Blog Archives

Fire-Roasted Garlic: The Crown Jewel of Flavor

1/1/2026

Silky, golden, melt-in-your-mouth perfection — crafted slowly on the grill.
This isn’t just garlic.
This is transformation.
A humble clove entering the flames as sharp, pungent, ordinary --
and emerging soft, sweet, spreadable like butter on warm bread,
ready to elevate pizzas, steaks, veggies, or even eaten straight like a feral gourmet.
(Do we judge? Absolutely not.)
If regular garlic is a farmhand, grilled garlic is royalty.

We’re talking velvet texture. Caramelized edges.
The kind of aroma that makes neighbors “accidentally” walk by your yard twice.

✨ Ingredients

Whole garlic bulbs, plump like grandma’s pinchable cheeks
Cooking oil — olive oil if you feel cultured
Foil, folded like origami (but with less emotional breakdown)

🔥 Process — A Ritual, Not Just a Recipe

Decapitate delicately.
Slice the top off each garlic bulb to expose those tiny pearl-like cloves.
(It’s like a spa day. With knives.)
Anoint with oil.
Drizzle enough to glisten — not drown — each bulb.
Watch it sink into the cloves like sunshine into snow.
Enrobe in foil.
Wrap with care.
Not rushed tin-foil chaos --
this is garlic deserving of a silver gown.
Slow dance with fire.
Place foil-wrapped bulbs on the grill and let them roast gently
about 45 minutes, until they’re soft enough to squeeze like good news.
Reveal the treasure.
Peel back the foil.
Inhale deeply like you’re in a cooking show montage.
Press the cloves — they should ooze like warm roasted caramelized elegance.

🍽 Serving Suggestions (Fancy Edition)
Spread onto:
🟡 Crusty artisan bread
🟡 Fancy pizza crust like edible royalty
🟡 Grilled steak (tell people you dry-aged it even if you didn’t)
🟡 Charred veggies
🟡 Literally your finger — no shame
Pair it with wine to feel fancy.
Pair it with beer to feel honest.
This garlic turns any meal into something that sounds French when you say it slowly.
Even SPAM pizza. ESPECIALLY SPAM pizza.

Final Note of Culinary Wisdom
Grilled garlic doesn't ask for attention — it commands reverence.
Simple ingredients. Slow fire. Unreasonable satisfaction.
Michelin-level flavor with Midwest practicality.

Mad Dog & Merrill® Midwest Grill’n
Elevating garlic like it pays rent.

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Spicy Spam Pizza

1/1/2026

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Because sometimes dinner needs danger, dairy, and a questionable meat product.
This pizza is what happens when someone says:
“We don’t need fancy ingredients — we have SPAM.”
And instead of seeking help, we say:
“Put it on the grill.”
This recipe is loud, messy, spicy, delicious, and slightly chaotic — like a Wisconsin family reunion with fireworks. It dances on the line between brilliant and should-we-be-doing-this, and that’s exactly where Mad Dog & Merrill live.

Spam is returning like bell-bottoms and emotional damage.
Habanero cheese? Feta? Mozzarella?
We’re stacking cheeses like Midwest taxes in April.
This pizza hurts a little and heals a little.
Just like love. ❤️🔥

Ingredients
Gather these like a raccoon in a gas station snack aisle:

1 can Spam (the square meat of champions)
1 Pizza Stone for the Pit Boss
1 Pizza Crust
Habanero Cheese Spread (the fire starter)
½ cup Feta Cheese (fancy crumble for balance & bragging rights)
½ cup Jarred Hot Pepper Mix (a warning label as a topping)
2 cups Mozzarella (because dairy is personality)
1 tbsp Habanero Flakes (for insurance)
Grilled Garlic — squeezed like your stress at tax time

Directions
(Follow these instructions like a love letter to chaos)

Slice Spam into respectable chunks — or thin slices if you fear commitment.
Grill Spam on the Pit Boss until crispy on the edges like bacon who partied too hard.
Heat pizza stone in grill — HOT.
Because we respect crust.
Spread Habanero Cheese Spread on crust like sunblock at a waterpark.
Chop grilled Spam and scatter across pizza like confetti at a Milwaukee wedding.
Sprinkle Feta like a Greek grandma supervising.
Drain hot peppers and toss them on with reckless abandon.
Blanket in Mozzarella like winter on the UP.
Add Habanero Flakes because sanity is overrated.
Slide onto stone and grill until melty, bubbly, and slightly dangerous.
Remove and squeeze grilled garlic over the top like a finishing move in Mortal Kombat.

Serve immediately with milk nearby.
Or beer. Probably beer.

Flavor Breakdown
This pizza tastes like:
🔥 A dare
🔥 A prank you meant seriously
🔥 The moment pride overrides common sense
🔥 Heat that builds like Midwest small talk
🔥 Glory
Spam brings the salt, the nostalgia, the “I survived college on this” memories.
Cheese cools the burn THEN betrays you by encouraging more bites.
Hot peppers? They judge no one — they just burn everyone equally.

When to Serve

Ice fishing weekend
After losing a bet
Friday night when the cheese drawer is aggressive
Bachelor parties
Any event involving cousins
Cabin trip with no cell service

Also great for:
“We’re out of pepperoni, screw it — chaos pizza!”

Expected Dinner Table Quotes
“Who put SPAM on pizza?”
“Wait… why is this good?”
“It’s spicy — give me more.”
“I feel alive.”

Bonus Twist — Cranberry Drizzle (optional but dangerous)
YES.
Cranberries again.
Imagine a little sweetness cutting through the burn like a snowmobile through slush.

Warm cranberry sauce
Drizzle over slices before serving
Instant holiday-themed heartburn

Wisconsin elegance. ✨

Final Words
This pizza is unhinged.
This pizza is love.
This pizza is what happens when the Midwest gets bored.
Mad Dog & Merrill® Midwest Grill’n — where even SPAM gets a spotlight.

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Up North Lemonade

1/1/2026

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The official drink of: “I was only having one… and now I’m grilling at 11pm.”
This cocktail tastes like fishing at sunset, Walmart in flip-flops, and the first warm day after six months of complaining about winter. It’s the kind of drink that turns yard work into a social event and a Tuesday into a holiday.
We’re calling it Up North Lemonade because:

It’s bright and sunny like Door County in July ☀️

It uses Sun Drop Soda because we’re loyal and hydrated in citrus form 🍋
And it packs bourbon like someone who said “just one more” thirteen minutes ago 🥃

If you make this at a family reunion, half the cousins will ask for the recipe
and the other half will steal your cup.

Ingredients
(or as we call them: happiness building blocks)

1 cup Lemonade
1 oz Triple Sec
2 oz Bourbon (don’t measure. Listen to your heart.)
1 oz Sun Drop Soda (for sparkle, zest, and Wisconsin street cred)
Lemon & Orange Wedges for garnish — or for snacks if patience is low

Directions
(very easy — even after one drink)

Fill a glass halfway with ice.
- Halfway, because we need room for flavor, decisions, and regret.
Add lemonade, triple sec, and bourbon.
- If you accidentally pour too much bourbon, congratulations — you’re doing great.
Add a splash of Sun Drop.
- Just enough to make it fizzy like gossip at deer camp.
Stir, swirl, or shake like you’re mixing paint at Home Depot.
Garnish with lemon & orange wedges.
- Place gently… or throw them in like you’re mad at fruit.

Sip responsibly.
Or irresponsibly with friends.
It’s your lemonade — live your truth. 🍹

Tasting Notes
This drink is:
🍋 Refreshing enough to fix your attitude
🔥 Warm enough to cause oversharing
🍊 Bright enough to require sunglasses indoors
😎 Perfect for patios, pontoons, and post-grill victory laps
The Sun Drop finish brings summer-in-a-can energy,
triple sec kicks open the front door,
and bourbon pays the tab.
Serve it in a mason jar to feel rustic.
Serve it in a red Solo cup to feel dangerous.
Serve it in a fancy glass if company’s watching.
Just don’t let Grandpa try three.
You will be Ubering a tractor home.

Optional Upgrades
Because we don’t know how to leave well enough alone:
🔻 Add muddled mint
🔻 Add cranberries for Northwoods flair (oh look — cranberries again 😏)
🔻 Float cherries on top because Wisconsin
🔻 Rim the glass in sugar… OR seasoning if chaos calls
You can even make it frozen like the lake in January. Blend. Sip. Scream.

Perfect For

Grill days
Fish fry nights
Tailgates
Pontoon cruises
“We’re smoking a brisket and it’s a commitment” situations
Watching Merrill dance around a grill unsupervised

Mad Dog & Merrill® Midwest Grill’n — where lemonade grows up and gets bourbon.
Powered by Sun Drop Soda. Fueled by the Midwest.

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Pineapple Ham Pizza

1/1/2026

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Summer luau meets Wisconsin supper club meets “the grill was already on.”
Optional Chaos Add-On: CRANBERRIES — Because we’re wild like that.
This pizza feels like someone took a tropical vacation, came home, and said:
“You know what this needs?
Ham. Pineapple. Three peppers. Swiss cheese.
AND LET’S GRILL IT.”
It’s sweet. It’s smoky. It’s colorful like grandma’s 1980s Tupperware set.

It screams backyard cookout, dock party, "fine, we’re using the leftover ham," and midwestern rebellion all at once.
If Jimmy Buffet, Door County, and a Packers tailgate had a baby --
this is what the child would eat.

Ingredients (Gather like you’re prepping for a luau in Wisconsin)

1 Ham Steak — the thick, glorious kind
1 Pizza Stone for the Pit Boss
1 Pizza Crust
½ cup Da Works Pizza Sauce (don’t skimp — sauce = personality)
1 Pineapple — fresh, not canned, we’re classy today
1 Orange Pepper
1 Red Pepper
1 Yellow Pepper
¼ cup Cooking Oil (just enough to make cardiologists nervous)
1 Tbsp Gramma Hazel’s Seasoning
1 cup Shredded Swiss Cheese because we’re fancy
BONUS CHAOS ADD-IN:
A handful of dried cranberries or Door County fresh for sweetness + bragging rights 🍒

(If anyone questions the cranberries, look them dead in the eyes and say, “It’s regional cuisine, Deb.”)

Directions — A Midwest Art Form

Cut peppers into thick wedges, the kind big enough to impress Uncle Jerry.
Toss peppers in cooking oil and Gramma Hazel’s like a salad that just got promoted.
Throw peppers on the Pit Boss. Listen for the sizzle. Feel alive.
Slice pineapple into rings and place next to peppers.
(This is when neighbors peek over the fence. Let them suffer.)
Add ham steak to grill. Hear angels sing.
Meanwhile, pizza stone goes into the Pit Boss to heat up.
A cold stone is a crime.
Spread Da Works sauce on crust like you're frosting a cake for someone you like.
Remove grilled ham, chop like a lumberjack, scatter across crust.
Remove pineapple, chop into chunks, show no mercy.
Remove peppers, chop into bite-sized rainbow confetti.
Add to pizza. Step back. Admire your palette like Bob Ross with meat.
Sprinkle Swiss cheese over the top like snow in April (inevitable).
Optional chaos moment:
Toss cranberries on top for tartness, color, and Wisconsin sass.
(This is how legends are born.)
Slide pizza onto stone and grill until the cheese melts, bubbles, and starts whispering “eat me.”

Cut. Serve. Brace for applause.
If someone says “I don’t like pineapple on pizza,”
give them one bite and watch their worldview collapse.

What It Tastes Like
☀ Pineapple = summer vacation you didn’t take
🔥 Ham = backyard Saturday
🌶 Peppers = garden flex
🧀 Swiss = class
🍒 Cranberries = Midwest identity crisis (the fun kind)
Each bite is sweet, savory, smoky --
like Hawaii moved to Wisconsin and immediately bought a snow blower.

Perfect For

Weeknight “weird but amazing” dinners
Summertime by the lake
Wintertime when you’re pretending it's summer by the lake
“We bought a whole ham and now what?” situations
Bribing neighbors during yard work
Impressing friends who think you only grill brats

Expected Conversation at the Table
“Is that… pineapple?”
“WITH ham?”
“AND peppers?”
“…are those CRANBERRIES?”
two minutes of silence
“Give me another slice.”

Final Thoughts
This pizza is fun. Unhinged.
Sweet and smoky like a bonfire romance.
It’s colorful, cheerful, and borderline disrespectful to tradition — exactly how Mad Dog & Merrill like it.
Grill it. Eat it.
Take a picture first — you’ll need proof later.

Mad Dog & Merrill® Midwest Grill’n --
Where fruit, meat, cheese, and chaos live together in harmony.

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Blue Cheese & Crab Pizza

1/1/2026

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Blue Cheese & Crab Pizza (with Optional — but Let’s Be Honest, Mandatory — Awesome Shrimp)
For grillers who want their pizza to smell fancy, taste fancy, but still feel like Wisconsin.
This is not a normal pizza.
This pizza is what happens when someone at deer camp says:
“Hey, you guys think blue cheese and seafood would be good on this crust?”
And instead of saying no, everyone looks at each other like
“…well now we gotta try it.”

And THAT… is the spirit of Midwest Grill’n.
We don’t stop to think. We fire up the Pit Boss and see what happens.
This pizza is bold.
It’s confusing.
It’s the culinary equivalent of seeing a guy ice fishing shirtless at -3°.
You want to judge it — but you also respect it.

This recipe is for the brave.
If ranch is the wildest thing you’ve ever put on pizza — turn back now.
If you think seafood belongs only near water — this may ruin you.
If you love blue cheese so much you’d wear it as perfume — welcome home.

We’re grilling blue cheese + mock crab + olives + Parmesan like fancy food critics --
but also adding Awesome Shrimp because:

we like protein
we like chaos
we are FRIENDS OF FLAVOR
and 10/10 midwestern uncles agree: shrimp fixes everything

Ingredients
(gather these like you’re heading into battle with a spatula)

1 Pizza Stone for your Pit Boss Grill
1 Pizza Crust (homemade, store-bought, or whatever was on sale)
1 Tub Blue Cheese Spread (the funkier the better)
1 Package Mock Crab Legs (because we’re fancy, not financially reckless)
Awesome Shrimp — optional in theory // mandatory in practice 🦐
- Grilled, pan-fried in garlic butter, sautéed, or stolen off someone else’s plate.
1 cup Black Olives
1 cup Parmesan Cheese
Optional toppings if you’re wild: red pepper flakes, lemon zest, extra cheddar (we don’t judge)

Directions
(read like a recipe — do like a ceremony)

Preheat your Pit Boss and place the pizza stone inside so it gets piping hot.
A cold stone is like bad romance — disappointing and avoidable.
Lay out your crust. Admire it. Whisper encouragement.
Smear blue cheese spread across it like paint on a barn.
Thick. Fearlessly thick.
Chop mock crab legs. Pretend you caught them yourself even if they came from aisle 5.
Scatter crab like snow at Lambeau in December.
Shrimp Time:
- Grill them.
- Butter them.
- Season them.
- Pretend you’re on the Food Network.
- Chop and add generously. (More shrimp = more bragging rights)
Sprinkle olives and Parmesan like you’re casting a spell of delicious confusion.
Slide onto the stone and grill until the cheese melts, the edges crisp, and neighbors start sniffing around like raccoons near a fish fry dumpster.
Remove from heat and let sit JUST long enough to not wreck your mouth.

Slice. Serve. Watch the room go quiet as everyone processes what they just tasted.

Taste Breakdown
Blue cheese brings the funk.
Crab brings the coast.
Awesome Shrimp brings the BOOM.
Parmesan unites the flavors like a church potluck mediator.
Olives add that “who invited her? … actually she’s great” energy.
It’s seafood meets supper club.
Pizza meets cocktail hour.
Fancy meets flannel.
You won’t know if you love it or fear it until bite #2 --
and by bite #3 you’re finishing the whole thing.

When to Serve This Dish

When people think you only grill bratwursts? FLEX.
When you want to test friendships with blue cheese opinions.
When there’s an “R” in the month. (Seafood superstition bonus points)
Ice fishing weekend. Because contrast is comedy.
Friday Lent dinner — Catholic grandmas won’t know how to feel.
Any night you’re feeling bougie but still wearing sweatpants.

Conversation You Will Hear While Eating This
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Why is this good?”
“I want another slice but I need to sit with my feelings first.”
“Is this pizza… classy?”
“Pass the shrimp.”

Final Word
Seafood on pizza is bold.
Blue cheese on pizza is bold.
Blue cheese + crab + Awesome Shrimp grilled outdoors?
That’s Mad Dog & Merrill® bold.
We are not here to follow rules.
We are here to make memories, fill bellies, and scare cardiologists.

Mad Dog & Merrill® Midwest Grill’n --
Where recipes are suggestions, and chaos is seasoning.

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Fire-Roasted Garlic: The Crown Jewel of Flavor

Spicy Spam Pizza

Up North Lemonade

Pineapple Ham Pizza

Blue Cheese & Crab Pizza

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