A dinner winner: Ness Lutheran's fish fry in Mekinock reels in the crowds

Nowhere in the Bible does it say what to do with 10 jumbo-sized bins of leftover coleslaw or two giant tubs of homemade tartar sauce in case of a winter storm. And that just may be the reason the Men's Club Walleye Fish Fry went on as planned Friday in the basement of the little white church nestled in the pines.

The twice-a-year event has been a tradition since the late 1970s, and despite Friday's looming storm, organizer Derek Roach said the event never has been canceled.

"This is our community deal and like good North Dakotans, we step up and do what needs to be done," Roach said.

Even the year of a terrible ice storm, he said 150 people still showed up hungry. That's no surprise when you consider 100 fliers are posted in communities near and far.

"This is such a good fish fry that even the Catholics from Larimore are coming here tonight to learn how to do it," Derek's father, Jerry Roach, said with a laugh.

It's one of the few times people get to see their friends and neighbors anymore, he added.

"All the places the locals used to go to see each other—the bars and community centers—have disappeared," Jerry said. "So, this is another big thing for that. People get a chance to meet the new neighbors."

Reeling it in

There may have been no question the fish fry was going to happen Friday, but after Derek was on the horn all week with a retired meteorologist, the organizers decided Thursday to move the event up by an hour.

That would give people plenty of time to beat the anticipated storm and possible blowing snow.

After all, there was a lot at stake. The extremely popular fish fry usually feeds as many as 250 guests, and the money raised pays the heating bills, upkeep for the church and other necessities, such as Sunday School. Last year, the men's group was able to contribute $10,000 toward the cost of a new steel roof for the church built in 1877.

So, wearing their matching white T-shirts, the first of the work crew arrived by 1:30 p.m. to begin the prepwork. While Derek's wife, Stacy Roach, stayed busy filling platters and getting the front counter stocked with servers, plates, napkins and silverware, the men threw the protective cardboard on the floor and fired up the fryers.

"My phone has been blowing up. I think we're going to feed a few people tonight," Derek said as he quickly shuffled between the kitchen and the dining hall to greet the first few guests. "I have them trained now, so they sit where we ask them to sit so we can keep the flow going and people don't have to wait."

Of course, timing and strategic table placement are everything in a hall meant to seat 80 people comfortably.

"We're going to ruin walleye fish fries for you," he teases another newcomer. "You won't want to eat it anywhere else after you eat it here."

Soon, dozens more guests begin to show up, determined not to let a faraway storm deprive them of their chance to pile their plates high with hand-breaded walleye fillets, baked potatoes, corn, caramelized carrots, sweet potatoes, coleslaw and buttered hard rolls (with an ice cream bar for dessert).

The cooks

All the while, the jovial cooks share laughs and old stories as they move the fish one step to the right and down the efficient assembly line along the kitchen's back counter.

"It's always walleye," the men say almost in unison.

Then, Jerry cracks: "We usually get it from the Turtle River, but it was frozen too deep this year."

He's up first on the line as he dips the fresh-frozen walleye in a hot bath before stripping the skin with one pull of the pliers.

Next, the generous fillets are tossed in a clean bus tray for Ralph Snowbeck, a three-generation bread-batter man.

Then, it's Todd Anderson's turn to toss them in the tank. He takes his job seriously, calibrating his thermometer every year.

"The fish has to be at least 145 degrees. That's the minimum temperature for safety," Anderson says. "If you overdo it, they dry out and they're no good. We take the time to probe every fillet."

Bruce Carlson is here, too. One of the fish fry's original organizers, he can't recall ever missing one.

"I guess I was one of the first," he says. "Back then, I got to do what I was told to do."

This time he was keeping an eye on the double racks of giant red potatoes baking in the oven while also keeping up with the dirty dishes.

He might just have to save some for Jerry though, who calls himself the "pot scrubber."

"Or maybe the pot stirrer," Anderson chimes in.

Back and forth, the men joke.

Snowbeck explains the kitchen help changes all night long with young and old pitching in.

"You'll see people from 6 to 70 helping out back here tonight," he says. "We always get it done. If we don't, somebody else will."

Stringing 'em

Another longtime helper, David Bakke, says he thinks one of the reasons their fish fry is so popular is because they use real walleye.

"A lot of those other ones are using cod, and that's just not the same," he says. "We've had the same recipes for all these years, and people really like it. That's why they keep coming back."

Guests James and Lois Petersen had no complaints.

"We've been coming to this for years," James said. "This one stands out a little bit more than the rest of them."

It was a first for Brittany German who brought her family. "This is the best," she said.

From Howard Carpenter: "Mine is good, real good."

And Todd Paulson: "Very good."

Even 10-year-old Xxaxx Boyer gave the fish a thumbs-up. A picky eater, he took only a single piece of fish for his dinner, father Kevin Boyer said.

Well, he did try the homemade tartar sauce, Xxaxx corrected. But that was "Baaaah."

I guess you can't win them all.

(But wait, maybe you can. It looks like Jesus came through again. The final guest count was 265, and the cooks miraculously had 20 fillets to spare.)

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https://www.grandforksherald.com/news/4422368-dinner-winner-ness-lutherans-fish-fry-mekinock-reels-crowds

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