Mortice Root wrote:What's the Sheboygan connection?
*nostalgic smile*
Though raised in southeast Florida, I am the oldest child of two Jews from Brooklyn. No, we didn't have a kosher home, and occasionally we would eat at a German deli, where I would have a
wurst platter that might have one boiled to death white colored "bratwurst" along with a couple other varieties of "wurst." What did I know by a true brat?
20 years ago this month, when I met Hyperception in south Florida, he was residing with his dad, a native born and raised Sheboyganite, "the
wurst capital of the world." Hyperception's mom, a native from Milwaukee (but one that I have never seen eat a brat in all the time I've known her), lived in Barbados with her second husband. So FIL is who I met first.
Our first meal together, he introduced me to the "brat fry." Holy !@#$! As a foodie, I was in heaven and intrigued. And the brat
had to be what I was told is the Sheboygan double brat. Never one brat on the kaiser roll but two (I had to stretch them when I made them at ElohimFest, so I served singles; but I was told they were pretty impressive all the same), regardless of them sliding around on the roll under the onion and pickle. That was all part of the experience.
Hyperception took brat frys for granted, and never expressed interest in learning how to do them. But FIL and I bonded over them. He would insist on using Johnsonville only; claimed there were better from the local butchers of his childhood in Sheboyagan, but that in south Florida, those were the closest to what he remembered. And he would tell me tales of various Summerfests down on the shores of Lake Michigan in Milwaukee, claiming all the while that the best brats served there were those from the proprieters of Sheboygan.
I think it took a year before he let me turn my first brat on the grill with bare fingers, and about three years before I could do the entire thing on my own. As I mentioned in the beer thread, the type of beer used to simmer the brats after they're cooked is just as important as not bursting the skin if at all possible.
We live about five hours away from FIL now, and I use the Showtime with the basket (never on skewers, never, never, never!!!) more often than firing up the grill, but I think of FIL, and his patience teaching this Floridian Jew how to make the perfect Sheboygan double brat, whenever I make this meal.
