Fort Mulligan’s is located in the heart of the endearing riverside town of Prairie du Chien. The structure that houses the Grill Pub has its own storied history; erected in 1855, using recycled materials from the 2nd Fort Crawford, the Famechron Building features 23” thick exposed limestone walls and tin ceilings. The French Store, which featured dry goods and groceries, used to occupy that space until it became Mulligan’s in 2000. We enjoyed the ambience as we awaited our provisions.

The curds arrived with a light golden brown color, reminiscent of a Friday fish fry, and were mostly shaped like battered circus peanuts. For $7.99 you get a heaping order, accompanied by your choice of ranch or marinara, served on a plastic plate – which didn’t really do justice to such a pleasing visual product. The coating was airy and melted away with a low resistance crunch. They felt as if someone had hollowed out Cheetos Jumbo Puffs and stuffed them with gooey white cheddar. The cheese inside was incredibly fresh; so much so that they still had a delightful note of squeakiness.  

Overall they were some very photogenic cheese curds with a unique crispy texture, but ultimately they left me wanting more. For as good as they look, there is a startling lack of taste, it isn’t displeasing in any way but the absence of flavor was surprising and disappointing. Perhaps I caught them on an off day, I enjoyed hanging out at Mulligan’s and would certainly give them another shot.

4.0 curds out of 5.0

Cheesy Fact of the Day:

American Cheese, such as Kraft Singles, cannot be legally sold as “cheese” in the United States because it is actually less than 50% cheese. Because its manufacturing process is so different from traditional cheeses, American Cheese must be labeled as “cheese food”, “cheese product” or “American Singles”.

What’s O’Curd to Me:

Participating in athletics can be one of the most worthwhile decisions a person makes. Within the framework of a pastime, an athlete imbibes a number of unassailable positive qualities and experiences such as hard work, accountability, physical fitness, stress relief, teamwork, perseverance and triumph. Ironically, being a sports fan is an endeavor that lacks essentially all of these virtues.

Smart folks in Las Vegas would argue the collective stadium crowd has some tangible impact on the game, but I am unaware of any betting line impact from individual fans hurling obscenities at their TVs while eating wings on their couch. Riding the roller coaster of die hard fanhood is tethering your emotional welfare to a low probability outcome that is completely beyond your control, and predictably ends in nothing but frustration and dejection most of the time. Our world is saturated with real life concerns, yet we continue to divert a ludicrous amount of resources – time, money, energy – toward this cause when they could undoubtedly be put to more practical use. This seems like lunacy at best and destructive at worst, so why do we love it?

Over the summer I was lucky enough to feel what it is like to have the sports fan roulette wheel land on my number, and the answer to that question crystallized before me. For the last several decades, being a Milwaukee Bucks fan has been a special kind of senseless. Long periods of mediocrity and irrelevance briefly interrupted by flickers of promise only to quickly be extinguished into smoldering heartache. The previous two seasons were among the most promising in franchise history as the reigning league MVP led the Bucks to the Eastern Conference’s best record in back-to-back years. But each of those campaigns ended in crushing playoff defeats. Fast forward to the 2021 postseason: a few key roster moves, stylistic changes and strokes of fortune, improbably, had the Bucks in position to seize the elusive Larry O’Brien Trophy. Their supporters were once again fully invested since that is what sports fans do – we dare to care despite knowing we risk another shattering letdown, because resolving to believe in something is required to achieve exultation.

I badly wanted to take part in this moment so a buddy and I made the three hour drive to Milwaukee to watch NBA Finals Game 5 in the Deer District – an outdoor viewing area in the shadow of the Bucks’ Arena, Fiserv Forum – with 25,000 of our closest friends. You would never have guessed the game was actually taking place 1,500 miles away in Phoenix because the atmosphere was absolutely electric.

Every sports fan has been in countless situations where they have had to hold back to avoid looking like a crazy person but in that setting you could be completely uninhibited. It was surreal to be part of that mass of humanity, all pulling for the same thing with the corresponding max level of enthusiasm. From the opening tip the crowd crackled with a seemingly unsustainable vigor on every possession, and even when the Bucks went down big the exuberance never wavered. The horde was like a living organism, pulsing with energy and acting as one. A dull roar would rumble as a play developed before crescendoing into an explosion of sound when the ball snapped through the net. 

This was the greatest sporting experience of my life and I doubt it will ever be topped. The combination of a fanbase starved for success, a remarkably easy group of players to root for and a playoff run that had survived seemingly dozens of fatal blows culminated in a playing-with-house-money elation. I truly believe I would have remembered this night forever regardless of the outcome, but fortunately the Bucks came out victorious on the strength of one of the most iconic sequences in NBA Finals history. The cherry on top was cheering beside my wife and five week old daughter, as we witnessed Milwaukee claim the championship that most feared would never come, less than 72 hours later. 

This is why we love watching sports. I gave the concept of fanhood a thrashing in paragraph two but would be remiss to leave the other side of that coin unspoken for. Rooting for a team, like any other hobby, helps fill in the cracks in our lives. It provides hours of entertainment, distraction from things we don’t want to dwell on, the opportunity to connect with anyone instantly based on this shared passion and is an evergreen source for smalltalk fodder or ice breaking material. The intangible effect of enjoying things, televised athletics included, is enormous – we aren’t machines on earth simply to accomplish as much as possible. These are just a few of the wonderful gifts provided by sporting events so it is clear to me that they are, on balance, a source for good. Where we get into trouble is by losing perspective and allowing our favorite recreational activities to play an outsized role in our lives. Perhaps, it is only possible to fully gain that clarity after experiencing what it’s like on top of the mountain. I sincerely hope you get to revel in that same euphoria soon.