No. 1 – The Ball & Biscuit
As every lounge in town rolls out its pre-Prohibition cocktail list—muddling herbs and berries until their wrists go limp—you get the feeling that it’s no shtick here.
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.
There are plenty of other holes-in-the-wall in Indy, and you can’t throw a dart (another Wellington pastime) without hitting a corporate bar marketing itself as a British-themed pub. But the leaded glass and woodwork here make most of those other places seem like a trip to the loo.
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
