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 #624, at J&B’s Sports Bar & Blue Ribbon Taproom in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Located on a busy stretch of Bluemound Road that’s ripe with restaurants and bars, including ones I’ve had fish frys at, such as Dugout 54 and Magoo’s On The Mound, J&B’s Sports Bar & Blue Ribbon Taproom (5230 W. Bluemound Rd.; 414-443-1844) is a place I’ve long known has existed, but until now have passed over. Opened by Jon Bliesner and Bob Schindel in 2012, the business was known as J&B’s Blue Ribbon Bar and Grill until a remodeling and rebranding in early 2020 made it J&B’s Sports Bar & Blue Ribbon Taproom. Its proximity to American Family Field all but guarantees sports as a focal point, and its website states “Whether we’re cheering the Brew Crew, the Pack, the Bucks or the Badgers, J&B’s is the place to catch all local sports. And we’re the #1 pre- and post-destination for all American Family Field events!”
The building has a rich history. For decades it was home to Schlehlein’s. Newspaper records list it as such from the late 1940s until the late 1990s, although a deeper dig might confirm that Schlehlein’s was there much earlier—Schlehlein Bros. was established in 1898 and the building is listed as being built in 1899. With an eight-lane bowling alley and a dining room, it went by names like Schlehlein’s Recreation, Schlehlein’s Lanes, Schlehlein’s Restaurant, Schlehlein’s Club 53, Schlehlein’s Lanes & Restaurant, or simply, Schlehlein’s. Friday fish frys were a staple on the menu, including an all you can eat one. At the turn of the twenty-first century it became Long Wong’s Restaurant. Owned by Paul Wong, a co-founder of Wong’s Wok, it was tagged as “the world’s first Chinese-American sports bar.”
Around 5 p.m. this past Friday, I found parking on 52nd Street, and one of my stepsons and I walked a treacherously icy uphill sidewalk to Bluemound Road, down the block, and into J&B’s. From the Christmas tree topped with a Pabst can, to the wall of Pabst cans behind the bar, it was apparent that the “Blue Ribbon” in the restaurant’s name is a nod to Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. They even batter their fish in Pabst.
We got a table at a window along Bluemound, from which I could see much of the dining room, part of the bar, and the entrance to the hall and back bar, which was closed for a private party for the evening. J&B’s offers fried or baked cod (two-piece for $17 or three-piece for $20), the baked available plain or with Cajun or lemon pepper seasoning, and fried perch ($18). All come with the usual rye bread, coleslaw, and choice of potato: tots, potato pancakes, or french fries. J&B’s also offers fried cod ($14) and perch ($13) sandwiches, which come with the same sides as the fish dinners, except no rye bread. I put an order in for the perch and potato pancakes, while my stepson ordered the perch and fries.
When the plate arrived, I tried the sides first. The rye bread was a little cold and stiff—just like the weather—like it had just come out of the fridge. The dressing in the cup of slaw was lathered on rather thick, and there were a fair amount of celery seeds; both provided plenty of flavor, but overall it was a rather standard slaw.
The slightly browned potato pancakes had a consistency similar to hash browns. Their flavor seemed to come from a light seasoning, maybe paprika or cumin, not from onion, which perhaps also gave them an orange tint. I looked at my stepson’s plate and saw a heap of fries. Ordering fries probably would have gotten me double the amount of potatoes, but I had no regrets on ordering the potato pancakes.
But there was something else that caught my eye on my stepson’s plate. He had three butterflies of perch, for a total of six pieces, while I only had two butterflies of perch, or four pieces. I don’t get jealous of much, not really giving a damn about wealth or status, but at that moment, I was a little jealous of a nine year old. To alleviate this, I convinced myself that the fish was dished out by weight, not by number of pieces, which likely was true because two of his butterflies did appear to be on the smaller side, while both of mine were medium to big.
To increase the jealousy, the perch ended up being better than I’d expected. The flavor of the meat was robust and unmistakable, not timid or reserved, and it was moderately tender. The batter was crunchy in parts, and the softer pieces between the crunch often fell off, not holding onto the fish too well, but the brittleness didn’t bother me much. It was buttery and salty, maybe too salty for some, but both the batter and perch were just fine by me. The tartar had large chunks of pickle yet was easy to dunk into, and dunk I did.
“You’re done already?” my stepson said with surprise as he looked up from his plate, which still had half a heap of fries and a butterfly of perch. I told him to take his time and kept my composure, not asking if there was anything he didn’t want. Once I saw he was slowing down, I asked him if he wanted a box. No he didn’t. There was a pause. Then he told me I could have whatever was left on his plate.
It was the season of giving. I gave my stepson a ride to a restaurant and paid for his meal, and he gave me a piece of perch. We both ended up with 2.5 butterflies, or five pieces of perch. There are many things you could give this giving season, like money, time, toys, and clothes, but there might not be anything better than the gift of perch.
Takeaways: Nods to Pabst Blue Ribbon abound; lightly seasoned pancakes; robust and unmistakable perch flavor on crunchy yet brittle batter; give the gift of perch this giving season.
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