Dining

But let’s look at the bright side. When Patrick’s reopened in October, it did so with an upgraded kitchen (a far cry from the previous four-burner setup), a tweaked menu, and a new executive chef (Roger Duran, formerly of Barcelona Tapas and Creation Cafe). “It was almost like starting over again with a brand-new restaurant,” Dickerson says. Mussels in a white-wine broth with sausage and tomatoes, butterflied Cornish hen, and grilled salmon with a warm salad of potatoes and Brussels sprouts headline the latest dishes. But the new chef was smart enough to keep the restaurant’s favorite savory pastry, the spinach-and-artichoke torta, and all of its decadent layers. Thankfully, the Brick Street Blond Chili didn’t go anywhere, either.

Though the food still screams “bar fare,” there are a few pleasant surprises. For starters, the cleverly skewered Gunthorp Farms Bacon Picks come with custom sauces, and the boards of pickled vegetables, cheeses, and meats are locally sourced. The Apple Butta’ Backyard BBQ Burger (Sun King–battered onion rings, slaw, bacon, and Fair Oaks Farms cheddar on a pretzel roll) is the best pick among the menu’s bevy of burgers and fries.

Photo by Tony Valainis

Hailing from western Germany, husband-and-wife team Bernd and Ramona Muenzer now play host at their cozy Deutsch-focused restaurant in the heart of Paoli, minutes from the Paoli Peaks ski slopes. Almost everything there has been imported from the homeland—including the bric-a-brac adorning the walls and tables. Warming spoonfuls of rich and fragrant paprika-scented Hungarian goulash and a tall glass of dunkel (pronounced “doonk-el”) beer provide the perfect way to warm up after a day on the hills. Follow up with a Grosse Platte Fur, a family-style platter with a hand-cut schnitzel coated in homemade breadcrumbs, links of Bavarian bratwurst, parsley-specked spaetzle, and sauerkraut. Linger late into the night over a warm cup of gluhwein (hot red wine with cloves, lemon, and cinnamon) and a slice of Ramona’s Dreamcake, layered goodness made with mandarin oranges, vanilla sugar, and sour cream. Guten Appetit!

The stuffed pizzas—especially the one crammed full of sausage and pepperoni, oozing mozzarella from every crack in its double-crusted construction—at red-saucy So Italian (515 E. Main St., Brownsburg, 317-858-4777). The frothy, fruity Ginger Pear Martini at Tini (717 Ma

Hired in September to take over the kitchen at Dunaway’s Palazzo Ossigeno, returning Hoosier chef Christopher Bator has already made some impressive menu tweaks. The former Florida private chef (who counted Tiger Woods and Tim Durham among his clients) plans to supplement Dunaway’s traditional steaks and chops with local produce and in-house charcuterie. We have fallen hard for his scallops in lemon beurre blanc and a refashioned banana cream pie. What else can we expect from this new toque in town?

• 1 lb. ground pork

I glanced up from my butternut-and-acorn squash salad just as a group of business-dressed women in CityWay hard hats filed past Cerulean’s courtyard windows—on what looked like a guided tour of this $155 million mixed-use complex-in-the-making. When complete, the downtown site will house a boutique hotel, townhomes, shops, a park, a YMCA, and this gorgeous fishbowl of a restaurant where lunch arrives in westernized polished-walnut bento boxes. I wondered, as I plucked bites of balsamic-glazed pork loin, green beans spiked with vinaigrette, and spicy chorizo–crumbled potatoes from their individual compartments, if that tour group was as captivated by the soaring modern floorplan as I was by my lunch. It’s easy to get excited about this much new-urban design and sauce-painted dishware. But should we resist the temptation to fawn over all the pretty plates? Does the style have substance? Or have we fallen under the spell of a very impressive dog-and-pony show?

Few things disrupt the normal order of life like a fire. For local diners, the most jarring aspect of the August 2011 blaze that destroyed the kitchen and large swaths of the roof at The Aristocrat Pub & Restaurant was not the $3 million damage assessment, nor the heroic restoration effort that would ensue. It was that their beloved haunt would be shuttered for months. Late-night quaffing expeditions had to be moved. Sunday brunch plans were wrecked. Would the pub ever regain the lovably rustic charm of dark wood and stained glass?

Tender medallions of monkfish wrapped in smoky house-cured lomo and served atop mustard greens and lentils at Peterson’s Restaurant (7690 E. 96th St., Fishers, 317-598-8863).

The elegantly simple, extra-cheesy margherita pizza at the JW Marriott’s

Tickets for Winterfest, Saturday’s beer event at the Indiana State Fairgrounds, sold out quickly, and scalpers with extras were scarce at the event. Along with the snaking lines outside of the Fairground’s Agriculture and Horticulture building and inside at the more popular tents, signs point to this being one of winter’s most popular Indy events. Proceeds benefited Joy’s House.

Martha Hoover is putting the finishing touches on her second location of Napolese, at 30 S. Meridian St. (across the lobby from

The miniature cheeseburger off the kid’s menu at Oh Yumm Bistro (5615 N. Illinois St., 317-251-5656), a juicy little slider, respectfully seasoned and chargrilled, tucked inside a soft pretzel bun.

An ice-cold shot of house-infused banana liqueur delivered by self-appointed house mixologist Jarod at

Whether the restaurant menu is more out of 1913 or 2013 is an issue of some debate. Would our great grandparents really have ordered something called a “Pigwich” or called for their cheese plates, meats, and produce by farmstead producer? Were they really starting off their meals with bacon flights? No matter.
 
Whether the restaurant menu is more out of 1913 or 2013 is an issue of some debate. Would our great grandparents really have ordered something called a “Pigwich” or called for their cheese plates, meats, and produce by farmstead producer? Were they really starting off their meals with bacon flights? No matter. This was a hotel lunch menu to be reckoned with, offering everything from a small plate of free-range deviled eggs to its sole big offering, a “mess” of fried bluegill. We had to request one of those bacon flights from the dinner menu, but our somewhat deliberate, though utterly accommodating waitress made sure we got our strips of bacon served upright from a peg board on wooden skewers. She even brought us some extra barbecue sauce and a slightly sweet buttermilk dressing to go with them. With a loaf of warm soft bread with a crunchy herb crust, this was a stick-to-your ribs starter our forefathers probably wouldn’t have scoffed at—even if the bacon could have been one notch crispier. A darling short-handled copper bowl of “canned” tomato soup offered a rich, authentic tomato flavor, though an actual aluminum soup can of homemade soda crackers on the side seemed a tad flat.
 
Jumping in only partway on the house-made pickle plate trend, 1913 offers a board of some homemade items (crisp but slightly under-pickled wax beans with a hint of tarragon) and some out of the jar—Sechler’s quite serviceable bread and butter pickles. Perhaps the star here were some wonderfully sweet preserved Sweet 100s cherry tomatoes which offered up a much-needed taste of summer. These juicy little flavor bombs showed up on a hearty chop salad with tender local chicken, yet more bacon (this one from Gunthorp Farms) and Fair Oaks Farm cheddar, all tossed with crunchy greens and a nicely restrained buttermilk vinaigrette. This alone could have been a satisfying lunch. But then we wouldn’t have tried the house “root beer” ham shaved thin and served on thick-cut slabs of bread with no shortage of butter. The bread might have sent this hefty sandwich a bit over the edge, but the ham was definitely a treat, along with light and crisp fresh potato chips, which gradually won us over

The galaktoboureko, a warmed custard-filled phyllo square with hints of orange and cinnamon, from Santorini Greek Kitchen (1417 Prospect St., 317-917-1117). Get jiggly with it. Tri-colored fried cheese sticks at Brewstone Beer Company (