasn’t missed a Friday fish fry since 2013. Follow his never-ending adventures—sponsored by Miller High Life—HERE. This week: fish fry #611, at Dino’s Bar & Grill in Dodgeville, Wisconsin.
The dusty trails led us to Diagonal Street in Dodgeville. With a cowboy hat atop my head for the first time in months, I swung open the door to Dino’s Bar & Grill (110 Diagonal St.; 608-935-9380). A chalkboard ahead listed 13 lucky lines of Friday fish fry choices. A handwritten note attached to it cautioned that specialty sandwiches and some pizzas are not available from 4 to 9 on Fridays due to the large volume of fish being served. Also attached was a handbill from the Grant-Iowa County Tavern League advertising the upcoming Poacher’s Package Raffle at Cow Tippers in Mineral Point. (Another of these handbills was tacked in front of a rifle that hung above the bar.) The L-shaped bar was both beyond the chalkboard and to its left, and the dining room to the right—with its long tables, knotty pine panels, and big buck mounts—was empty. But not for long. Forget High Noon, it was 4:30 p.m., Friday fish fry time.
It wasn’t my first rodeo at Dino’s—I’d been there for fish twice, in 2014 and 2021. My wife, baby, and I began to settle at one of the tables in the dining room, but I was quickly back over at the chalkboard to take a closer look at the choices on the fish fry board: cod (two-piece for $12 or three-piece $14), walleye ($21), lake perch ($22), catfish ($14), Cajun catfish ($14.50), steak and shrimp ($15), garlic buttered shrimp ($15.50), hand breaded shrimp ($15.50), colossal shrimp ($17.50), the combo (1 pc. cod, 3 pcs. shrimp, and clams for $14), clams ($12), and a cod sandwich ($7). The sides were listed as french fries, waffle fries, baked potato, and cowboy potatoes (after 4 p.m.). When it was time to order, I went for the perch and cowboy potatoes—these particular spuds were never really in doubt given the cowboy hat—and picked coleslaw when given the choice between them and baked beans.
With only about a half dozen people sitting at the bar sipping drinks, and no music on—no Haggard or Hank or George Strait—it was relatively quiet at first. But over the next half hour the bar began to fill, and so did the dining room, with people who appeared to know, like me, that Fridays begin by at least 5 p.m. My fish fry landed just as the hum of Friday began to build.
While it was difficult to keep my eyes off the nine pieces of perch, let’s take a gander at the sides before moving on to them. There was a plain, white roll, different from rye bread, yes, yet not transformative. The coleslaw was slightly tangy and mixed with a smattering of seeds. It may have been compulsory, but it also was pleasant.
The cowboy potatoes were essentially hashbrowns with cheese melted on top. They weren’t thin, crispy hashbrowns, but thick and soft, and slightly creamy, like they were cut from a hashbrown bake or casserole. In my experience, cowboy potatoes—or cheesy potatoes—are more often available with fish frys in the West or Southwest—of Wisconsin, that is—than in the Milwaukee area, where potato pancakes are more the norm. Maybe it was just the geographical novelty, but I contend that cowboy potatoes have an adventurous, independent streak to them, not unlike the Man With No Name or the Sundance Kid.
Now let your eyes drift back to the perch. While small in stature, the pieces were consistent, and had a thin breading that was soft and malleable, textured and cohesive, and slightly buttery and lightly seasoned. The meat was succulent with a subtle sweetness. On its own the tartar seemed rudimentary, with a mayo-like base, mid-level thickness, and scattering of relish and herbs. But a tanginess cut through and met the sweetness of the perch and butteriness of the breading well.
Almost unexpectedly, the perch swung with the best of them anywhere. It was reminiscent of the perch at both Sister Bay Bowl and Wendt’s, two of the finest perch plates in the state. While not quite up to their caliber, the size and quality of the fish was reminiscent of Sister Bay Bowl, and the breading brought thoughts of Wendt’s. That a small bar with a small kitchen could climb this high is admirable. The last time I was at Dino’s I had the cod, and I don’t remember much of it now. But, on account of its consistently delightful breading and succulent fillets, the perch will stick with me longer. That’s something you can hang your cowboy hat on.
Takeaways: Standard slaw that you can swap for baked beans; white roll not rye bread; cheesy cowboy potatoes after 4 p.m.; delightful breading and succulent perch that swings with the best of them; many reasonably priced choices on the Friday menu; cash or check only, but there’s an ATM on site; straight out of 1975 with a vintage Old Style sign hanging outside and panoramic Hamm’s sign behind the bar.
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