Category Archives: Indiana

Indianapolis Food Trucks Save Day, Change World for Better (Part 2 of 3)

May 16, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Continuing the recount of my encounters with the Indianapolis food truck phenomenon. Although the five trucks I covered in part 1 were extraordinarily good, the following trucks merely ranged from extremely good to very, very good.

The Spice Box — At last, a convenient source of Indian food! The little Indian place we once had near work shut down years ago. No other member of my household will join me at any local establishments such as India Palace or the Shalimar. The Spice Box and their Chicken Tikka Masala cater to a very underserved niche in my palate. Oddly, they can often be seen teaming up with the Mac Genie mac-‘n’-cheese truck for an interesting either/or face-off. Taken together, they’re symbolic of the duality of man.

Taco Lassi — More Indian food, but served Mexican-style with “local ingredients and natural meats.” This sounds wrong, but works well. The Chicken Tandoori won for me last time, but I still need to try the fabled Mango Lassi at some point.

Seoul Grill — Korean tacos! Or, if you need a break from food-truck tacos and don’t insist on meat, try their kimchi quesadillas. I do insist on meat, but don’t let my rules inhibit you.

Gypsy Cafe — Their massive Cuban po-boy is the largest food-truck sandwich I’ve had to date, not to mention one of the most competitively priced. As with Korean and Indian, this is another food group shamefully lacking in my suburb. Some online reviews complain that their use of mayo calls their authenticity into question. I forgive them.

The NY Slice — Pizza truck! Everybody loves pizza! They’re at a disadvantage because they have to compete with a decent brick-‘n’-mortar Enzo Pizza down the block, but the NY Slice has its own charm. I appreciated that they offered options beyond the pepperoni-sausage-cheese Axis of Ho-Hum. Fans of thin pizza might appreciate that their crust isn’t as doughy. Also in the NY Slice’s favor: they’re not a corporate franchise.

Chef Dan’s Southern Comfort — The Catfish Po’boy may not have been as spicy as the other dishes on their Cajun-themed menu, but I was fine with it. It should be noted one of my coworkers didn’t care for the untoasted, unwarmed bun on her sandwich. I don’t deduct points for bun quality unless it’s stale, frozen, or Subway.

To be concluded!

Indianapolis Food Trucks Win Hearts and Lunchtime (Part 1 of 3)

May 14, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , 3 Comments

My favorite new (over)use of disposable income in 2011 was the veritable tidal wave of food trucks that began flooding Indianapolis in general and downtown in particular. All those new options coming and going at random have enlivened many a workday with their momentary detours from our ruts, their surprise goodies luring us curbside, and the occasional menu items we’ve had to Google for definitions.

Out of the sixteen trucks on which I’ve overspent, none of them has sold me a disastrous experience. Food quality has varied, but all staffers were pleasant and welcoming, as one would hope to encounter at their traditional brick-‘n’-mortar counterparts (albeit sometimes in vain). Super Bowl LXVI weekend saw a particularly lively food truck festival between several trucks gridlocked on Monument Circle, greeting and feeding any tourists who strayed from the colossal party down on Georgia Street. It was all the more opportunity for me to sample wares and pass the good word along to the neighbors on my cubicle block.

Of my food truck experiences to date, five served hard and stood tallest:

Duos. Their motto of “Slow Food Fast” humbly belies their true calling of vegan and gluten-free sandwiches and soups with gourmet ingredients, of the varieties exclusive to your more upscale groceries. Not all their dishes are tailored for those two categories, but those that are have been equally delicious to those of us with general-audience appetites. Duos has done so well for themselves that they’ve recently opened a brick-‘n’-mortar location down the street from the Children’s Museum. They’re the only food truck I’ve patronized more than half a dozen times, and the only truck with a schedule consistent enough for me to consider as appointment dining.

Keys Gourmet Slider Station. Think White Castle with exotic toppings. I heartily endorse this idea. I’ve rarely seen them around of late, but trust that they’ve been off enriching the lives of others who were far more in need of enrichment.

Mac Genie. A recent article in Indianapolis Monthly extolled the up-‘n’-coming trend of fine-dining restaurants offering specialty mac-‘n’-cheese on their menus for refined sensibilities. As I recall, none of the featured restaurants were near my home or workplace. Thankfully Mac Genie will appear from nowhere to grant my wish of dense, prettied-up cheesy carbs with non-standard toppings. (I actually make a concerted effort not to wish for this too often, for the sake of my physical health. This kind of harmful wishing is why I’m not allowed to own any Arabian lamps.)

Scout’s Treats. If you prefer your desserts prepackaged and artificially preserved, this truck isn’t for you. The proprietor/baker/driver specializes in scrumptious chocolate ganache cupcakes and sea salt brownies that make Little Debbie cry all over her factory floor.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner. On the complete opposite end of the culinary spectrum from Duos in innumerable ways is this mobile version of the longtime south-side drive-in As Seen On TV’s Man v. Food. Giant sandwiches and intimidating sides provide a heapin’ helping of shortening overdose that we less finicky businesspeople are hard-pressed to find anywhere else downtown. I have yet to witness a single coworker finish an entire tenderloin and order of onion rings without begging for assistance from others.

To be continued!

If a Ballot Has Only One Candidate, Does it Still Count as Voting?

May 8, 2012 By in Indiana, Mundane Tags: , , , , , 2 Comments

Tuesday, May 8th, is Indiana’s primary at last. It matters not a whit on the national stage, but our local elections can occasionally be intriguing to watch. Sometimes they even have ramifications.

On Election Day in November, I vote without regard for party lines because they’re meaningless to me and I wish they’d go away. Pick any belief, and you can find a supporter on either the Marvel or DC Coke or Pepsi Elvis or Beatles Democrat or Republican side. It’s an arbitrary team sport. In primaries, I’m a Democrat for the worst possible reasons.

When I registered to vote in 1992, I had the choice of registering as Democrat or Republican. End of choices. A or B. 0 or 1. Jack Johnson or John Jackson. No other parties were listed on the form, and there was no write-in blank to select a label of my own choosing such as “conscientious objector to the electoral process” or “Goonie”. At the time I was an apathetic agnostic who wanted to exercise his right to vote without any real direction or interest in the process itself. I settled on “Democrat” because gas prices had skyrocketed to an annoying $1.29 per gallon, and this persnickety, indebted college student just knew it was George Bush’s fault somehow. I had to send him a message, and listening to Jello Biafra speeches over and over on my Walkman clearly wasn’t getting through to him.

(This is why you don’t corner me and ask me to make snap decisions about topics on which I’m woefully unqualified. If I’d been the captive parent faced with the cruelty of Sophie’s Choice, I would’ve hemmed, hawed, and then gone with a gut feeling based on each boy’s GPA.)

I’ve retained the “Democrat” label to this day because participation requires a label. I’m not interested in researching my options for party realignment. No proof of allegiance is even required, just a willingness to engage in the process, for worse or for worst. Besides, the contention between Democratic primary candidates is often…um, interesting. Consider, for example, the Presidential primaries of 2008, when the only two real options remaining on Indiana’s primary ballot were Making Black History or Bride of the Monster.

Using the Indianapolis Star‘s handy online voter guide, my options for the 2012 primaries under my assigned label appear as follows, summarized as I go without preparation:

President: Obviously foregone.

US Senator: Also foregone. Incumbent Joe Donnelly is locked in.

US Representative: Four whole choices before me! At last, some comparisons to draw. The incumbent is a Muslim whose predecessor in office was his grandmother, who in turn was beloved by her district. Of his three contenders, one proudly stated on his questionnaire that he’s Christian “and not a Muslim.” One has centered his entire platform on the forthright message of “Obamacare SUCKS.” One failed to complete the Star‘s survey and obviously hates when people vote for him. I’ll have to sleep on this one.

Governor: I didn’t know this was foregone, but John Gregg appears to have no challengers on the Democrat side in his quest to catch the gubernatorial baton from the outgoing Mitch Daniels. Gregg also didn’t bother with the Star‘s survey, which may lose him my vote come November. He might lose it anyway, even if I can’t remember that slight. His opposition will be Republican U.S. representative Mike Pence (one of the few current politicians I genuinely respect) and the Libertarian candidate, Rupert Boneham from TV’s Survivor. Yes, that Rupert. Yes, really. Can’t wait to see that party started.

State Representative: Three candidates: (1) one guy who works for the Star‘s parent company in some capacity; (2) a tax attorney whose tiny profile photo faintly resembles Tracy Morgan but with dignity and class; and (3) a mother of two who has experience working in retirement communities, which probably comprise 90% of our local voting base. If they can remember her, she’s in.

County Coroner: The incumbent, Frank Lloyd Jr., seeks reelection. I don’t understand why this is an elected position. Why not just hire someone? Why require two candidates to stand at podiums and convince you why they are the one true master of autopsies? Politics, shmolitics — Master of Autopsies would be a fantastic reality show. Two coroners walk in; two bodies are pushed in; one walks out. (One coroner, I mean, not one body. Granted, that too would be good televisionin’.)

County Surveyor: Another Democratic incumbent rerun. Her resumé includes the word “pictometry”, which is new to me. For that she can stay, and “pictometry” goes on this week’s vocabulary list.

County Treasurer, and Township Advisory Board: Are all our bases belong to incumbent Democrats? Here I find two more positions in that same predicament. I propose a new rule: every office must have two or more primary contenders, or else that office is canceled till next year due to lack of interest from politician wannabes.

Superior Court Judges: Our marching orders are to vote for ten of the twelve proposed candidates. My votes will be going to one Gulf War vet, all the minorities I can detect, and an additional non-incumbent. That still leaves three unused votes, which by fiat may end up going to the youngest-looking of the last men standing. I’m sorry, but I have little else to sway me here. The surveys have far fewer questions than they did in past years. Most of the answers in this category were dry legalese and of little help for my personal discernment preferences. I suppose I could instead base my votes on whether their religion of choice is a Christian denomination or just plain Christian.

Disappointing results in hindsight: out of ten possible races, only three of them will require actual decision-making from us “Democrat” voters. See, this kind of sloppiness is what happens when I try to finish an assignment the night before it’s due. If I’d consulted the voter guide sooner, I would’ve known that only three races invite any real Internet research. Too bad the Star didn’t ask the candidates for their GPAs.

The Train Job

April 28, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , 3 Comments

If I were appointed Mass Transit Czar for the city of Indianapolis, the impossibility thereof notwithstanding, my first plan would be to install a subway system that would initially disrupt the lives of tens of thousands of citizens while ultimately serving hundreds of thousands more.

I’ve had limited exposure to subways in Chicago and DC in years past, but Manhattan’s far-reaching MTA system made last summer’s vacation possible and pleasurable thanks to its comprehensive geographic coverage, lack of service interruptions, and relatively smooth rides even when elbow room was at a premium.  Despite the occasional rush-hour crush and panhandler performance, I appreciated being able to relax in my own way while someone else drove us around at top speeds without the threat of automotive gridlock.  More than any tangible souvenir or gaudy Times Square photo, their subway was what I wanted to bring home from Manhattan more than anything else.

Alas, it can’t be done.  Despite the hopes and wishes of those citizens who’d love to see an efficient light-rail line connecting Carmel and downtown with each other and nowhere else, a combination of special interests, budgetary conservation, and fear of radical change all but ensures I won’t be riding any local rails within my lifetime.  The Methodist/Wishard “people mover” (a euphemism meaning “amusement-park rail ride”) is a nice attraction to stare at longingly during my daily commute, but I think it tops out at a paltry 1.5 miles per hour.  I also dislike that it only has two stops, neither of which is my house.  I understand Indianapolis has a railroad for travel to and from other cities, but my house isn’t that far away.  Adding insult to injury, our nearest IndyGo bus stop is a mile-and-half walk away, and receives only partial daily service.

Submitted for no one’s approval is my own proposal for what an Indianapolis subway system should look like:

Subway Proposal, Accompanying blog forthcoming.

My primary goal: eliminate the archaic wagon-wheel design of our IndyGo routes.  Once upon a time when downtown was everything to everyone, designating it as a transportation hub was a logical plan.  You could take the bus from nearly any point in the city to downtown, transfer to another bus for only a few cents extra, then head back out to any other point in town.  If you enjoyed the stopover in the heart of the city and didn’t mind spending an hour on travel time each way, the bus was a great option.  If you need a ride from West 38th Street to West 71st Street and aren’t up for bicycling, the bus is an absurd option.

Thus my ideal subway routes avoid this misplaced prioritization.  Downtown should not be a mandatory stop for every single ride.  In fact, I minimized downtown subway access because IndyGo has that somewhat covered.  Regardless of pricing, safety, speed, or smells, the option already exists for many neighborhoods.  I made two major concessions:  one line connecting 96th and Meridian to Greenwood Park Mall, and one connecting Avon and Washington Square.  I-465 is handy for driving from one quadrant of town to the next, but travel between polar opposites is interminable and frequently beyond interstate scope.  Those few who live near the randomly placed intersections of I-465 and other interstates should count their blessings.

My secondary goal:  end neighborhood isolationism.  It’s time we broke down barriers and learned to get along citywide.  We can’t do that very well if we never see each other.  Broad Ripple, for one, needs to learn to play better with others.  It has no interstate access, no convenient highways alongside it, and canals too tiny for riverboats.  I resent that every trip to the Vogue feels like I’m infiltrating a landlocked foreign nation, and that’s just the scary parking lot out back.  Sometimes commoners want vinyl LPs, magazine-article clothes, and fair-trade coffee, too.  It’s time to share with others.  Hence the direct line from Broad Ripple to today’s internationally flavored and commercially challenged Lafayette Square Mall area.  The two disparate communities should have much to share with each other.

Same goes double for the northeast side.  Every time I open an issue of Indianapolis Monthly or google new restaurant options, I get the impression all the city’s most talented restaurateurs are sequestering themselves in Carmel or its clingy entourage of other suburbs.  So many learned folk surely have ideas about life, love, peace, and success that would effect remarkable influence and widescale social uplift if only they could be spread to other, needier parts of town.  By direct contrast, Indy’s near-east side has a much longer history than CarmeLand, but is mentioned more frequently in Indianapolis Star articles about murder than any other side of town.  In my brave new city, they’re connected for the sake of transcending castes and fostering a deeper sense of cross-mindset synergy.  Think “buddy-cop film” writ large.  Who doesn’t like buddy-cop films?  If that’s not enough, this same line also connects Carmel with the Marion County Fairgrounds.  Convenient, right?

I’ve created several such team-ups like this, in the same spirit as those miserable “group projects” we all undertook in school against our will. And aren’t we as adults all the better for it?  To that end, I’ve connected Haughville to Beech Grove; Zionsville to Mars Hill; Fountain Square to the Pyramids; Butler University to the University of Indianapolis; the Indianapolis Motor Speedway to the Indianapolis Museum of Art; and Mass Ave to Mug-‘n’-Bun.  You’re all sister areas now.  Play nice.

As in Manhattan, transfers will still be necessary to reach some points B from certain points A.  You’ll note I’ve included a subway route alongside I-465 that can be used to reach Lafayette, Washington, Greenwood, and Castleton Square Malls all within the span of a single day.  That day, of course, would be Black Friday.  You can transfer from any of those four mall stops to the aforementioned meridian lines to reach Circle Centre Mall, and there’s an extra detour toward the Metropolis “lifestyle center” out in Plainfield.  For the true Black Friday overachiever, shuttle service would be offered between Castleton Square and the Keystone Fashion Mall, all the better to provide me access to Key Cinemas.

Speaking of me:  you’ll notice a conglomeration of sorts on the west side.  Since this is my proposal, my convenience is obviously paramount.  In addition to my Key Cinemas shuttle route, these routes are tailored to serve my house, my employer, my regular comic shop, my church, and Fry’s Electronics as well.  Anyone who is exactly like me in every way will learn to appreciate these small concessions.  By way of compromise, I agree to continue using my car for groceries, thereby eliminating one needless subway stop.  That’s just too many bags for me to drag around anyway, especially if the Mass Transit Czar position doesn’t oversee enough paid assistants.

In order to achieve all of this in as little time as possible, we may need to evacuate most of the city for several years until the bulldozing and tunneling are completed.  I also don’t look forward to the tense negotiations that will be required to arrange for the borrowing of lots of underground drilling equipment from West Virginia miners or from any heretofore undiscovered colonies of mole people.  On the upside, construction employment will be at an all-time high during the project.  Any and all unemployed humans and animals with thumbs will be cordially invited to participate.  Said thumbs don’t even need to be opposable.  We need all hands on deck if we’re to make my dream come true before I reach AARP age and become a much more dangerous driver than I already am.

According to my budgetary calculations, which may or may not be affected by how much calculus has faded from my memory since high school ended two decades ago, this project will cost the city approximately thirty-eleven jillion dollars.  Obviously the financial burden should not be dumped on hard-working Hoosier taxpayers, especially not those teeming masses who will be forced by eminent domain to vacate their demolished domiciles and hopefully relocate somewhere nicer and outside the IPS district.

Funding would instead be provided by declaring war on Ohio.  I don’t have any details worked out.  The drawing up of proper war plans would be delegated to the Indiana National Guard or whichever body our state charter designates for inter-state invasion maneuvers.  All I know is Ohio is larger than us, therefore possibly richer than us, and likely won’t even notice they’ve been conquered until it’s too late, after our new subways are operational and carting away their lost treasures, including but not limited to their narrow catalog of Kings Island Skee-Ball prizes and whatever autographed artifacts our boys can loot from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Granted, this plan is thoroughly unworkable and entirely fictitious.  It’s also just as likely to become reality in my lifetime as any sincere mass transit plan ever to be conceived for Indianapolis.

If this meets with no one’s approval, then I’ll offer to withdraw my name from consideration for the Mass Transit Czar position under one condition: if and only if Key Cinemas grants me the favor of opening a second location on the west side.  That should cost us considerably less than thirty-eleven jillion dollars, even allowing for organic snacks.