Micah Frank

Micah Frank discusses the rigors of a chef’s life at mid-career and what can his fans expect now that he’s back in town.

King Dough creators Adam and Alicia Sweet will announce a new location for their comfort-food eatery, Natural State Provisions.

Chef Micah Frank will take over the kitchen at The Inferno Room.

Esteban Rosas takes the reins at Black Market.

“It’s a good nervous. I’m really confident in my food, and I’ve always loved Black Market. The ambiance, the brick. It’s a romantic space.”

Two chicks and a hammer walk into a bar.

These top local toques may be cooking up some of Indy’s most creative plates, but they couldn’t resist adding a dolled-up burger choice to their innovative menus.

No. 10 – Black Market is far more than a special-occasions spot. A chalkboard of daily creations means you can refuel after browsing nearby shops with an impromptu plate of rabbit and dumplings or kraut pierogi.

City chefs Micah Frank (Black Market), Will Osgood (Pipers Restaurant), and Ron Harris (Locally Grown Gardens) assemble elegant picnic dishes stylishly presented in mason jars.

Daily chalkboard specials, such as lamb-neck pappardelle, show chef Micah Frank’s drive to innovate, but we will never tire of his fried perch, his tangy-sweet duck buns, or his apple-brined pork chop.

The homey sides get special attention, too: luscious creamy grits, lightly sauteed fresh greens, and smoky barbecued black beans cooked until al dente.

We asked some of Indy’s top chefs, bartenders, and restaurateurs to look into their crystal balls and predict some trends for 2014 that are either on their way or that they dream of seeing in the Circle City.

Patachou Inc.’s Martha Hoover on the chili-cheese fries and cheeseburgers at Steak n’ Shake: “After every gala and fundraiser my husband and I attend. You can be guaranteed bad food even at the best cause’s fundraiser.”

The homemade pickles on the plate in front of us weren’t exactly the ones our grandmothers made us as kids. There were cucumbers, yes, though mostly to support the lightly brined stars: hunks of crunchy daikon radish with a subtle bite of kimchi; a beet-pickled egg blushing pink. A single slender ramp—a wild leek foraged in spring—snaked around to a glistening dollop of peanut spread. Was this the new wave of pub grub, or just some quirky concoction dreamed up by a pregnant chef? And just how did the folks at Black Market, the much–buzzed-about, long-awaited nouvelle comfort-food spot tucked at the end of the Mass Ave restaurant district, expect us to approach it? “People eat it all kinds of ways,” said co-owner Ed Rudisell, smiling from behind the bar where we sat sipping glasses of wine. “We don’t tell customers how to do it.”