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 #596, at Paulie’s Pub & Eatery in West Allis, Wisconsin.
On the disorganized 49-page document where I list places to potentially get a Friday fish fry, Paulie’s Pub & Eatery (8031 W. Greenfield Ave.; 414-667-7753) is listed five times. Next to one of the listings is the question: “perch?” I checked their online menu and perch was nowhere to be found. That was okay, I was perfectly content to settle for some cod—I’d been aware of Paulie’s for years and had never stepped inside, so perch or no perch, I was going to go for it.
There never are too many weeks between getting a fish fry in the Friday fish fry capital of the world, West Allis, Wisconsin. This was visually evident when driving to Paulie’s, as I sped past the old Dicken’s (now Burnsie’s) and Limanski’s on Greenfield Avenue, turned the corner on 81st Street, and parked just past the State Fair Inn, which is directly across the street from Paulie’s.
Paulie is Paul Budiac, who along with his wife Kristine opened Paulie’s Pub & Eatery in 2004. (They also have Paulie’s Field Trip, the next bar south on 81st Street.) Numerous signs implore patrons to check with a worker in order to be seated, so I did. I was asked if I’d like to sit inside or in the enclosed outside area, and answered that indoors was fine for me. While I thought I’d be seated at one of the empty two-tops across from the spacious bar, I was seated in the back room. A stage with a drum set was in my view, and through the windows behind it the Wisconsin State Fair’s grandstand bleachers. Another West Allis fish fry memory came to mind, this one of eating a boat of smelt while watching Alice Cooper in 2018.
I got my hands on a menu. The Friday fish fry section listed breaded walleye ($23), cod ($16), either battered in Riverwest Stein, breaded, or baked (choice of lemon pepper, Cajun, or zesty blend), fish tacos ($16), and would you believe it, a three-quarter pound perch dinner ($26). The potato options were parmesan ranch chips, fries, buttered red potatoes, and potato pancakes. A side salad could be added to any dinner for $3, extra potatoes for $3, or an extra piece of cod for $5.50. There also was clam chowder ($4.50 cup/$6 bowl).
“Let me see if I have it,” the waitress cautioned me, as she searched the mobile POS device in her hand for perch. I told her that I hadn’t seen it listed online, to which she said that the perch was an on again, off again, on again sort of thing at Paulie’s. The question of “perch?” was finally answered in the affirmative, as if it was the great marlin in Hemingway’s The Old Man And The Sea, but in this account had been pulled into the boat whole, without the sharks having ripped it to shreds. I ordered my great catch with potato pancakes.
“Do you want anything else, dear?”
“I’ll have a cup of the clam chowder.”
One minute later I had it. Grand chunks of potatoes, celery, and clams protruded, and there was some bacon mixed in, too. The right amount of these all were found throughout—meaning there was a lot of all of them and none overpowered another. Plenty of seasoning wrapped it all together.
My long-sought-after perch plate arrived not long after I polished off the chowder. For starters, there was a half piece of lightly marbled rye along with another piece that was trying its best to be a half piece. They were a little crisp on the edges like they had been lightly toasted, but I don’t think they had been. The coleslaw had uniform, small-cut bits of cabbage, with a few bits of carrot mixed in like exclusive plushies in a claw machine. The cabbage and carrots mix was dense, being packed together tightly, and with juice or cream being almost nonexistent. But the most salient component was the pungency, which hit the closest to wasabi paste—or whatever masquerades as wasabi paste whenever I get sushi rolls—as any coleslaw I’ve ever had.
I had been asked if I wanted applesauce, syrup, or sour cream with the potato pancakes, and had picked the sour cream. The pancakes had a lightly browned but soft exterior, and were generally well-built, being more than a glorified hash brown, and having an appealing mouthfeel. Although the Force of onion was strong with these ones, I couldn’t pinpoint the source of the Force, not being able to find any green, yellow, or white onions with my naked eye. I guess that’s why they call it the Force.
Six butterflies (that’s 12 pieces!) of perch jutted up from the plate and made my stomach flutter. Their breading was sufficiently innovative, being well-seasoned without being overpowering, with a contrasting, crisp-meets-soft texture. The pieces ranged slightly in size and meatiness, but the candy-like perch flavor was unmistakable. The tartar was pretty standard, being fixed up with mayonnaise, with some relish tossed in, and maybe a splash of lemon. I kept returning to it, but it had less of a story to tell than the perch and its breading.
I came to Paulie’s for cod after being intrigued by the possibility of perch. To my surprise, they had perch. Or did they? Yes, they did, and it came in heaps! But I would have been there either way, and will be someplace else the week after, and the week after that, because while perch may (unfortunately) come and go, fish frys are forever.
Takeaways: Well-balanced and chunky chowder; wasabi slaw; potato pancakes with the Force (of onion); they have perch again!; perch ranges in size and meatiness, but has a steady flavor and alluring breading; friendly and efficient service; they have live music inside and outside.
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