As a result, we find ourselves typing replies with recommendations for other supperclubs in Berlin every few days.
To save time in future, we thought we'd write this blog post with details of what we know about our fellow supperclub hosts.
When Wisconsin native Holly De Ruyter came to Chicago for college, she was bewildered to find there were no supper clubs. As a documentary filmmaker, she toyed with the idea of making a movie about the supper club phenomenon (homey, family-owned eateries specializing in heavy food and lots of brandy old fashioneds, which lubricate the companionable, "Cheers"-like ambience) but De Ruyter did not have a car.
And the only way to get to Wisconsin's supper clubs — most of them tucked away on back roads in sparsely populated areas — is to drive.
This is not the first film to cover the topic in recent years.
(Although there are supper clubs dotted across the upper Midwest, they are a true staple in Wisconsin.) "I started making my film before any other documentaries about supper clubs came out," De Ruyter said, but stressed that her film is different because it delves into the history, including this tidbit: The rural setting for most of these supper clubs?
That stems from their origins as roadhouses during Prohibition.
According to the film, many in Wisconsin were defying the ban on alcohol but not openly. After Prohibition was repealed, establishments that were among the first to receive liquor licenses were those that served food, which is why many of those roadhouses transformed into what we now know as supper clubs.
And they were relatively easy to get to if you had a car because, even in the days before the interstate highway system, Wisconsin had an extensive network of paved country roads that were built to ensure the state's dairy farmers were able to transport their product to market in any weather.