restaurants

The restaurant, now known simply as Miracle, welcomed a new menu full of modern takes on traditional Asian recipes when it moved to Carmel.

The pizzas lean more in the direction of adventurous than gourmet, with oddball ingredients playing together nicely.

These restaurants do the cooking for you.

The bar hummed with Cream Ale–sipping hipsters, those coal-mine canaries of emerging commercial pockets.

Enterprising restaurateurs have revitalized Lafayette Square’s once-closed storefronts, making it our most international culinary destination.

Dawson’s on Main has only been open for a few years, but it feels like an old town favorite.

From The Libertine to Recess and Oakleys to Bluebeard, Korean to Latin and sushi to steak, our critics chose the cream of Indy’s dining crop,. Who’s at the head of the table? Read on to find out.

At one end of Cerulean, an enclosed birchwood hut called “The Nest” makes for a cozy hideaway.

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.  

If you have spent any time at all with an East Coast expat, you’ve probably been apprised of the embarrassing state of pizza in Indianapolis—our dearth of pizzaioli dusted in doppio zero flour, dough spiked with mineral-rich water, and slices that fold neatly down the middle. But when a place like downtown’s Coal Pizza Company comes along, cooking its pies in a 900-degree oven in the big-shouldered tradition of America’s first pizzerias, redemption is served by the slice.

The egg came first. And, oh mon dieu, what an egg this was.

Tini’s Raintini is made of Absolut acai berry vodka, violet liqueur, limoncello, lime juice, and muddled blueberries, paired with head-bopping Beyonce vids.

The approachable yet amplified bar played host to droves of Super Bowl visitors, including dozens of A-listers.

For three nights, their every public move lit up the Twittersphere, with sightings at all of the well-trodden downtown haunts and as far north as Geist, where Madonna was spotted jogging.

The first thing you notice at Divvy, after you have strolled by packed communal tables in the bar and passed under raw-wood lampshades curved like Mobius strips, are the menus. Long, horizontal, and leather-bound like an old-timey razor strop, they contain sections upon subsections with suggestive monikers such as “Motion in the Ocean” and “Grazers Galore,” spanning more than 20 pages. You could dine here five nights a week, as some have, and never conquer the dozens of “Tidbits,” “Liquid Goods,” and “Mini Morsels” offered by this new foodie oasis in the shadow of Carmel’s Palladium. “The fun part was coming up with the names of the dishes,” says owner Kevin “Woody” Rider, the restaurateur who also brought Woody’s Library Restaurant to northside diners and helped open Bonge’s Tavern in Perkinsville.