Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Many years ago, sitting in a mountain-top bar just outside Hendersonville, N.C., someone told me I should take the time to visit Milwaukee. We were both in town for business and had just met, and we were trading our knowledge of various cities. But what about Milwaukee? she wanted to know.
“I’ve never been there. Never had a reason to go.”
“Well, you should make the time,” she said with the quick wink of a secret exchange. “You won’t regret it.” And then she proceeded to describe it in a way that has stayed with me: Milwaukee is a series of small residential towns, she said, with just the right-sized dollop of a city thrown into its center. That sounded kind of cool, so I filed it away under Places I Hope To Go.
After that, I seemed to run into Milwaukee everywhere. This person had just visited family there and found it charmingly Old World. That person had moved away and was pining for its large and infinite parks. A student longed for its endless summer ethnic and music festivals. If Milwaukee wasn’t Shangri-La, it certainly sounded close to it.
Many years passed before I finally had the chance to find Milwaukee, after I married a Wisconsin native and we ended up moving to the Badger state. Before too long, I found myself living there part time. So I know Milwaukee and the truth about all that praise: It was the truth. There are things I love about Wisconsin, and things I hate about the state, but Milwaukee is indeed a great city.
If it’s not Shangri-La, it’s only because it isn’t as isolated.
It manages to do what few cities can — convey a distinct sense of place that is at once comforting and adventurous. Milwaukee is a place where you can feel happy by just being there.
And, after all these years, Milwaukee is still a series of small residential towns with just the right-sized dollop of city thrown into the center. Despite a recent surge of skyscrapers, the city is still Old World, its parks are as spacious and well-kept and guarded for public access as they ever were, and the summer festivals, including the world’s largest music festival, Summerfest, are better than ever.
There’s more. Visit the grand hotels, such as the Hotel Pfister downtown, where a walk around the second-floor balcony is nothing less than a stroll through a museum of city and hotel history. Don’t forget to take the short hike to the waterfront, either, where you can walk or bike for miles in the parks, with the expanse of Lake Michigan on one side and a soft, almost blunted skyscape on the other, urban sunshades that go easy on the eyes. There’s concerts and plays, and the Brewers and the zoo and the botanical Domes.
But there’s one more thing most people don’t know about: Milwaukee is a culinary gem. Its restaurants equal and often surpass those of the largest cities in the world. A trip to Milwaukee can often make such prized food destinations as San Francisco disappoint, if you aren’t careful. There’s Bacchus, where classic New York makes its appearance in the Midwest. The nautical theme at Harbor House puts you on an upscale cruise, especially at the Sunday brunch. And what’s left to say about Sanford’s, the best of the best for many, except that it is less restaurant and more theatre, with perfectly choreographed and scripted food and service. Its performance art, worth a night out on its own, which for many it is. Over in the village of Wauwatosa, you’ll find nothing less than a Little Europe, complete with a river running and a train rumbling through it. Step into Le Reve, and you are set to dreaming you are in Paris. The shoulder-to-shoulder bistro is nothing less than joyful company, and the pomme frites and côte de bœuf are better than any I’ve had in France.
Eat at Le Reve, walk to the river, take in the European charm around you, and try to tell yourself you aren’t happy. It can be done, I suppose, but it won’t be easy.
So take the time to visit Milwaukee. As a wise person with the quick wink of a secret exchange once told me, you won’t regret it.
