The Friendly Tavern

The Friendly Tavern
290 S. Main
Zionsville, In.



Tasked with finding a new place to dine last evening, I made a quick check of The Urban Spoon.  Some dude recommend The Friendly Tavern.  He gave a rave review of the fried foods there and as you may already know I am no stranger to fried food.

The Friendly Tavern is on the main drag in Zionsville.  Need directions to Zionsville?  Start out on Michigan in downtown Indy right in front of Crispus Attucks High School.  Drive north 100 blocks and hang a left at the light.  Be certain to take a good dose of Dramamine before leaving as your path will take you through a portion of Carmel.  Speed past the Lion's Club Little League Complex and turn right.

Zionsville is as close to Pleasantville as anything you will see in the Midwest.  Its downtown is simply too charming... it almost looks staged.  Independent retail outlets who don't find it necessary to call themselves "shoppes" and fine restaurants with side alley courtyard dining.  The retail blocks blend into the residential areas so seamlessly that you don't even notice the transition.

We arrive at The Friendly and were seated immediately.  "Paper placemat menus" gasped Tammy.  I shared her skepticism when I looked up and saw the walls adorned with Coors Light mirrors.  I was partially put at ease when our server dropped a Sun King WeeMac can in front of me.

Our fellow patrons were... well... they were old.  The place looked like the Jim Dandy on the day social security checks hit the mail.  Only these geezers weren't slugging down decaf and lamenting yesterday's bowel movements.  They were drinking white wine and gushing about the trouble with their investment advisors, the very best place to base camp K2, and the difficulty in deciding between marble and granite vanity tops. My small ears flared as I strained to learn more of Dario Franchitti's love life.

This was all so new and strange to me, not to mention the food.  We ordered the chicken wing appetizer as recommended by that spoon dude with hot buffalo sauce and ranch on the side.  The wings come naked and best of all hot! out of the broaster.  $11.99 for a dinner plate stacked high.  They were probably the meatiest and best tasting wings I've ever eaten.  The Tammy and I shared them and were still too full for a burger or any of their other offerings (except an apple dumpling with cinnamon ice cream and chocolate French silk pie).  The dessert was ok.

I’m awarding The Friendly Tavern 3 Tee Shirts for great wings, placemat menus and the Pleasantville location.

Have I ever told you about my genius idea for selling no-kill chicken wings to organic restaurants?  I would suggest pairing the wings with a stack of ampu-taters and a72 oz. soda to make it a basket.

Black Acre Brewing Company

The Black Acre Brewing Company
5632 East Washington
Indianapolis, in.
317.207.6266

People... you know how I love Irvington and you know how I love microcrafted beer.  Guess what? Irvington has its own brand new brewery bar.  The Black Acre has been open for a couple of months but I just never had the opportunity to make it in there.  There was paper covering the windows for several months while it was under construction and it looked deserted for a while.  I assumed it was some beer hound's dream that died before it got off the ground. Not so.

The Tammy and I were blowing some four dollar bills on gas this past Saturday afternoon, trying to think of some place that we hadn't been to for a light dinner.  We found ourselves passing through Irvington and decided to stop by and see if the joint was open. We entered through the back door and shazzam!  This place is cool!  Charcoal stained concrete floors, re-purposed wood plank ceilings and pumpkin patch painted walls.

Tammy loved the ladies room. I loved the standing bar. Tammy loved the clientele.  I loved the beer selection. We both loved the fact that there were zero TV's in the place.  What a refreshing change of pace from the sports/Foxnews/CMT belching joints that try to overload your senses so you don't notice the stale beer and deep fryer that was left on all night.

This is the view from a bar stool.  I like a place that changes up what they have on tap often enough that they announce their line-up in chalk.  The Tammy actually ordered a red ale.  I had a brown. The empty taps are reserved for when they bring their own brews on line.  It was our good fortune that our visit coincided with the introduction of their first house brewed beers... Green Tea Pale Ale and Robust Porter.  When our server, Mike, asked us what we thought of them I wanted to be able to break out into a steady stream of terms like IBU, balling degrees and attentuation.  All I could really say was "damn fine." And they were.

Not to mention the food, but I had a 2 lb.grilled cheese and brewery fries.  There was a sauce with the fries that was most likely a garlic paste in mayo.  Tammy liked it well enough to dip her sandwich in it.  They also offer a panini and cheese plate.  Go for the beer.  The food is just a bonus.  I'm awarding the BAB four out of five tee shirts.  Did I ever mention that this was The Tammy's favorite hymn when she was little?

The Donner Party Diner

The Donner Party Diner





In the mood for something a little different?  The Donner Party Diner is a private supper club just outside of Greenfield, Indiana.  Serving award winning cocktails, cheese nibbles, outrageous entrees and fine box wines, this off the beaten path restaurant has become one of my favorite dinner options.

The Tammy and I decided on the DPD this past Saturday because it was close enough for us to ride our bikes to (and more importantly from) in the event that our box of gewürztraminer became too cumbersome. The proprietors encourage you to bring your own box and of course there is never a corkage charge.

The hostess on duty that evening greeted us with an adorable sick puppy in her arms that helped conjure up strong images of that fateful 1856 wagon train.  It really helped set the tone for a fabulous evening.  The menu (as usual) was a touch on the short side but Phil and Stephanie Donner seem to instinctively know just how to please.  Phil majored in Gastronomy at Purdue University with a concentration in hops and yeast while Stephanie studied turntablism and invented languages at the Herron School of Art and Design. Not surprisingly, both of the Donners graduated with honors.

Our meal began with a comfortable selection of cheeses: white cheese, white cheese with holes, and white cheese with specks of hot stuff.  There was also a box of funny tasting crackers. We ate them anyway.

On to the entree?  Wasatch Mountain Passover Ham...an enormous bone in ham that was desalted for 3 days, resurrected and then marinated in Dr Pepper (I swear).  It was unspeakably good. The ham was paired with the now famous Donner Party Scalloped Potatoes.  Phil said we didn't have to eat these but we did. Indeed.

Did you all save room for dessert?  Glad I did.  I stood by in amazement as Phil fired up his torch and put the finishing touch on his celebrated Great Salt Lake Desert Crème Brûlée.  Smooth and creamy, burnt to a perfect crust and topped with chopped pistachios and fresh blackberries. I swooned.

Anyways, I'm gonna give The Donner Party Diner a solid five out of five tee shirt rating.  This place has it all. Great service, bottomless boxes of wine, great atmosphere, fresh and creative eats and a fenced in back yard.



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Revolucion
1132 East prospect
Indianapolis, In  46203






Ahhhh.   A cantina.  Nestled in the heart of Fountain Square is one of Indy's little treasures.  Unique. Independent. Bold.  Revolucion is all of this and much more.  Fountain Square is another one of those little suburbs of Indianapolis that has for the most part withstood the onslaught of drugs store chains, fast food joints, and gas pumped convenience stores.  It's home to one of my favorite local events, Masterpiece in a Day. 


I've grown accustomed to the fresh out of the rail container plasticized hand carved primary color parrots and bullfighters decor that you find in every strip mall Mexican restaurant.  One step inside Revolucion brought a smile to my face and a whistle to my lips.  I felt like Gomer Pyle on his first trip into Mt. Pilot.  Welcoming stained concrete floors with exposed wood ceiling joists and rafters give the dining room a open and relaxed atmosphere.  What really grabs you, though, are the large Day of the Dead figures painted on all of the walls. 


We were directed to order our food at the bar and have a seat anywhere.  We were there early and seats were plentiful.  A server told us to make ourselves comfortable and that since they were slow she would come by and take our orders. Once seated, I was delighted to look up from my table and see Mexican wrestler's masks on mannequin heads dotted around the place. I just pressed their "like" button again on their FB page.


The menu is short.  I mean short.  Tacos and burgers.  Weird, huh?  They have an average drink menu and way above average drinks. Killer margaritas. I had one on the rocks with the house tequila.  Nice buzz. They also have a beer labeled Revolucion for a buck.  Our server said she was sworn to secrecy and couldn't reveal the identity of the brewer.  I suspect it was whatever stale keg they drained into a pitcher when they opened that day.  Don't order it.


The tacos on the other hand....order them.  Lots of them.  I had the shrimp taco. . Before I ordered I asked the server if the shrimp there were dodgy.  I could tell by the look on her face that she knew what I was talking about.  Her face didn't read, "I can't believe that you would ask me that."  It read, "just you wait and see."  And I did.  Best damn Mexican I've ever put in my mouth.


I don't know nuthin' about Mexican food. I was told that the food at Revolution is west coast style. It's call that because in L.A. the Hispanic community butts up to the Korean district and the cultures are influencing each other.  Tacos with Asian seasoning.  Go figure.


This place is FUN.  The bar and dining room filled up by the time we left with Fountain Square locals.  Young hipsters with an artsy edge.  Like me only young, hip, artsy and edgy.

I gotta give this joint 5 out of 5 tee shirts for being so much more that I expected.  Great food, cool atmosphere, reasonably priced, warm and friendly service and Mexican wrestler masks.

Serving Tips

32 ounce mugs X 8 = 256 ounces.
Mugs are 65% full  = 166.4 ounces.
10.4 pounds not to mention the mugs.

She's still smiling.  Even with a wrist brace.

Give the lady a nice tip. I'm sure that's what the guy in the top right corner of this picture has in mind.


Generally speaking, I'm not a very demanding person, but if I were to become one, I would demand great service at all restaurants.  I think this runs in my family.  A few years ago I went to The Oceanaire Seafood Room in Indianapolis with my brother and his wife. Once seated, we were completely ignored by the server who had been assigned to our table.  After a half hour or so of this my brother grabbed the guy by the collar and offered to introduce him to the dumpster.  Well, it didn't happen exactly like that but he did get the message across that the server would be justly compensated for his efforts. Then there was the time that The Tammy and I went out to dinner at a pizza joint in Denver with my son and his bride.  The server was a first class a-hole.  After an uncomfortable and heated exchange between my son and the server we were able to secure a different server without anyone being handcuffed.

Anyway, some simple do's and don'ts that should guide every server...

Don't show any "mods" that make me want to vomit.  If you have a king cobra tattoo make certain that it doesn't crawl out of your shirt collar. Leave your ear gauges at home in the jewelry box your mom gave you on your 10th birthday before she became so disappointed in you. NOTE:  I just googled "extreme body mods" and discovered that you can now have your eyeballs tattooed.  Yeah.  Don't do that either if you plan to make a living as a server.

Never say to me, "you still workin' on that?"  Dining is my pleasure, not my vocation.  If you have been paying attention to me you will probably know when I have finished.  If not, try something like, "are you still enjoying your dinner" or "let me know if you would like for me to box the rest of those rib tips."  Never use the words "doggie bag" or make reference to any mammal that is not a part of my entree.

Be attentive but please don't smother me.  There's a breakfast joint in Greenfield that requires every server to stop at every table every time they pass by and offer to re-fill your coffee.  I always say yes to see if they can squeeze another eyedropper full in the cup without it spilling over. Makes me feel like I'm the target of a aproned strafing mission.

Another catch phrase to avoid, "did y'all save room for dessert?"  That implies that I may have already busted my gut on taters and gravy and should I open wide for their inspection they might be able to see for themselves. Instead, invite me to indulge by saying, "would you care to see our dessert tray (or menu) ... or possibly something to take home and enjoy later?"

No smoking during working hours unless you wear a Tyvek suit and do it in the trunk of your car.  Is there anything less appetizing than driving around the back parking lot of a restaurant and seeing a gaggle of servers huddled around the dumpster corral with their smokes hanging from their lips?  Body odor and smokey breath are tip killers.

Sneezing, hiccups and coughing. Need I say more?  Of course.  I was in a restaurant in Anderson this week for lunch.  There was an employee there who was coughing so often and so violently that I felt like I was having my soup and grilled cheese in a TB ward.  I would not have been surprised if she had pulled a hanky from her apron pocket and dabbed away a spot of blood from the corner of her mouth.  Yuk.
Stay home.

Smile most of the time but not all of the time.  You can be pleasant without looking fake.  Consider this: “You can only hold a smile for so long, after that it's just teeth.”
― Chuck Palahniuk

Next week!!!!!!!  A trip to Denver where we will enjoy some fine dining, a private tour of the Infinite Monkey Theorem Winey, and the best damn breakfast in the Rockies at Snooze.

p.s.  Don't ever call me "hun."

The Legend Classic Irvington Cafe
5614 East Washington
Indianapolis, In







The very best thing about The Legend Classic Irvington Cafe is... Irvington.  This small suburb just east of Indianapolis is easily my favorite of all the burbs that maypole Indy.  It has the best architecture, the best festivals and a lot of really spooky stuff. Herman Webster Mudgett a.k.a. Dr. Henry Howard Holmes rented a house there for some time while he was wanted by the police for up to 200 murders at the hotel he built for the 1893 Chicago World's Fair.  Abe Lincoln's funeral train passed directly through Irvington and it is said that every year on the anniversary of that fateful day, the air grows stale and well.... you get the idea.  Then there's the Klan guy who bit a woman to death.

     If you desire to render Irvington down to its very best and most basic elements, stop in at The Legend.  The Legend is everything that Applebees isn't.  Small. Independent. Stylish. It’s a place of quiet conversations about things of substance. Like literature, the absolute best location to base camp on Everest and amateur dentistry. They have real cloth table linens for crying out loud! They won't set a bus tub on your table or use a sweeper under your feet or go out back for breaks and then come in and breathe their hot smoky breath down your neck. I just gave myself carmel.

     I have been visiting The Legend for several years and have yet to have a bad experience.  One of the reasons for this is their servers.  Even though the place has gone through a couple of expansions, they have managed to retain the original servers and have actually augmented their staff with clones. Smiling blonde women who undoubtedly share genetic material.

      The Tammy and I stopped in there for dinner with another couple last Saturday evening.  One of the blondes who had slipped  from her pod more recently waited on us as if she had been bred for that very purpose.  She was graceful, polite and efficient.  One of our dining companions noticed a tattoo on her arm. I also had noticed it but intentionally didn't read it because those things often give me the heebie geebies. The tat read "So It Goes."  The clone informed us that the ink is a tribute to her favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut.  We spoke briefly about Slaughterhouse Five from which the phrase was lifted.  She even made reference to some lesser known Vonnegut essays and short stories. Her conversation was a far cry from the usual "you guys want more biscuits" that you get at many restaurants.

     The dinner was just right... not to mention the food.  We shared a shrimp cocktail appetizer. The sauce rivaled St. Elmo's in intensity and flavor. We saved what remained to embellish out entree.  Meet loaf. It was the perfect complement to ummmmm... meat loaf.  Moist, tender and now flavorful.  Did I mention that they also have a small bar serving Sun King WeeMac on tap?

     On a scale of one to five tee shirts, The Legend earns 4 shirts for style, comfort, service and location.

The Steer Inn

The Steer Inn
5130 East 10th
Indianapolis



It's a late Saturday morning in mid-January and I have a couple of hours to kill before the NFL playoffs start. Time to load up a couple of empty growlers, grab a bite to eat then make a quick stop at the Sun King Brewing Company. Headed east on I-70 toward Indy The Tammy and I decided to wheel into The Steer Inn. The Steer Inn is a hold-over from the 50's that has managed to escape developers who would turn it into a drive through Discount Tobacco or scrape it off the face of the earth and replace it with a shining new CVS in 45 days.
Following instructions from the hostess, we helped ourselves to a corner window booth. Hanging directly overhead was a Scecina High School letterman's jacket with thick dust bunny cuffs. I was thankful that the door didn't open wide enough for a strong breeze to dislodge the bunnies. The place was covered with 50's memorabilia. Not the cheesy injection molded reproduction junk but the real stuff. The Steer's kitchen kitsch is dialed in just low enough not to reach a lethal level.

Our server greeted us with a warm smile and the hiccups. The flippin hiccups. I'm a firm believer that hiccups are a character flaw. If you get a dose of the hiccups in a public setting you should excuse yourself to the restroom and use whatever method your mother taught you to rid yourself of them. Keep your shame private. The Tammy agreed and said the manager should have sent her home for the day.

Seated at a not so far away table was a young family. Dad, mom, big brother, toddler brother. The Tammy got a stricken look on her face. I suspected a mild stroke for a moment but it turned out that she had been repulsed by toddler brother's lip smakin' open mouthed slobberfication. I had to turn to see it for myself. Mistake. The high chaired kid was a dead ringer for Meat Loaf. Marvin Lee Aday (Meat Loaf) with mashed potatoes oozing from the corners of his mouth.

We enjoyed the dust bunnies and the Meat Loaf... not to mention the food. The french dip was one the best I've had. Thin sliced beef with swiss on a hoagie bun, onion rings and a Diet Coke that was out of this world! This was our fourth trip to The Steer. If you find yourself on the east side at meal time we highly recommend you stop in for a breaded tenderloin and a possible faux celebrity sighting.

Almost every restaurant you go to these days sells tee shirts and other merchandise. That's where my rating system comes from. 1-5 tee shirts.

The Steer Inn rates 3 tee shirts for price, curb appeal and DFFF (damn fine fried food).