Timeless Taste: Historic Menus of Indiana Restaurants

A JOURNEY THROUGH INDIANA’S MOST STORIED DINING ROOMS AND THE RECIPES THAT STILL GRACE OUR TABLES

There’s something deeply nostalgic about reading an old restaurant menu. Each course feels like a time capsule—handwritten specials, proud proclamations of “filet mignon with bordelaise,” and prix fixe dinners that sound both retro and grand.

When we look back at Indiana’s dining past, we see more than what people ate—we see what felt special, what signaled sophistication, and what gathered Hoosiers around the table.

Through archives from the Indiana Historical Society, we can trace how dining developed across decades—from the white-tablecloth glamour of downtown Indianapolis to the familiar comfort of department-store elegance, and finally to the rise of the neighborhood bistro.

Three restaurants tell that story best: The Claypool Hotel, the L.S. Ayres Tea Room, and Chez Jean.

THE CLAYPOOL HOTEL: DINING AS SPECTACLE

The Claypool Hotel quickly became the crown jewel of Indianapolis after it opened in 1903. Politicians, movie stars, and newlyweds celebrated under its chandeliers. Historic Indianapolis founder Tiffany Benedict Browne obtained menus from the hotel, which read like performance programs: oysters on the half shell, rich venison stew, and stuffed capon (rooster) served in savory jelly, among other delicacies.

What’s remarkable is how much of it feels modern again. Smoked jowl? A great modern ingredient to flavor Brussels sprouts and other greens. Anchovy canapés are back in vogue, prized for their versatility and sustainable sourcing.

The Claypool’s dining room might have been formal, but its culinary foundation was simple: high-quality ingredients prepared with care and a sense of occasion. Today, that ethos feels familiar. We’ve traded servers in tuxedos for open kitchens, but the intention remains the same: to make a meal feel like something worth slowing down for.

THE L.S. AYRES TEA ROOM: EVERYDAY ELEGANCE

Just a few blocks away, inside the grand L.S. Ayres department store, the Tea Room offered a more accessible luxury. It was the original “ladies who lunch” spot where generations remember a meal that was as much ritual as sustenance.

The Tea Room’s menu featured comforting classics like creamy chicken velvet soup, mayonnaise-heavy chicken salad, and chicken pot pie with an all-margarine crust. These dishes weren’t flashy but they made a lasting impression on those who dined there.

Decades after it closed, home cooks across Indiana still re-create their favorite Tea Room dishes. The Indiana Historical Society even sells an L.S. Ayres Tea Room cookbook, ensuring the recipes live on in today’s kitchens, even if some cooks choose to adapt them to better fit modern tastes.

For example, some cooks may opt to add more complexity to the chicken velvet soup by starting with mirepoix, incorporating an acid like white wine or lemon juice, adding seasonings such as paprika and Herbs de Provence, and even garnishing with fresh parsley. The chicken pot pie might also get an update, with home cooks opting for an all butter crust or one made with shortening.

Regardless, the Tea Room reminds us that elegance doesn’t always mean extravagance. Sometimes it’s found in the familiar—foods that make us pause and remember where we first tasted them.

CHEZ JEAN: FINE DINING COMES HOME

Fine dining appeared in the suburbs in the second half of the 20th century. As seen in the Mooresville Public Library’s records, Chez Jean in Camby represented that shift beautifully. It was French, but not fussy. The menu featured coq au vin, beef bourguignon, and crème brûlée—dishes that felt exotic to some Hoosiers at first, but soon became synonymous with cozy sophistication.

Dining at Chez Jean marked a new chapter: Hoosiers were traveling more, watching Julia Child on TV, and curious about global flavors. What had once seemed foreign now felt familiar.

Today, coq au vin is a Sunday dinner recipe for many home cooks—a slow simmer of chicken, wine, and aromatics that perfumes the entire kitchen. Crème brûlée, once the pinnacle of French decadence, is now a dinner party classic, made with a few pantry staples.

The allure of Chez Jean wasn’t just in its food—it was in the feeling that Indiana’s culinary world was expanding, that fine dining could be both worldly and welcoming.

FROM THEN TO NOW

Looking across these three restaurants, it’s clear that Indiana’s food story isn’t about reinvention as much as preservation through evolution. Canapés like those served at the Claypool are seen in today’s charcuterie boards. The Tea Room’s chicken velvet soup feels timeless, not dated. Chez Jean’s French classics have become comfort food.

What’s changed most is context. Today, many of those dishes have left the white tablecloth behind, finding their way into home kitchens with new life. The menus that once defined an evening out now inspire weeknight dinners and Sunday suppers. The flavors linger, not as relics but as reminders that good food always finds its way back to the table.