The Ultimate Deviled Eggs

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The Libertine – Indianapolis

The deviled egg is peculiar dish, primarily because it seldom lives up to the intent of its name, which is to be hot-as-hell-spicy. But usually it’s packed with more “flavor” spice than “hot” spice, and thus the “devil” really only comes through in the form of “devilishly good.” And while it saddens me as a heat seeker, I am getting over it with the help of The Libertine.

Their eggs are not only incredible and edible, but they lie somewhere between heavenlish and devily. Made so with their wonderful balance of creamy blended yolk topped with jewels of savoriness. Jewels like caviar of sturgeon, salmon roe and whitefish salad. Each one more delightful than the next. And now that eggs aren’t the cholesterol bomb once feared (according to recent studies), you can feel free to order seconds with reckless abandon.

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Cheddars

5221 Noggle Way Indianapolis, IN 46237 •  (317) 807-0248

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Please don’t think less of me, but not knowing what a Cheddars was, I was talked into going here by consensus of the group I was with, not that they were huge fans or anything, but they seemed optimistic upon entering, so I went with the flow.

Now, for those of you who already know what Cheddars is, I’m sure you can imagine what’s to follow. But, for those not so up on their casual dining chains, Cheddars is basically a wannabe Applebee’s. Which begs the question, who in the hell would want to be Applebee’s?

Let’s start with their “world famous” onion rings (pictured). A “must” according to our server and Yelper’s alike. Well, first, let’s back up and ask the question, does Cheddars even exist outside of the States? And secondly, the only “must” about these is that you MUST avoid them at all costs. They are terrible. No, they are worse than that. They are terrorism in onion ring form. Oily and flavorless. Like the batter is made monthly. They are easily the worst onion rings I’ve ever had, and that’s taking into account my high school cafeteria food. I can only assume people rave about them because of their impressive symmetrical stacking, which I’m guessing must be a big thing in Indiana.

Equally atrocious was the Arnold Palmer, served in a glass the size of a Super Big Gulp. It was basically tap water accented with vague hints of tea and lemon.

The other starter we shared was the spinach and cheese dip, which wasn’t exactly a total failure, meaning that I managed to swallow. Certainly nothing I would ever recommend, however.

But to be fair, because while I’m ferocious, I’m also honest, therefore I will give props where they are due- and the Buffalo chicken wrap is actually pretty good. I suggest getting extra Buffalo sauce on the side. I also suggest you still never go here, but if you are forced to, lost a bet or you’re playing truth or dare, then get the Buffalo wrap and get out.

1 tooth

The Libertine

38 E Washington St. Indianapolis, IN 46204(317) 631-3333libertineindy.com
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Ya gotta love low expectations. They never cease to amaze. Sure, call my skepticism snobbery, I’ll admit it. But c’mon, it’s Indianapolis. It’s not exactly runneth over with culinary cred. However, cred is definitely something Libertine doeth haveth.

From the moment you set foot in the bar-ish restaurant, you know you’re not in Kansas anymore. Or Indianapolis. Same diff. A bit on the narrow side, but made up for in spades with healthy does of cool. Feels like a mod version of something out of Sweeney Todd, granted that could’ve been partly due to our server’s attire.

Speaking of service, that was one of my major nits. First, she missed placing not one, but two different orders and then, to make matters worse, she brought a dish that we didn’t even ask for. Which would’ve been fine if it were awesome, but sadly it failed on my other major nit- too many over-cooked dishes. Three to be precise: the burger (which we didn’t order), the brisket and the parpadelle. The flavors in all, however, where very nice, they just need to learn when to take it off the heat.

Wait a second. This review isn’t going as intended. I actually loved this place. So, as Chris Martin would say, go back to the start, with the cocktail… The Rose Anonymous. Well, Rose is about to get famous, because it deserves nothing but accolades and exclamation points. Made with 4 Roses Bourbon, rosemary, lemon and ginger beer. It’s drinks like these that make cabs a necessity.

Then, right on the heels of my cocktail came the trio of bacon- pork, jowl and lamb. Accompanied with harissa, sweet apple and cherry mustard. Definitive proof that three is a magic number.

Keeping pace, were the heavenly deviled eggs. Groan away, but just make sure you get them, because they are ultimate worthy. Topped with whitefish and two types of caviar. Which equals three types of awesome.

And like the Beatles, the hits just keep coming. The lamb ribs were so moist a saucy it was ridic! If my tongue could marry these ribs I would be happy attend that wedding.

Even the Scotch egg was mighty fine. Done with a slightly thicker crust than usual, but it held up nonetheless. Crispy on the outside, gooey and yolky on the innards. And yummy-ass-yummy all over.

On the mortal side, the bok choy was also very good. Refreshing amidst the see of decadence on the table, with it’s bright hit of vinegar.

The mussels were also good, but compared to the waves of bliss before them, it was hard to get out of my chair for yet another standing ovation.

And naturally there were a few misses as well. The toast with chorizo is a big blah. And both desserts (there were only two options) were very unsatisfying. A beer, not of the root variety, float and a shortcake with blueberry compote. Both were so lacking that it both literally and figuratively left a bad taste in my mouth after such an awesome meal. A crime almost punishable by three knives- but considering how many hits there were, I’m squeaking out four… but barely.

4 teeth

Lincoln Square Pancake House

8150 Oaklandon Rd. Indianapolis, IN 46236317-823-5373 • eatatlincolnsquare.com
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With four and a half stars on Yelp and a line out the door you’d think this place was the shit. Well, it’s definitely shit alright. The absolute epitome of what you might expect in the sticks of Indianapolis.

First, let’s start with the Sistine Chapel meets Magritte ceiling art. Yes, fluffy white clouds against a blue sky arch upward into the acoustic tile above, almost like skylights, but so poorly done you almost feel sorry for the paint brush that had to create them.

Feeling sorry was the theme in general here. For the patrons around me. For my co-workers. For myself and my stomach. In fact, the only person I didn’t feel bad for was our server, she was quick and full of spunk- it’s amazing the impression a server can leave when they like their job.

Unfortunately, the impression wasn’t enough to salvage the Cinnamon French tragedy on my plate. Too dry, not soaked through and the fruit on top was GMO city. Topped with a syrup that saw more corn fields than maple trees in its former life. Which brings me back to the 4.5 stars… Sure. Out of 100 maybe.

1 tooth

 

 

Pizzology

608 Massachusetts Ave. Indianapolis, IN 46204(317) 685-2550 • pizzologyindy.com

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Having just been to Libertine and lovin’ it, we decided to double down on the sibling – sadly, like something out of the movie Twins, Pizzology is the Danny Devito to Libertine’s Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Not aesthetically speaking, however, the décor was spot on with an industrial, clean vibe that didn’t try too hard to be cool. It just was.

And service was actually far superior to Libertine, surprisingly enough, although you’ll have to read my Libertine review to understand why.

But as for the food, this is where Pizzology needs to spend a little more time in the lab, because there was really only one dish that managed to impress me, the roasted kale salad. Topped with fried chickpeas, grilled zucchini and goat cheese. Simple you say? Simply awesome!

Sadly, things were all downhill from here. The grilled octopus starter, while also good, was extremely garlicky, so if you think this review stinks, it’s probably that.

The other starter we shared was the warm spinach salad, which proved to be relatively pedestrian compared to others I’ve had. Same bacon. Same poached egg. Bacon was a touch over-cooked and salad under-yummy.

And then came the pies of which we did four. The best for me was the tallegio, fig and prosciutto. Now you know, I get weak in the knees at the mere mention of tallegio, so if you’re not a fan, buyer beware. I do recommend it with a healthy dose of red pepper flakes though, so as to play off of the sweetness of the figs, which in turn play off of the saltiness of the prosciutto. It’s a very playful pie.

Next up for me would be the Romano, topped with cremini mushrooms. It was nothing revolutionary, but sometimes you need a fastball down the middle.

Then there’s the brussell sprout pie, which sounds SO much more interesting than it actually tastes. Not sure what got lost in translation, but flavor was among them.

And bringing up the rear was the fennel sausage pie, assumingly influenced by Batali’s pizza joint, Mozza in LA. The difference is that Mozza makes it 10 times better. One of the best pies, if not THE best pie in the joint. Here, not so much.

2 teeth