Last year, I bought my childhood home and gave it a special little name that only a handful of people will understand or remember. Because apparently, a second mortgage wasn’t enough; the house needed an entire backstory. Here’s a little story about how Devi Bara got its name.
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Hello Wisconsin!
If you are Gen X or older and grew up near Baraboo, WI (I call it Boo), the name Devi-Bara might ring a bell. I borrowed completely stole the name from the old Devi-Bara Resort near Devil’s Lake, a place with cottages, a supper club, and a little slice of local history I wanted to carry into the next chapter of my life. So hopefully now you understand it: Devi (Devil’s Lake), Bara (Baraboo).
If you didn’t grow up in or around Baraboo, pull up a chair. We need to talk about a lake, some old postcards, and why dinner in Wisconsin can sometimes require an entire evening.
Devil’s Lake State Park played a big part in my childhood. My parents took us on afternoon adventures to hike the bluffs. My dad took me fishing in the little boat I now own. In high school, my friends and I would climb onto Rock 8, take a running start, hold our breath, and jump off (BTDubs, don’t do that. It’s super dangerous, especially if you don’t know exactly which rock is “safe”). When I think about growing up in Baraboo, that lake comes back again and again.
It’s funny what becomes normal when you grow up somewhere. These beautiful bluffs and this lake are right there, and you’re just a kid going swimming. You don’t stop to think, “Wow, someday I’m gonna be incredibly sentimental about this.”
Friday Night Fish Fry and Old Fashioneds
These days, I still hike the bluffs, but now I go with high school friends before Friday night fish fry. After work, we gather for a little nature, catch up chit chat, and then dim lighting, wood paneling, and comfort food (many times with our parents in tow). It’s a pretty solid itinerary.
I love that we do this. Decades have passed since high school, yet we can all still plan to meet at the lake and go to dinner afterward. There’s something comforting about spending time with people who knew you before you had it all figured out (ya, I don’t even remotely have it all figured out). People who remember your questionable hair decisions (Amy, if you’re reading this, I’m looking at you). People who may or may not have photographic evidence (jesus, that’s a terrifying thought).
The original Devi-Bara Resort belonged to an earlier chapter of Devil’s Lake and Baraboo. The public library preserves local history dating to 1922 and describes a hotel and six cottages tucked into an apple orchard about half a mile from the lake. By 1930, an addition had expanded the restaurant’s seating capacity to 200.
I have a bunch of old postcards of the resort, and holding a little piece of this place makes me want to know more. Someone thought this was worth photographing. Someone bought the postcard. Maybe they mailed it to a friend, or maybe they tucked it into a drawer where it sat for decades.
And now I’m here, collecting them and naming my childhood home after the place. This is what happens when you leave me unsupervised with vintage things. But what I particularly love is the supper club.
One local on Facebook remembers Devi Bara with a separate bar and dining room, a maître d’, and organ music. Local lore says a sommelier wore a little silver tasting cup on a chain to sample the wine before serving it. Wait, wut? A wine-tasting necklace and live music? Why do we no longer have fancy things like this anymore? If you can’t tell, I’m fully committed to dinner…or as we say in the Midwest, supper.
What the Heck is a Supper Club?
If you live outside the Midwest, I should probably pause here to explain the supper club situation.
A Wisconsin supper club is a restaurant like no other. They are often family-run, and while you wait for your table, you grab a drink at the bar and slowly make your way to a dining room that serves classics like tenderloin or rib-eye steaks, Friday night fish fry, Saturday night prime rib, and your choice of potato. You always start with soup or salad, and if you’re in the know, you upgrade to the wedge salad or spinach salad with hot bacon dressing (yes, I said hot bacon dressing and yes I could swim in a vat of it). Dining at a supper club takes hours.
An Old Fashioned (everyone orders theirs a little differently, from brandy to whiskey, sweet, sour, or press; mine is a Southern Comfort Old Fashioned with seltzer and two olives, very 70s-style) is the drink of choice. You’ll always start with a relish tray filled with little things to nibble on, including a delicious cheese spread and plastic-wrapped breadsticks. Be prepared to settle in for multiple courses.
Many supper clubs finish the evening with an ice cream drink like a Brandy Alexander (my dessert of choice) or Grasshopper. Ya, Wisconsin supplies you with a copious amount of dairy and booze.
Back in the day, the supper club in Baraboo was The Ritz, and my family dined there quite often. The Ritz was fancy AF, complete with a salad bar and red shag carpet on the walls. When I was 8 years old, I decided I loved lobster. My parents were thrilled (insert sarcasm here). The server would giggle.
I also ordered a Grasshopper (that’s what all the adults ordered for dessert, so I followed suit), and that server actually gave me one! My mom was like, “Oh my god!” But see, in Wisconsin, if you are under 18 but accompanied by a parent, you can order a boozy beverage. Gives new meaning to that scene in Sweet Home Alabama when Reese Witherspoon says, “You have a baby! In a bar!”
In case I haven’t made it clear enough, I love a good supper club. There’s just something about the whole experience that makes me very happy. Sitting down together. Ordering a fancy shmancy dinner and letting the conversation wander.
Of course, I can appreciate a Michelin-star restaurant with a bougie menu, but I will always have a soft spot for a rural Wisconsin, family-owned restaurant. In fact, I prefer it. The Midwest runs deep in this gal, and that’s where Devi Bara comes to life.
Welcome to Devi Bara
The name brings together so many things I love about my hometown. Devil’s Lake. Going out to dinner. Old places with hilarious stories. Friends I’ve known forever. A reason to head back to Boo and spend a little time there. Giving my childhood home that name feels like a small nod to all of it.
This house was packed with history before I even moved a chair. I know what the rooms used to look like. I know earlier versions of myself who lived in them. The girl who listened to The Cure and wanted to go to art school would probably have a few thoughts about me buying the place.
First question: “I’m sorry, what? All you wanted was to move as far away as possible, and now you wanna move back?” Second question: “Can we afford that?” Both are fair questions, girl.
But I think that angsty teenager would understand everything once she learned that her sister would die, and the house was really one of the only things she had left to hold onto. Every damn time I pay that mortgage, I silently think, “I gotchu, girl.” Fun fact: she was cremated (stay with me here, that’s not the fun fact), but we had no idea what to do with her ashes, so after almost 20 years of sitting in a box, my parents and I decided to sprinkle her around the outside of the house. And ya, I know, a house is kind of a big tombstone, but it was worth it. Hopefully she’s happy here.
Besides, who wouldn’t want to make something of her own out of a place she already knows by heart?
Decorating Devi Bara has been a very slow-paced project. I’m often asked, “So what’sthe deal? When will you start renovating?” I’m taking my time and thinking through every decision. No whoopsies.
And you can only take on so much when you’re also making room for the ordinary life. Making plans with friends. Going for a hike. Heading out for fish fry. Coming back to the house afterward. Playing euchre (IYKYK).
I jumped off those rocks as a teen. May or may not have gone skinny dipping after a Saturday night dance at the chateau. Now I walk those bluffs with people I have known for 30-40 years. A girl can get a little sappy thinking about that. How a place can keep showing up in your life, even as the people and occasions change. I’m grateful I still get to go back. Not everyone has the opportunity.
So, welcome to Devi Bara. Where old postcards and matchbooks hide in drawers and rooms are half decorated but still full of memories. Now all I need is to find a sommelier wearing a cute necklace to serve me a Brandy Alexander.