To truly experience Wisconsin, head to the supper club

Gargantuan prime ribs, Friday fish fries, relish trays, a few too many sweet brandy old-fashioned sweets, and a whole host of overly cheerful Midwest geniality is an evening staple across the state of Wisconsin at the local “supper club.” Not quite a bar but not a restaurant and certainly not a “members only” haunt, the supper club is kind of like each town’s living room, where locals gather for dining, drinking, dancing, and just having a downright good time.

“The supper club is about more than drinking and eating,” says Holly De Ruyter, a documentary filmmaker and director of Old Fashioned: The Story of the Wisconsin Supper Club. ”It’s about coming together and enjoying each other’s company in a cosy, convivial atmosphere.”

There are over 250 such supper clubs across the Badger State, spanning from the shores of Lake Michigan and Lake Superior into Milwaukee and Madison and through the far-north, Dells, and Driftless Area. Each club is unique, a sort of sub-genre of a restaurant that has its own eclectic charm. There are kitschy German-themed supper clubs.

Others are dedicated entirely to an animal like the duck at The Duck Inn in Delaven, where the menu is duck and the phone rings with a quack. In northern Wisconsin, you’ll find a lot of woody cabins serving game. Many will have somehow eschewed the passing of time, seemingly unchanged since the days of Eisenhower.

“They are all very unique, and the focus is on the local and homemade food,” says De Ruyter. And, speaking of the food, there’s arguably no better place to sample the state’s culinary bounty, from fresh lake fish to the iconic beefs, cheeses, dairy, and, obviously, booze—including ice cream cocktails. And each restaurant does it a little differently.

Nowadays, though, the supper club is under a state of evolution. You have newcomers putting inventive twists on this Midwest tradition, offering fine-dining interpretations—much to the dismay of purists. Then, there’s the fact that many are, sadly, disappearing, largely to restaurant costs, changing taste-buds, and a clientele that, unfortunately, is dying off or simply moving away. Still, though, to experience the best of Wisconsin, requires sidling up to the bar, enjoying an old-fashioned and savoring this unique tradition.

(Step inside London’s evolving supper club scene)

What is a supper club?

When it comes to the “history of supper clubs,” many suppose that it originates in California in the 1920s by transplanted Wisconsinite Lawrence Frank. A proud son of Milwaukee, Frank took the elements he adored at rural Wisconsin roadhouses and brought them to the streets of Beverly Hills. He opened his most famous restaurant in the ‘30s, Lawry’s The Prime Rib (also popularizing his famous Lawry’s Seasoned Salt), and it was a hit, entertaining the locals with swanky evenings of tipples, fine dining, dancing, and live orchestras. But was this a supper club? Not really.

In reality, the supper club’s origins begin far earlier and likely back in England, as they were popular gathering spots for London’s modish theater crowds, and, in the United States, they were known in New York City before becoming popularized during the Gilded Age of Hollywood and spreading throughout the country. They reached their peak in popularity through the 1950s and 1960s before falling into obscurity almost everywhere except in Wisconsin, where it took on a life of its own.

So, what exactly is a supper club?

Well, that’s a point of contention. Some believe it can only serve dinner. Some believe there needs to be a veggie platter (also known as a relish tray). Almost everybody will agree that no matter the food it’s entirely about the feeling inside of a supper club, which is best encompassed by the German word Gemütlichkeit, which means a warm, cosy, grandma-like atmosphere. In this case, the vibe just so happens to be a bar and restaurant. 

“When you walk into a Wisconsin supper club, you know you’re going there for the night,” says De Ruyter. “This is not a place to just pop into for a quick meal,” adds Mary Bergin, journalist and author of the Wisconsin Supper Club Cookbook. “It’s a destination for the evening, and there’s a sense of connection — the feeling that everybody here belongs.” 

The tell-tale signs that you’re at a good supper club are “a full parking lot,” “crowded bar,” and “well-maintained neon sign,” says Bergin. “The best stereotypical supper club would have a horseshoe-shaped bar, so that it encourages conversation—strangers talking to each other. That’s not something we necessarily do in other dining venues.” 

Classic supper clubs

Roxanne Peterson has been at Toby’s Supper Club in Madison for 69 years, and, in her words, “not much has changed.” The ho-hum, working class club has been slinging out top sirloin, fried cod, lake perch, and even frog legs—a former delicacy but now rare at clubs. And Peterson, the owner, strictly adheres to what she defines as “supper club tradition,” a tradition she carries on from her parents’ who ran the joint. “Every restaurant in Wisconsin thinks they’re a supper club,” says Peterson. “This has always been. We never open until the afternoon. It’s a place for people to commune, meet your neighbors, and enjoy dinner.” Service reflects that, with her daughter, Kelly Gill, running the bar and service. Doors open at 3 p.m. and by 3:30 p.m. it’s nearly full of regulars sipping brandy old-fashioneds in the woody, dimly lit interior while gabbing back-and-forth over the giant U-shaped bar. 

It’s a similar story at Butterfly Club in Beloit. The club may be 75-years-old but Albanian-American brothers Mike and Hektor Sala have been running the show for the last 26 years. The specialty is the rack of lamb, in addition to classic dishes like steak and lobster. When you walk in, Butterfly Club can seem more like a family reunion than a restaurant. Mike is shaking hands and hugging nearly everyone who orders at the bar, chatting like old friends. “A lot of people come from far to get here,” he says. “I’m very proud to be a part of this. The ambiance is beautiful, the dining room is fantastic. It’s different from anywhere else.” Stop by on a Friday or Saturday evening with a live band crooning to Dean Martin, and it’s a hootenanny with hundreds of people from seemingly the whole region—from Rockford, Illinois on North—from 20-somethings to 80-somethings (skewing older), bopping along to “Volare.”

And you can witness the similar spectacles nightly across the state at the historic Schwarz’s Supper Club in New Holstein, Blink Bonnie way up near Michigan Upper Peninsula, Maiden Lake Supper Club north of Green Bay, The Roxy, Rupp’s on Washington, or even Red Circle Inn, the oldest supper club in the state, which has served everyone from traders to trappers, settlers, and workers of all classes. These are destinations, oftentimes the only destination, where you can not only celebrate one’s baptism, wedding, retirement, and funeral, but also enjoy a meal. In Roxbury, Dorf Haus is that exact location. 

The second-generation, family-run German-themed supper club embodies gemütlich. Rebecca Maier-Frey and her brother Monte Maier helm the operation. Rebecca’s husband is cooking, Monte’s daughter is helping at the bar, other members of the family and friends are in dirndls and lederhosen serving, and the whole 10-mile radius is in Dorf Haus on a Friday night, sipping steins and enjoying spätzle and schnitzel among decor, hand-picked in Bavaria by the family.

“You have generations of families coming here,” says Maier-Frey. “Just being here and seeing our customers, their families and friends, all walks of life. I love Wisconsin and these eclectic places that have character and personality. You don’t find that everywhere.”

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A new era of supper clubs

“There aren’t many supper clubs in an urban setting,” says Matt Breen, general manager of the Tornado Club in downtown Madison. “But we’re trying to give you that supper club vibe but we’re still fine dining.” 

Tornado Club is an eclectic cross-over between a ‘50s-era speakeasy and steakhouse. The dimly lit joint has existed as a supper club for 30 years, but, nowadays, you’ll often go for their modern takes on classic cocktails alongside the late-night, surf-and-turf menu with perfectly cooked beef. It’s so popular that the restaurant is booked nearly every night. Everything on the menu is made from scratch.

“Some guests know we are a supper club. Others don’t even know what supper club means,” says Breen. “We are fine dining. But people recognize a familiarity here. They’re comfortable.”

A 15-minute walk away from Tornado Club is The Harvey House. Run by Shaina and her chef-husband Joe Papach (both of whom have restaurant experience that spans stints at Michelin-starred joints like Gramercy Tavern in New York City, Quince and Cotogna in San Francisco, and the French Laundry in Napa), the restaurant celebrates the post-Prohibition boom of supper clubs in the Midwest, by serving out hearty club classics with refinement and a witty twist.

For example, they’ve taken chicken Kiev and gussied it up with a garlic-herb butter and pomme purée or frog legs (a western Wisconsin staple) but lightened it with a plenty of dijon. Arguably the best example of such twists is the French onion soup, which they’ve made with a clarified onion broth that’s then poured over a little dice of gruyere and croutons and topped with a dollop of cheesy mousse. It’s a lot lighter than a normal bowl but just as satisfyingly rich. 

“We never wanted to be like a supper club,” says Shaina Papach. “We wanted to take the things that resonated with us and that we loved—like the huge sense of generosity the second you walk in the door that feels like you’re being taken away to this enjoyment zone—and apply them to our own restaurant.”

Dan Cunningham's Green Acres, on the outskirts of Sauk City, which has been operating in hospitality, in one way or another, since the late 1800s. “I’m just an old corporate guy who was a foodie with his wife,” says Cunningham. He grew up in Racine and remembers the supper club was the only restaurant his family would go to growing up. “All we’ve done here is taken the traditional menu and given it a more gastronomic flare and made it special with the wine.” 

Specials at Green Acres include scallops with risotto, slow-roasted prime rib, massive porterhouses, and an assortment of fresh-caught lake fish. The expansive wine list—which is surprisingly affordable in terms of wine lists—has caught the adoration of Wine Spectator and spans the world, including everything from locally produced Wollersheim wines, acidic Mosel Rieslings, earthy Burgundy’s, and, Cunningham’s favorites, Pinot Noirs from Oregon’s Willamette Valley.

“Look, as time goes on there are going to be fewer and fewer supper clubs,” says Cunningham. “The bar has been raised for us to make people happy. But if you have a favorite place, keep going. Meet for a cocktail and appetizer. Enjoy each other’s company.”

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