Caleb Westphal hasn’t missed a Friday fish fry since 2013. Follow his never-ending adventures HERE. This week: fish fry #630, at Mai Cafe in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
As if -7 degrees wasn’t cold enough, I checked the wind chill and it was -27. If ever there was a time to try the fish fry at the cafe attached to the nearby Travelodge—the closest place from home to get a fish fry, even closer than Coach’s, my usual neighborhood go-to—this was it. I’d driven past Mai Cafe—also known as Mai Cafe Breakfast, Bar & Grill and as Mai Sports Bar & Grill (1716 W. Layton Ave.; 414-282-6950)—hundreds of times, always curious about what they are about, and more specifically, what the fish fry that flashes on their exterior sign is about.
The location is no stranger to food. Built as a Howard Johnson’s Motor Lodge in 1970, there has been a restaurant inside since the beginning. Back in 1971, the Howard Johnson’s restaurant offered an all-you-can-eat fish fry for $1.49 on Wednesdays. While a Howard Johnson’s hotel was there well into the 2000s, by the early 1990s the restaurant became Riccobono, serving American and Italian fare. Spring Gardens Restaurant took over around the turn of the century and lasted into 2016. Mai Cafe took over the spot in 2019.
Months ago, I came across a picture on the restaurant’s Facebook, purportedly of their fish fry, which looked nothing like a traditional Wisconsin Friday fish fry, making me even more curious about what they serve. This contrasted from the menu on their website, which lists beer battered and baked cod, beer battered perch, and a seafood platter as options. I gave them a ring on Friday afternoon to get clarification and was told they had cod and perch on the menu, which at least cleared up my uncertainty related to the Facebook picture.
At 4:49 p.m., with my stepson who gave me the gift of perch during the holiday season along, I walked through a door that opened to a hallway. To the left was the restaurant and to the right was the hotel. A faded menu hung on the wall directly in front of me, which listed beer battered and baked cod, beer battered perch, and a seafood platter for fish options. I walked to the left and pulled on the door. I pulled again. I knocked on it. It looked dark inside, but I could see the “Open” sign flashing on the other side of the building.
Eventually we were let in—the one employee had been in back and eventually heard us. We walked through the dark bar and sat in a booth in the somewhat dimly lit restaurant. There were no other patrons—not in the bar nor in the restaurant. Music playing in the bar drifted in, but the restaurant was otherwise noiseless. It was desolate and frigid outside, and not far removed from that inside, in part because of the lighting and in part because of the cold, which had seeped in. We had come in like Luke Skywalker on a tauntaun, and it was unclear if we were now in The Shining or The Thing or something more pleasant, but the fake fireplace next to the glass dessert display didn’t have enough juice to pull us out of the drabness.
“Slow night, huh?” I asked the worker, who seemed to agree. Given the weather, I hadn’t expected many people, but the complete desolation was still a bit surprising for a place that’s open from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. on Fridays and (sometimes) has “breakfast,” “bar,” and “grill” in their name. It did seem like a place that could at least get quite lively for brunch on a bright, sunny Saturday or Sunday morning. But during our time there, just two other people dined in, and one or two others came in for carryout. But more importantly, shortly after we arrived, a cook arrived, presumably coming in for a shift starting at 5. Someone to fry the fish!
I asked the host-server-bartender (and until recently, cook) if they had any NA beer, and was somewhat stunned they didn’t, given the full bar in the other room. I settled for water and looked over the printed menu, seeing how it squared with the Facebook picture, website, phone call, and faded menu on the hallway wall. It was the same as the online menu except the perch was covered up. The fish fry offerings were a seafood platter with shrimp, cod, and perch ($16.99), beer battered perch (two-piece for $7.99 or three-piece for $9.99), and beer battered or baked cod (two-piece for $8.99 or three-piece for $10.99). The fish frys don’t automatically come with a potato, but mashed potatoes, french fries, a baked potato, or hashbrowns can be added for $2.49, and seasoned fries can be added for $3.49. I went with the seafood platter, finding out that yes, it did come with perch, and added french fries.
It was after 5:30 when the food arrived, making it almost 45 minutes from the time we walked in the building until we got our food. The plate heaped with three pieces of shrimp, two pieces of cod, two pieces of perch, and a bed of french fries. There also were small containers of cocktail sauce, tartar sauce, and coleslaw, but no bread.
This was very hot food, almost painfully so, having just come out of the kitchen, although it didn’t steam up the windows next to us or warm up the room. The fries were a bit soggy, maybe because the oil wasn’t hot enough when they were fried, as is often the case when I make them myself, but they had a definite deep-fried flavor that kept them delicious regardless. The coleslaw was one of the highlights of the meal, with a solid crunch, abundance of seeds, and more-than commonplace coating, but it was so small that it flew by quickly, not leaving much time to study it.
The batter on the fish had a robust beer flavor—ironic since NA beer was nowhere to be found. It was thick, and maybe a little too heavy, almost swallowing up the fish, and sometimes went beyond crispy, to crunchy, but the flavor redeemed it. Underneath, the perch had a healthy perch flavor, making it easy to distinguish from the cod. Neither the cod nor the perch were extraordinary, with the cod being meaty but not flaky, and one piece of perch being fresher than the other, but overall they were fine. They went well with the tangy tartar, a neither thin nor thick concoction that went the whole way despite its meager size. The shrimp were the planned-for bonus that you were still happy had arrived.
“It’s better than I thought,” my stepson remarked about the fish fry.
Was it better than I thought? Not necessarily. It was pretty much what I thought it would be. It was neither stellar nor subpar, but was decent. Although at first I had wondered if they even had a fish fry, they cleared that bar and raised the bar to presentable. This was neither an undiscovered fish fry gem nor a place worthy of a “what are they even doing here?” sneer. In the end, Mai Cafe and its fish fry say more about Wisconsin and its Friday fish fry tradition than anything else. It says that on a subzero day in Wisconsin you can go to a somewhat rundown hotel with a bar and restaurant connected to it, located off the highway in a somewhat overlooked part of the city, and get a presentable Friday fish fry. Now that’s something that can warm up not only the body, but the soul.
Takeaways: After consulting Facebook, a website, someone over the phone, a faded menu on a hallway wall, and a physical menu, I have concluded that they offer beer battered perch, beer battered or baked cod, and a seafood platter; now you see it, now you don’t coleslaw, but it is good; sort of soggy fries that still hold up; no NA beer but the batter tastes like beer; decent perch and cod, with mild shortcomings; desserts available under a display case.
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