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Address and Contact Information
Address: 117 N Wall St, Denmark, WI 54208
Phone: (920) 863-2488
Website: http://susterschicken.com/
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Susters Arcade | Family Restaurant | Denmark, WI
920-863-2488 – Enjoy delicious food in a fantastic and fun family-oriented atmosphere by stopping by Susters Arcade.
Suster’s Arcade | Denmark WI – Facebook
Suster’s Arcade ; Details. . 96% recommend (295 Reviews). . $. . Closed now. . 117 N Wall St, Denmark, WI, United States, 54208 ; Links. . susterschicken.com …
Susters Arcade, 117 N Wall St, Denmark, WI 54208, US – MapQuest
Susters Arcade in Denmark, WI is a popular local entertainment destination that offers a variety of arcade games and activities for visitors of all ages.
Reviews
Debra Norton
We were not permitted to take our leftovers with us. We did not ask for more; it was our first round. They offered to charge us $17 more to take some home. Chicken was dry and the ribs were not something to rave about. Probably won’t make it a point to return there. Folks were friendly and service was good
… moreRachael Vronch
Visiting from out of town and maybe that was the problem, but the male bartender was so incredibly rude. He made it seem like we were an inconvenience for being there. We made the mistake of getting a burger and onion rings over the chicken. The burger was the worst burger I’ve ever had. Both food and service were super disappointing.
… moreRandy Grimm
Excellent place especially for their Sunday family style chicken and tips. Great service good drinks great food wheelchair accessible
… moreRen
Family style meals are really good here. Would recommend
… moreCj Kronforst
The best bar and restaurant with the best broasted chicken family style dinner in America and the fish fry is good too. I recommend getting there early because it’s always packed on the weekends, but if you don’t want to wait, you can always get their chicken to go!
… morerussell tordeur
Great Walleye fish fry.They don’t keep you at the bar very long
Dale’s a awesome bar tender When they call your name your food is on the table
… moreDale’s a awesome bar tender When they call your name your food is on the table
roastnhoes gooftroop
“Where the Fish Fry and Waitress Emily Make You Believe in Miracles”
Let me start by saying that I have eaten a lot of fish in my day. I’ve eaten it grilled, baked, broiled, blackened, pickled, fried, smoked, and once (regretfully) microwaved in a gas station parking lot. But nothing—and I mean nothing—prepared me for the transcendent, enlightenment I experienced at this fish fry.
As I walked into the place, I knew something magical was about to happen. It wasn’t the warm lighting or even the family of six sitting across from me wearing matching “Cod Squad” T-shirts (although they certainly added ambiance). No, it was when Emily—our server, our guide, our crispy-fish-slinging shepherd—glided to our table like a majestic eagle with a tray of tartar sauce and pure joy.
Emily deserves her own paragraph. No, her own memoir. This woman is the Beyoncé of waitstaff. Friendly without being fake, funny without trying too hard. She addressed my uncle’s weird questions with the grace of a seasoned diplomat and brought us extra napkins exactly three seconds before my cousin knocked over his coleslaw. She’s either psychic or trained by the CIA.
Now let’s talk about the fish. Oh. My. Cod.
This wasn’t your average, limp, greasy slab of mystery meat. No, this was the Fabio of fried fish—golden, perfectly crisped, and absolutely glistening under the ceiling fan like it was ready for a romance novel cover shoot. The breading? It deserves its own Hall of Fame. I don’t know what sorcery went into it, but it was the perfect ratio of crunch to flake. Not too thick, not too thin—like it was custom tailored by a fish-fry tailor named Giuseppe in a small coastal town. It hugged the fish like it loved it. Like they had a story together.
There wasn’t a soggy spot in sight, and the texture? If angels had exoskeletons, this would be it.
Each bite was like a crunchy lullaby that rocked my taste buds gently into a state of nirvana. If breading were currency, I’d have offered to pay my student loans in crispy bits of this sacred shell.
Sides? Immaculate. Baby reds that didn’t taste like they gave up on life. Coleslaw that whispered, “I’m not just a filler; I matter.” And don’t even get me started on the tartar sauce—tangy, creamy, and possibly blessed by a clergyman. I dunked everything in it, including (accidentally) my car keys.
By the end of the meal, I was full, and at peace. Emily gave us all a warm smile like she was sending us off on a journey. And in a way, she was. A journey into post-fish-fry euphoria.
So if you’re wondering whether you should go here for a fish fry? Yes. Go. Run. Cannonball your way into a booth and ask for Emily. Tell her the fish fry-review-lady sent you.
And for the love of Poseidon, get the breaded walleye. You deserve that kind of happiness.
… moreLet me start by saying that I have eaten a lot of fish in my day. I’ve eaten it grilled, baked, broiled, blackened, pickled, fried, smoked, and once (regretfully) microwaved in a gas station parking lot. But nothing—and I mean nothing—prepared me for the transcendent, enlightenment I experienced at this fish fry.
As I walked into the place, I knew something magical was about to happen. It wasn’t the warm lighting or even the family of six sitting across from me wearing matching “Cod Squad” T-shirts (although they certainly added ambiance). No, it was when Emily—our server, our guide, our crispy-fish-slinging shepherd—glided to our table like a majestic eagle with a tray of tartar sauce and pure joy.
Emily deserves her own paragraph. No, her own memoir. This woman is the Beyoncé of waitstaff. Friendly without being fake, funny without trying too hard. She addressed my uncle’s weird questions with the grace of a seasoned diplomat and brought us extra napkins exactly three seconds before my cousin knocked over his coleslaw. She’s either psychic or trained by the CIA.
Now let’s talk about the fish. Oh. My. Cod.
This wasn’t your average, limp, greasy slab of mystery meat. No, this was the Fabio of fried fish—golden, perfectly crisped, and absolutely glistening under the ceiling fan like it was ready for a romance novel cover shoot. The breading? It deserves its own Hall of Fame. I don’t know what sorcery went into it, but it was the perfect ratio of crunch to flake. Not too thick, not too thin—like it was custom tailored by a fish-fry tailor named Giuseppe in a small coastal town. It hugged the fish like it loved it. Like they had a story together.
There wasn’t a soggy spot in sight, and the texture? If angels had exoskeletons, this would be it.
Each bite was like a crunchy lullaby that rocked my taste buds gently into a state of nirvana. If breading were currency, I’d have offered to pay my student loans in crispy bits of this sacred shell.
Sides? Immaculate. Baby reds that didn’t taste like they gave up on life. Coleslaw that whispered, “I’m not just a filler; I matter.” And don’t even get me started on the tartar sauce—tangy, creamy, and possibly blessed by a clergyman. I dunked everything in it, including (accidentally) my car keys.
By the end of the meal, I was full, and at peace. Emily gave us all a warm smile like she was sending us off on a journey. And in a way, she was. A journey into post-fish-fry euphoria.
So if you’re wondering whether you should go here for a fish fry? Yes. Go. Run. Cannonball your way into a booth and ask for Emily. Tell her the fish fry-review-lady sent you.
And for the love of Poseidon, get the breaded walleye. You deserve that kind of happiness.
Martin Volk
We had the chicken and rib special. The chicken was awesome. The “ribs” were interesting. Unique sauce flavor. The other side dishes were quite good. Reasonable prices, friendly service. Great old fashioneds.
… moreRuh Diehl
Family style chicken and fish night. That means all you can eat. Great fish, and great chicken. I highly recommend it.
… more