Restaurants

It started a little early this year. A friend asked the other day where we intend to spend Thanksgiving.

Now from many people, this question means “are you planning to spend the holiday with your goddaughters in the Chicago suburbs or are you heading over to your cousins’ bash in Springfield, Illinois? Or will you join your sister-in-law’s family around the table?” But this particular friend knows one of my darkest secrets: Every so often, my husband and I tell all the different groups that we’ve accepted an invitation to someone else’s house just so we can hang out at our own undetected. You know, sleep in, watch the Macy’s parade, put up the Christmas tree, head out to dinner in a restaurant.

We’re due for that subterfuge.

Most people in Indianapolis like to book their reservations at a family-style dining restaurant like the Kopper Kettle Inn in Morristown or Hollyhock Hill on the north side of the city. We’ve done both and loaded down the table with the usual suspects: turkey, stuffing, green beans, mashed potatoes, corn, rolls. Some friends have suggested Jonathan Byrd’s Cafeteria puts out a nice spread, too.

I thank them for their advice, but I already have my reservations at Steak n Ale … uh, I mean The Polo Club Steakhouse.

Yes, it’s great to have this restaurant landmark back in Indianapolis. And heaven knows, I want to support them so they remain here for years to come. But I chose them for the big turkey day strictly because their specialty isn’t turkey.

Oh, they will have what they describe as a gourmet traditional turkey dinner on the menu, and I’m sure I’ll be surrounded by people ordering it and enjoying the entrees just as much as their counterparts seated at Hollyhock Hills and Kopper Kettle. But on a day set aside to give thanks for the good things I have in life, I’m finished putting a kink in that attitude by putting something I really don’t like on my table. It’s filet mignon for me, baby, medium rare with French fries or a baked potato. And no one in town can serve up a steak like The Polo Club, regardless of the date on the calendar.

The first time I broke the mold, at a country club dinner in Grayslake, Illinois, to be precise, my college roommates stared at me like I’d grown two heads. My husband laughed. Then came the year when we decided to play hooky too late and failed to make reservations anywhere in time — we now refer to it as the Cracker Barrel debacle. I ordered  Uncle Hershel’s Favorite because I figured their kitchen would be better at eggs and grits than anything resembling Thanksgiving. My husband laughed.

This year, when I told him we had reservations at The Polo Club, his eyes lit up, his smile got misty and he said, “Just the two of us? Awesome. I love their steak.”

Rebellion is contagious as well as delicious. And I’m very grateful for that.

Polo Club

4302 S. East St.

Indianapolis, IN 46217

(317) 780-1711

Hollyhock Hill

8110 College Ave.

Indianapolis, IN 46240

(317) 251-2294

Kopper Kettle Inn

135 W. Main St.

Morristown, IN 46161

(765) 763.6767

Photography: babasteve, The Polo Club