Indy’s Great Steakhouses: Fleming’s
What this Florida-based chain location tucked away in a strip development outside The Fashion Mall lacks in quaintness, it makes up for in innovation. Fleming’s Prime Steakhouse & Wine Bar, was among the first of the area’s chophouses to offer modern developments like digital wine lists that make recommendations, shareable small plates, and a playful nightly bar menu with affordable twists on the classics, like filet mignon flatbread, short-rib empanadas, and a prime-rib melt.
Owned by restaurant empire Bloomin’ Brands (the same company behind Outback Steakhouse and Bonefish Grill), Fleming’s takes a laidback approach to steak, one that will not judge you for requesting a side of the house F17 steak sauce for dunking. Purists can get their traditional stunners, like a dry-aged New York strip suffused with all the rich flavors of a well-marbled steak, or a wet-aged bone-in ribeye that you can order “iron-crusted” for a flawless balance of crunch and tenderness.
It’s best to use up your calories on the colossal sides at Fleming’s instead of saving room for the underwhelming dessert selection. There’s no shame in carb-loading, especially when it involves Fleming’s potatoes (dotted with jalapeños) and the garlicky mashed variety, both highly recommended by the affable servers. But if it helps you sleep at night, order the grilled asparagus and sauteed green beans; just don’t get mad when the aroma of cheese-laced spuds wafts over from a nearby table. 8487 Union Chapel Rd., 317-466-0175, flemingssteakhouse.com
Price per ounce of the small filet: $4.99
Largest steak on the menu: 20-ounce bone-in ribeye
Grade of meat: USDA Prime
Aging process: Primarily wet-aged but also dry-aged
Wines by the bottle/glass: 200/100
We love steak, any way you slice it. In Indianapolis, there’s a steakhouse to cater to every occasion and level of sophistication, and after months of dining like wealthy cavemen, we present them to you here, in juicy detail. A la cartes include a primer on the king cuts (for those who don’t know a porterhouse from a portobello), tips on the best cheap chops in town, a cattle call of beefy terms, and a stab at defining that common condition among steak-lovers—the meat sweats. You want a piece of this? Dig in.
