Wiltfang Keeps Expanding His Colorful Brand
SKALIWAGS’ APPEAL BORN IN CRAMPED ALGOMA RESTAURANT
The celebrity-chef movement popularized by the likes of Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri – who add a dash of maestro/entertainer to every teaspoon of kitchen wizardry – was absolutely made for a guy like Chris Wiltfang.
Extroverted toward his customers and opinionated and perfectionist toward his food, in just seven years Wiltfang, 47, has navigated the waves of that trend to turn his Southern-flavored Skaliwags' brand of Northeastern Wisconsin restaurants into the type of must-try cuisine that cab drivers, hotel desk clerks and word-of-mouth religiously recommend. A customer interviewed by another media outlet likened the experience to "dinner and a show."
"Three things happened (serendipitously)," says Wiltfang. "First, this brand-new thing called Facebook all of a sudden exploded. The first chef I saw do a cooking video was on there; it was terrible (production), but it was wonderful.
"Then the cooking channels became huge along with their chefs."
The third ingredient to this recipe for success, he said, was the cyclical comeback of the "dive bar" – not that Skaliwag's dining rooms are a janitor's nightmare, but in the sense of a laidback, no-airs night out where the chef must be every bit as present and engaging as the bartender.
Wiltfang, who turned to cooking after 10 years in the family business of audiology, spoke while busying about his newest restaurant in the village of Suamico, located on Lineville Road between the Urban Edge Shops and Festival Foods. That makes five locations in Brown, Door and Kewaunee counties – or 4½ depending on how you count Sturgeon Bay (more on that later).
Even on the eve of the May 15 grand opening, Wiltfang wasn't too preoccupied to whip up an improvised eggs Benedict twist for a visitor with far more meat and no muffin. So what does one name this vaguely tangy, flavor-packed creation that includes a thick, prime filet lying in creamed asparagus, flanked by mushrooms, and topped with organic fried egg, smoked-salmon chowder sauce and grilled corn?
"Breakfast," Wiltfang deadpanned.
The newest Skaliwags, site of the old Mustard Seed Cafe & Catering, has seating for 112 with an open-air feel thanks to plentiful window banks that let in the sunshine. "When I saw the big double doors, I figured I could fit my ego in here," Wiltfang joked.
There's room for 15 at the white-quartz hardtop bar; a 20-person community table; and a small number of seats at the chef's prep cart for $100 a pop, where hungry diners can up the anticipation by watching the artist in action. Wiltfang renovated an office directly behind the wall holding his craft-brew taps and put his feed lines, barrels and compression tanks right there, so that the flowing beers lose as little as possible in taste and chilliness en route to the tap. Popular domestics like Bud are available in can only.
Way back when, compliments to the chef were relayed to the unseen wizard via waitstaff – and the gratitude was seldom returned, at least not by the unquestioned king of the kitchen. Wiltfang, though, feels he must be out and about, mingling with his guests to give them the thanks or even get inspiration for new menu items from the people who matter.
"When I saw the big double doors, I figured I could fit my ego in here." — Chef Chris Wiltfang , on opening of his new Suamico restaurant
"I've worked for all these super-talented chefs who will always be what they are (and nothing more) because they are behind the iron curtain," Wiltfang said. "I want to go out and thank them for spending money with us, with as many places as there are to eat. We love them. We have to develop relationships. We were a destination restaurant before they were calling it that."
Although a Southerner who spent his childhood in Florida, Louisiana, and St. Simon Island, GA, Wiltfang said the hospitality he espouses is not some exclusive domain of those below the Mason-Dixon line. Wisconsin made the similarly styled supper club an institution, a place where everyone knows the piano player and mixologist by name.
His favorite example is Mark Whipp, third-generation co-owner of the iconic Eddie Whipp's dining and wedding hall on the southeast edges of Green Bay. "That dude is like hanging out with Mr. Roarke; it's like 'Welcome to Fantasy Island,"' Wiltfang said, referring to actor Ricardo Montalban's mysterious wish-redeemer on the hit 1970s-'80s TV show. "You just get lost in his stories. That just came to us naturally."
He also picked up on the customer-service expertise of a sister-in-law. "Donna is without a doubt the greatest restaurateur I've ever known, but she never had her own restaurant," Wiltfang said. "She made 10 people millions of dollars. When she was a waitress, she provided better service with three times the tables (to tend).
Watching her was like watching a hummingbird or dragonfly. She would notice things and just (flit over). Someone drops a napkin, there'd be a new one before they knew it. She was a culinary concierge, the ultimate link between kitchen and guest."
Skaliwags name derives from the Dixie term "scalawag," originally an insult directed at Yankee sympathizers but now meaning a generally mischievous sort. Wiltfang tweaked the spelling to obtain the internet domain name. His mother, Georgia Butler, lovingly and teasingly used the nickname for her restless boy Chris. To convince Chris to move to Algoma from out west as an adult, she bought him his original location in 2011 in her former hometown, a rundown bar that sold for the garage-sale price of $75,000.
Menus at all of the locales partly reflect Wiltfang's Southern and Cajun upbringing, with choices of pulled pork, Cuban sandwiches, crabcakes, lobster rolls and garlic mashed potatoes on the side. But upon opening his doors, Wiltfang didn't worry too much about whether Northern taste buds would appreciate his Southern offerings, even though he keeps them on the mild side.
"I didn't have any choice; that's how I cook," he said. "They're either going to like it or learn to love it."
The only reluctance he encountered was when he ran out of the mash and substituted cheesy grits. His customers cringed, so the next night he told them it was polenta – boiled cornmeal served as a loaf or mushy porridge. Less familiarity, perhaps, but not carrying the lowbrow stigma. "We had to church it up a little," Wiltfang said.
Morning is Chef Chris' time to be touched by the muse. He writes specials and menus in chalk, so they can be erased and replaced every day. Wiltfang innovates and creates new because he prefers the imagination, but also because his first Algoma eatery lacked cooler space for meat and fish, forcing him to put fresh edible inventory on the grill immediately and make it up as he went along.
The Clark Street restaurant, within easy walking distance of Lake Michigan and the Crescent Beach boardwalk, was joined two years later by Wiltfang's Algoma Burger Company, located a few doors down on Fourth Street in the former Penguin City Pizza.
To prepare for opening the burger joint, Wiltfang sampled more than two dozen sandwiches in Minneapolis before choosing a best-of: a grass-fed Angus recipe with 15 percent brisket, which has leaner fat and seals in flavor. Online reviews were already drawing eager visitors from Door County, Green Bay and Kewaunee. Then Wiltfang's reputation grew further with the purchase of the former Cork restaurant in Kewaunee, counter-culturally renamed Uncorked; guest appearances on WLUK-TV's "Cooking With Amy" show; and pop-up visits from his traveling Skaliwagon, a commercial trailer with kitchen that's pulled up at the Green Bay Farmers Market among other stops.
The food truck set up shop late last summer in Sturgeon Bay for five-day-a-week lunches. Wiltfang bought the former Lenny's deli at a busy, five-way corner leading to the Egg Harbor Road business district. He said he will be in Sturgeon Bay earlier in the season this year, but plans for an indoor, sit-down eatery will be realized more slowly because the old building was "more than I bargained for."
"Also, it seems to be easier to get Packers season tickets than to get a liquor license in Sturgeon Bay," Wiltfang said.
He does promise some friendly and lively competition in Sturgeon Bay with buddy Rob Scaturo of Scaturo's Baking Co. & Cafe. Scaturo is moving his popular food truck from behind his West Side restaurant to a downtown sidewalk location. "We're going to have an old-fashioned chef's knife fight," Wiltfang said.
The new suburban Green Bay spot was 50 percent financed by 100 "founders" who essentially bought memberships for $1,000 each. Holders are repaid with $1,500 of food and drink, a thank-you party and a minted coin worth 10 percent off for life after the freebies are exhausted. They can give it to family or friends, no strings or fine print attached. Wiltfang sold out in two weeks.
"The rest is on credit cards," Wiltfang said. "If we were just a normal Joe, it might have been harder, but we have 10,000 Facebook followers and that allows us to reach a lot of people. This was my version of crowdsourcing. "I probably turned 200 people down, and that's hard for a dude like me. I like a bird in the hand."
Of course, Wiltfang can't be in five places at once, plus all the pop-ups, for customers who insist on seeing him and savoring his culinary handiwork – and his alone. Anecdotal comments on Facebook indicate that business in Algoma fell when Kewaunee opened, as fans gravitated to where Wiltfang was spending most of his time.
But he assures loyal customers they'll get the same experience with his son Marshall, daughter Alexa and the trusted chefs who run things in his absence. Chef Andy Fleischmann oversees Kewaunee with Wiltfang's girlfriend and catering/ marketing manager, Ellen Calkins.
"Fortunately, I have a son who's a lot like me; people are drawn to him," Wiltfang said. "The original Skaliwags is in good hands with him, as is the burger company with my daughter there. We're proud of the products. I might come in to make some sauces and check on the troops, but I'm going to be here (in Suamico) most of the summer for this startup."
However, Wiltfang concerns himself not the least with maintaining a taste-alike formula throughout the mini-empire, with literally many cooks in the kitchen. Consistency and predictability are for fast-food outlets, he said.
"Consistency is (bleep)," Wiltfang said. "Cows make different (tasting) milk because it's different cows. Just don't mess with my recipes, you know? Make my crabcakes the way my grandmother made them.
"Other than that, find your own way. I know you're a good chef, because I trained you."
