And that’s fine. The butter burger is not the type you’ll want to take down by the half-dozen (though I’m sure some people of a freakish, masochistic capacity do). That seems to speak to its Wisconsin ethos as well. The people of the Cheesehead state are famously a gloriously friendly bunch, and the food/drink they do best -- the sausages, the cheeses, the ice creams, the beers -- all seem to be convivial, social foods, meant to be enjoyed in big groups, at beer gardens and beer halls and other large places that may not have beer in the name.
But that excess belies a moderate spirit. And though I don’t want to sway into generalizing on a whole state’s character (though if you’re into that sort of thing, here you go!), most of the people I know from Wisconsin are agreeable and friendly without being timid. Unlike the combative fire of my Boston upbringing, or the passive-aggression masked by an air of “chillness” I’m surrounded by now in California, there seems to be a genuine moderating desire in Wisconsin. Except maybe when it comes to these burgers. My stomach hurts.