Two summers ago, I went to Bridge’s Bar in Lake Nebagamon after years of drinking dirt cheap pitchers of Leinenkugel’s there. But upon arrival, I found that the Leinie’s was missing. It was just about the scariest moment of my life. As I wallowed in sorrow, a friend brought a pitcher of beer to me excitedly. “They have Spotted Cow,” he proclaimed. I was unswayed, but he poured me a glass and I drank it because it sounded better than the Bud Light that was also on tap. My disappointment disappeared and I vowed never to return to Wisconsin again without drinking some Spotted Cow.

Anyone from Wisconsin knows Spotted Cow. Born in the small New Glarus Brewing Co., the beer only leaves Wisconsin if a lucky traveler smuggles it out. This makes Spotted Cow even more prized than my precious Leinie’s.

But why is Spotted Cow so amazing? According to the website, “Naturally cloudy we allow the yeast to remain in the bottle to enhance fullness of flavors, which cannot be duplicated otherwise. Expect this ale to be fun, fruity and satisfying. You know you’re in Wisconsin when you see the Spotted Cow.”

Just reading that makes me wish I was back in Wisconsin right now, sipping on some Spotted Cow. Some beers are seasonal and some beers are situational, but Spotted cow is the type of beer I could pop open any day of the week and any time of the year and be happy. There’s a hint of sweetness that sets it apart from any bitter beers, but it is subtle and does not distract from it’s classic beery taste. It also has a bit of a creamy texture to it that is not often found in a beer. A plain ale, minus any flavor, might as well feel like carbonated water when it hits the mouth, but Spotted Cow lets your taste buds and your sense of touch know that something special is happening inside your mouth.

Plus, I can picture myself eating anything with this beer. Sure, I’ve only really tested it on pizza fries, cheese curds, burgers and bratwurst, but a beer like this can only enhance a meal, not harm it.

So although I was saddened at the loss of Leinie’s at Bridge’s, things weren’t all bad. I doubt Spotted Cow will ever fully replace Honey Weiss as my favorite beer, but it does a damn good job of trying.

Bridge’s Tavern in Lake Nebagamon, Wisconsin has no kitchen. In a lot of bars this can be a problem if I get the drunken munchies. Not at Bridge’s though, because despite their kitchen handicap they make Pizza Fries.

Pizza Fries aren’t too different from pizza, and they’re not really even close to being fries aside from abstract similarities in shape. Yet, Pizza Fries is the name that has been chosen for them. The closest thing they resemble is cheesey breadsticks, but this isn’t some gimmick to get people to buy an already existent product like when Burger King started making “Chicken Fries” (chicken tenders). There is just something about Pizza Fries that transcends any other nomenclature.

In composition, they are a thin, crispy dough with gooey cheese melted on top and a marinara sauce for dipping. Although these components are the same as a cheese pizza, somehow the Pizza Fries taste completely different. Picture yourself drunkenly enjoying a pizza. Great. Now multiply that by 10 and you have the happiness that is Pizza Fries.

Pizza Fries are a staple at bars throughout the Northwoods, but somehow seem to have failed to make it beyond the region. If an LA bar could offer me Pizza Fries (of course at a similar price of under 5 bucks), I would be one painfully happy man.