Well, many thanks to:
Mr. and Mrs. Jim in Logan Square, and also to Matt 986 and his wife Susan, for coming up with about 36 hours' worth of The Best of Indianapolis. I'm sure there's at least another 36 hours' worth, but we certainly felt like what we saw and did was primo, not-to-be-had-in-Chicago stuff. I imagine many Indianapolitans would think it odd that, as their restaurant scene seems to be getting hipper and finer, we focused on places that had been around for 75+ years each, but history is the one thing you can't buy when opening a restaurant, and so we really enjoyed a couple of Indy classics for precisely what they are that we don't have here.
As noted
elsewhere, we stopped at Calumet Fisheries on the way down, it took longer than we expected, and so our first planned stop, the Sterns-approved Mug'n'Bun, didn't happen. Then we slept late and missed the breakfast rendezvous, so someone else will have to report on that. Instead we visited what has to be one of the coolest buildings in the midwest, and a masterpiece of early 20th century American architecture completely unknown to me: the fantastic ziggurat World War Memorial, a building out of Lang's
Metropolis come to life:
It's so moving a memorial, even the
characters on PBS Kids felt the need to pay homage on this day:
There's also a very impressive monument to the Civil War (and other conflicts of the 19th century) a few blocks south on a nice circular plaza facing the capitol building. It'd be worth spending some time poking around that, but we had a lunch date to keep at...
As you can see, this is a classic East Coast deli, starting with the New York attitude...
And extending to old Jewish favorites like Three Bean Salad.
Shapiro's is like if Jews left a deli behind and Methodists tried to run it as faithfully as possible. Tables are spaced far apart (and so neatly organized Stanley Kubrick could have shot Full Metal Jacket in there), people speak quietly amongst themselves, they eat desserts that look like this:
It's unmistakably got a midwestern vibe, and yet...
This is a serious pastrami sandwich. I can't say I took it as that much of a recommendation when Jim touted the amount of bread on a Shapiro's sandwich, but after I tried it I understand-- this rye, baked in house, is so fresh when you get it that you need a hearty chunk of it to contain the soft, supple meat. And the meat-- Manny's pastrami is so heavily cured that it comes out transformed with a consistency like bacon, Shapiro's cure is light enough that the meat is still recognizably brisket, in both looks and taste.
On the other hand, I can't praise everything, so there
was this:
No, it's not a macaroon, it's a potato pancake. It was okay, but far from the best I've ever had. And if you like your pickle to exude garlic, this isn't the deli for you-- given a choice, in each case Shapiro's tends to choose the milder end of the spectrum (within the expected range for deli food). But Shapiro's was excellent overall, very nice cherry pie and rhubarb pie ended the meal, and if the idea of deli food with friendly, "yes ma'am" service isn't too much of a disconnect for you, it's well worth a visit.
We spent the afternoon at the Children's Museum before meeting up again with the group at:
"Get away from the mine-run of club or hotel service." The
mine-run, whatever that is (pushing a truck full of coal a thousand feet underground?).
Exactly the metaphor I would have chosen for being a rich white guy eating lunch in a downtown men's club circa 1928....
Hollyhock Hill was once out in the country, now it's surrounded by suburbia, but it still has the feel of a family-run roadhouse serving a prewar midwestern supper club menu-- fried chicken is the star, whitefish, steak and orange roughy the no-surprises-here alternatives. It's all served family style, the meal starts with tomato juice and relishes (back then, I wonder, did you tend to pack your own vodka to turn it into a Bloody Mary?), then an iceberg salad with their own sweet vinaigrette (bottles for sale in the foyer), pickled beets, cottage cheese, etc.; then the main courses arrive with classic sides:
And, though by this point you're stuffed as can be, it concludes with vanilla ice cream served with a little three-dish lazy susan containing hot fudge, mint and butterscotch syrups. After which, you will be hard pressed not to pick up a banjo and while away the rest of the evening on the porch singing "Old Folks at Home."
You get bad versions of the classic American cuisine so often in coffeeshops and the like that you should go to Hollyhock Hill to be reminded why people liked it in the first case. The salad and beets sparkled with a vinegar tang, the green beans had plenty of bacon flavor, the biscuits (though the midwestern dinner type rather than the southern breakfast type) were flaky and tender, even the artificial toppings for the ice cream were surprisingly good. And the fried chicken-- Jim made a persuasive case at dinner for the idea that no one in Chicago really remembers what good fried chicken is any more because we always get it deep fried, which means a coating thick enough to withstand deep frying, etc. This was pan fried and lightly, subtly coated, tasting of chicken rather than oil. Really excellent, I'd be hard pressed to say whether Shapiro's or Hollyhock Hill was the star of the day.
The next morning (today, now that you mention it) we stopped on the way back for breakfast in Zionsville, a vast suburban sprawl with a tiny nugget of 19th century brick-street quaintness at its center, now filled with the usual Ye Olde antique shops, muffinaterias, knicknack and gimcrack emporia, etc. I think these plaques on two adjacent buildings sum it up nicely--
Zionsville, Then and Now:
The
brother of the Painter of Light! Not since I met Bobby Knight's Aunt Myrtle or John Grisham's dentist has there been such a thrill... Anyway, we stopped in a place called Eagle Creek Coffee Company and had a perfectly pleasant breakfast including, to my surprise, extremely good biscuits and gravy. So take it from me, Mr. Vegas, seen here standing before the 70s scifi buildings where all new Indianapolitans are grown and the expired ones are reprocessed into Hollyhock Hill fried "chicken":
Indianapolis-- it's my kinda town!
Indiana War Memorial
431 N Meridian St
Indianapolis, IN 46204
Shapiro's Downtown
808 S Meridian St
Indianapolis, IN 46225
317.631.4041
www.shapiros.com
Hollyhock Hill
8110 N. College Ave.
Indianapolis, IN 46240-2554
(317) 251-2294
Eagle Creek Coffee Company
10 S Main St
Zionsville, IN 46077
(317) 733-3771