Some cheese, your highness?
Some cheese, your highness?
dairy rules this castle
Hello, everyone!
Hope you’ve all recovered from any Super Bowl shenanigans you may have partaken in yesterday. I have been hungover on a Monday at work before, and let’s just say, I hope to never relive that experience.
Today’s edition of the newsletter is particularly awesome, but before we get started, here’s one fun little thing:
My piece on hot dogs from 2022 is the cover story for Bon Appétit’s March edition.
I mentioned this on my other newsletter too (which you are not at all obligated to read), so sorry about the double announcement to some of you. The magazine asked if I was cool with them printing it (who wouldn’t be?!), but I didn’t know it was the cover piece until I got the preview. I died when I opened it. Gotta earn these bona fides somehow.
I’m just doing what I can to spread my love of Chicago. Some friends of mine have mentioned receiving the magazine in the mail already, which means it should be on newsstands shortly (if not now). Oh, and also, that little penguin is my old friend Harvey, who says hello to all of you.
And last thing, before we begin, just a little nudge for all you to upgrade your subscription to the newsletter. It’s just me running this thing, and without your support, I can’t get out there to document the places around us. (Plus it takes a lot of personal time, something I’m on short supply of.)
Also, every other edition’s behind a paywall so you do get double the content. Just think about it, at least!
But today’s is gloriously free, and I’m glad it is, because today we’re taking a very short road trip north to Wisconsin, to a place that’s dear to many of us.
If you’ve ever made a trip up north to Milwaukee and beyond (I see a few of you Door County vacationers in here), it’s likely you’ve driven up on 94.
That means you know the sign for Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha all too well.
I’d say it’s just over an hour’s drive up the tollway. Even if you’ve never been inside, it’s hard not to at least be fond of the sight of the place. It’s a castle dedicated to cheese! But I have a feeling plenty of you have been in to grab a six-pack of Spotted Cow (mmm, that creamy finish) from New Glarus Brewing Company, which we can’t buy in Illinois, or to browse the shop’s huge inventory of cheeses.
There’s turrets on the building and tourists (us) and everything.
Even being in the parking lot is fun. We watched a family taking photos, who then practically sprinted into the entrance that’s designed to look like a drawbridge. It’s like Medieval Times, but for cheese.
Most of Mars Cheese Castle is dedicated to shopping space, where you can expect to pay tourist prices, but there’s also a food counter that serves sandwiches and snacks.
It’s just a walk-up situation, no servers (or should I say servants?) here. But after having lived in and around Chicago all of my life, I’d never been in to actually eat. So Davida and I decided on a few things to try, grabbed some paper crowns by the register, and donned them like the dairy royalty we always knew we were.
The free condiment station by the cash register is pretty awesome.
There’s salad dressing, mayo, ketchup, and multiple types of mustard, but there’s also some nods to Chicago, including two ounce containers of neon green relish and giardinera.
Look closely, however, and you’ll find something interesting called Stormin’ Sauce. Neither Davida and I had heard of it—but turns out it’s a product made by former Milwaukee Brewers player, Gorman Thomas.
Stormin’ Sauce is a relatively thin yellow mustard-based South Carolina barbecue sauce that’s both sweet and tangy, useful for anything you want, like glazing, dressing, or dipping. (We particularly liked it with the cheese curds, which you’ll read about in just a second.)
Mars Cheese Castle sells jars of Stormin’ Sauce, in case that first taste gets you hooked.
When you’re in Wisconsin, you’re legally required to have at least one serving of cheese curds ($5.99) during your visit, especially at the Mars Cheese Castle.
And theirs are especially good. They’re tempura battered, with a thin crisp shell, and come out piping hot, which is exactly when you should eat them, even if that means risking burning your tongue a little. Cheese curds cool off quick, and they’re so much better when they’re molten.
There’s no dedicated sauce for the curds, but remember that Stormin’ Sauce I just mentioned? It’s perfect, since the vinegar from the mustard cuts through the slightly greasy shell and cheese. Or if you’re seasoned food professionals such as Davida and I, you can dip the curds in nacho cheese sauce, which feels illegal for some reason, but is awesome.
The grilled cheese sandwich ($5.99) does not fuck around.
It comes loaded with cheddar (no American here), and now that I think about it, we probably should have ordered soup with it, because that would have been perfect on the cloudy day we visited. Because it’s cheddar, the cheese does solidify pretty quickly. Like the curds, you’ll get the most mileage out of it if you eat it immediately.
Instead of posing the sandwich in your hand and taking photos of it like a total nerd, while other people wonder if you’re a weird influencer. These are the sacrifices I make for you.
For some reason, Davida and I were really in the mood for some liverwurst because apparently we’re 80 years old, so we got the sandwich ($6.49).
It’s nothing but a slab of liver sausage on dark rye, but man, it really hit the spot, especially with some brown mustard from the condiment station. This particular liverwurst’s texture is ultra-silky and smooth, practically like butter. The only thing that could have made it better would have been the addition of raw onion—which next time, we’ll ask for.
Our curiosity order was the meatball bomber ($6.99), which came dressed with red sauce and mozzarella melted on top.
Based off the meatballs’ uniformly spongy texture and perfectly-shaped appearance, I’m guessing someone’s nonna wasn’t in the back making them, meaning they’re probably from a factory. But you know what? We still liked it just fine, especially after we loaded the thing with a bunch of giardinera.
If you like meatball subs from a chain like Potbelly, this makes a pretty good pit stop sandwich, plus if you’re looking for the best bang for your buck, this thing was so generously filled that it wouldn’t actually close shut.
The signature sandwich is called the King’s Ransom ($8.99).
It’s the sandwich you really want to get, not just because of the name, but because it’s satisfying in a hot Italian sub sort of way. The King’s Ransom is filled with ham, capicola, pepperoni, melted white cheddar, tomato, red onion, lettuce, and mayo, all on a baguette.
The bread will likely fall apart on you as you’re eating it, but that’s okay. We’re here to rescue the king, and it is your civic duty to the kingdom of Mars to eat this thing. It’s salty and hearty, and if you’re only going to get one sandwich, make it this one.
Sides are included with all sandwiches (huzzah, as the knights say), which includes small fries, a bag of chips, warm German potato salad, or an apple.
Wisconsinites are pretty hearty eaters, so a small fry is actually a pretty decent size. They’re the lightly battered kind, a style I seem to be running into a lot lately. I do not have any insightful things to say about them, but Mars Cheese Castle does serve nacho pump cheese, so… you know what to do.
Then, of course, you should order the warm German potato salad for at least one of your sides.
It’s the kind that’s dressed in vinegar, which gives it a little tangy kick. Between the fries and this, the German potato salad is definitely the more interesting one. If you’re only ordering one side, I’d put your money on the salad, since it’s got more personality to it.
And there we have it—that’s how Davida and I have conquered the Mars Cheese Castle. We even did it wearing paper crowns too, because you can get them up by the register. That’s a free souvenir, and the best way to show everyone that you’re part of the royal Mars family. Wear it proudly, and enjoy the rest of your trip up north, wherever you’re headed.
Mars Cheese Castle
2800 W Frontage Rd
Kenosha, WI 53144
(855) 352-6277
Hours: Open 9 a.m. - 7 p.m. daily
This one was really fun to write, because everyone loves the Mars Cheese Castle. Don’t forget to share this edition of the newsletter, because I’m sure there’s plenty of people you know who’ve always been curious about the castle.
And of course, don’t forget to upgrade your subscription.
You guys are awesome. And lastly, one final announcement, I’ll be cooking at Half Acre on February 26 at a vegan event for Crust Fund Pizza. Keep on eye on John Carruthers’ social media for specifics, and I’ll make sure to give you more detailed info next week.
We’re done for today, so see you paid subscribers next Monday. Love you guys.
Frontage Road, more like Fromage Road amirite
It's true! Everyone loves the Mars Cheese Castle. That plus the Brat Stop serve as the Kenosha one-two punch along I-94.