Every so often when we’re not overindulging in weekend events or buried in adult chores, my wife Anne and I like to spend a Saturday morning driving to some other part of Indianapolis or central Indiana and finding breakfast at someplace that serves dishes more varied than scrambled eggs or McMuffins. We do this often enough that I could mine them for smaller MCC entries, but the thought never occurs to me. That changes right now, at least for tonight.
Last Saturday we drove to Zionsville, a small town northwest of Indy that’s one of those rare idyllic bastions of carefully cultivated little shops, craftspeople, artisans, independent restaurants, and beauteous walking paths surrounded by foliage and well-kept, narrow streets. It’s a half-hour from our house, but for some reason we’re not there all the time. We’re easily distracted and too willingly busied, I think.
Our destination was a place called Auberge, specializing in “traditional and contemporary French food” on their dinner menu. Their brunch menu varies its cuisine a bit more, but offered quite a few attractive items.
The place was mostly deserted, probably because we were there hours before most Zionsville shops would open. We relaxed, we chatted, we enjoyed the scenery, and we spent several minutes staring at our food when it arrived with quickness. The friendly staff made the experience worthwhile, too.
We simply must do Zionsville again, maybe when more of their doors are open and the streets are a bit more bustling. Or maybe not, because honestly it was nice having most of the block to ourselves for a whole morning.