beer

It’s a gay bar if you need to categorize, but patrons don’t care whose tree you’re barking up if you came to sing.

Opened in 1908, this Cottage Home bar caters to a loyal following of urban hipsters and neighborhood transplants who flock to it for cheap PBR and the divey digs.

An amber-hued jewelbox of a nightclub in Fountain Square, it’s more deliciously racy than raunchy, celebrating the time-honored tradition of burlesque.

Its lineup of punk, metal, and indie music draws rock fans, sure, but also neighborhood-bar types who come for the thoroughly lived-in vibe.

Don’t be surprised to hear a ribald pickup line like “Muddle my blueberries,” but don’t expect the bartender to blush, either.

On a balmy friday night, as the sun sets over the Fashion Mall, a crush of well-heeled 40-somethings crowds the patio of Brewstone Beer Company. Bartenders shake up sticky concoctions with names like Mango Tango and a grove of fruit-flavored mojitos while a guy with a guitar and a fedora provides the poppy Dave Matthews–esque entertainment. This handsome spread looks like what you would get if Tommy Bahama threw a party for Crate & Barrel. “Don’t you love this place?” the singer says into the mic. “This is my favorite new spot.” People raise their cocktail glasses and cheer in a scene that gives true meaning to the term TGIF.  

Here’s your guide to the best places to carry out a mixed six-pack or an entire case.

Given the stranglehold sports fans have on this town, as well as a certain big game Indy expects to host next winter, it’s surprising that the two-story brick storefront near the industrial corner of South and Minnesota streets remained untapped as long as it did. Little more than 100 feet from Lucas Oil Stadium, Tavern on South is a spiffy surprise—a sportingly handsome spot where your game-day eats might be drizzled with a shagbark hickory–soy syrup or arrive with a side of pistachio couscous.

“As all of us change, this place stays the same. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to get in here. And one of the first times I bartended, my grandfather was sitting at the end of the bar watching everything I did. Which was intimidating. I just wish he could see me back there now.”

A decade ago, if you had said you were opening a restaurant in Indiana with comforting farmstead dishes paired to a full 16 taps of local beers, you probably would have roused a few chuckles. A full-bodied lager to go with that root-vegetable salad? Maybe a pale ale for the trout with Brussels sprouts? Is it Black Swan Brewpub’s location just off I-70 west of the city or its stark, neo–machine shed decor that makes the proposition still a bit surprising? Whatever the case, this gastropub arrives just as the state’s ascendant beer scene is becoming a bona fide movement. Who wouldn’t want to pull off on the long haul for a plate of sweet-potato gnocchi with braised duck or a Hoosier bison burger with truffled frites?