Bluebeard, Indianapolis, Indiana

Mea Culpa esteemed LTH, I've been away opening stores for the company in as faraway places as New Hampshire and Northwest Arkansas; soon, I'll be in Cincinnati, then Miami. I've neglected you, dear friend since 2002.

It was the eve of the Partner's 40th birthday, I thought ethnic, perhaps one of the divers unexplored enclaves offering undiscovered treats sewn throughout the fabric of our thriving metropolis. Himself said hell naw and opted for another in an undeniable onslaught of Indy gastro-nouveau-literary-cum-culinary brew-hives of questionable tho' admirable attempted authenticity. Indianapolis isn't ready, yet, for Chicago's this n that resto's: hamhocks and garters, tentacles and scissors, lava and malted milk balls, hammer and cut gloves.

Bluebeard's a go; landlocked in Fountain Square in a warzone of pylons, new, clean, fresh-smelling cement, and ribbon barricades. An old printing factory next to a bakery, next to a happening torta joint.

In the main dining room with it's typewriters and half-ton of woodpulp festooning the shelves I expect more Vonnegut than Perrault. Of course, I didn't open all the doors extant.

Apps

house bread, whipped lardo, anchovy butter, roasted garlic oil: I likes me some lardo

radishes, butter, sea salt: halved radishes half-lapped like truffles in pristine, white, goat?, butter

pork rinds, pico de gallo, gremolata: anyone arguing with pork rinds deserves what they get

Charcuterie

duck rillette
saucisson rouge
sopressata

adequate

Cheese

bloomy
brick street tomme
garroxta

adequate

Mains

grilled octopus, bagna cauda, tomato and olive oil confit

paging major fuck up: rewind: we had a similar dish at Cafe Spiaggia 6 or 7 years ago, it remains one of the best octopus dishes I've ever had

paging the kitchen, your grilled octopus was tuff nubbins of grizzled tentacular carbon

grilled filet of striped bass, merguez sausage, summer vegetables, harissa broth

hello, though the interior of the fish flaked beautifully it withered within a carbon sarcophagus, a chitinous, charcoal shell

I sopped up the broth with bread

our friends, neighbors with whom we broke bread ordered the

pappardelle with butcher shop bolognese, parmesan, herb oil

oh my fucking god, one of the best, perfectly-proportioned bologneses I've ever indulged in: lithe, toothsome pasta, thinly-veiled in a beatific sauce

what could have, should have(after our experiences of the ill-considered fish dishes) been another misstep in a cavalcade was, instead, a triumph

damn, wish I'd ordered that

---

next night we cooked at home, I reconsidered the striped bass prep, chucked the fish substituted reputably ground beef hand mixed with local merguez, made burgers on the grill with iceberg, heirloom tomatoes, brioche, homemade sweet pickle/chile mayo

salad:

Athena melon marinated in Chaokah coconut milk and sambal oelek, grilled then chunked
halved heirloom black cherry tomatoes
duck prosciutto
garden Thai basil
harissa oil

If one presupposes Vonnegut's interpretation of the folk tale over Perrault's excavation, one is, perhaps, looking at a relevancy never always present in work; substance over surface is constant comment, the meat locker is always full.

I'm pretty sure they're using pasta from Nicole-Taylor's Pasta and Market
http://www.nicoletaylorspasta.com/#!about-us
(once featured at the sorely-missed Tavola Di Tosa).
Really good stuff.

We ate at Bluebeard a few weeks ago and really liked it, thought it was one of the better meals we've had in Indy in a while. BUT, kind of like the tallest midget contest. For someone who gets back to Chicago once a month, it's hard to get overly excited about a place with this kind of menu.

Wish I knew how to transplant it, but Louisville is maybe half the size of Indy and it's a much more interesting and innovative restaurant city.

Had dinner at Bluebeard tonight and I would put it above "tallest midget" status. The "mezcal mule" cocktail was one of the finest simple mixed beverages I've had in a long time, and the melon salad was an unbelievable combo of flavors. Tonight's elote with a bit of a spanish/greek influence was nice, and the halibut was cooked absolutely perfectly with that sort of char-ish crust on the outside and flaky on the inside. The cheese board we finished with had a nice raspberry mostarda and overall everything was fresh, well done, and tasty. The vibe of the restaurant - from reclaimed wood tables to using volumes of Shakespeare to present the check - was definitely not Indianapolis to me. Thank you so much to those who have posted about it, otherwise I would have relegated myself to chain food or steakhouse.