Chapter 5 – Good Garbage

Highland House – 12741 N. Port Washington Road, Mequon

This is kind of a fictional outpost in the “North Woods”—though it's essentially Milwaukee (Mequon)—I could ride my bike here—but it does feel out there—and the style is something between “The Islands” (their tagline is: “Where You're Always On Vacation”), and Las Vegas, and sports-bar. It manages to be a family place and a heavy drinking place at once, but then this is Wisconsin. Brent, Doug, and I stopped here once, and I remembered it as “weird”—not sure why—I guess there's something mildly humorous about the layout (it's huge, with various dining areas) and the chaotic, energetic approach. Brent and I returned at 4PM on a rainy Saturday—the hour when you might find yourself the only lonely patron of a place—but it was like Mardi Gras at the Highland House! It again struck us as weird—and again, not sure why. Well, the servers all appear to be high school cheerleaders, wearing knotted open Hawaiian shirts with caucasian-tan colored t-shirts underneath—get the picture? That close of proximity with underage showgirl style makes me a bit uncomfortable, like a bikini charity carwash or something. Hey, I don't make these things up, and even though I'm too old to know better, we're just being honest here, right? Their stated style is: “California, Caribbean, and Mexican”—and while each of those is infinite in itself and worlds apart from each other, you get the idea. Fruity Rum and Tequila drinks, smokin' sizzlin' meat trays, big screen sports, enormous unruly groups accommodated with enthusiasm, tacos. They have a separate gluten-free menu, so it's an island breeze for me to order. I went for pork belly tacos, which would have been perfect with avocado, onions and cilantro, but they were also piled high with chicharron and Cotija cheese and “ranchero” sauce. Garbage, then, but good garbage. I would always prefer some kind of fresh salsa to any kind of sauce. I don't even like the word sauce. Never say “sauce” in my presence again, friends—for the love of God! Thank you. Rice and beans, too—way too much—I took half to go. Ate it all the next day, because I'm a human trash compactor.