Hoosiers Pork Out on Upland Beer and a Tenderloin Sandwich

Indiana, in the nation’s agricultural heartland, is a major producer of grains used in brewing. The first commercial breweries opened in 1816, the same year Indiana became a state, according to Hoosier Beer, a website with an impressively thorough study of the state’s brewing history. An early 19th-century influx of German immigrants spurred the industry’s rapid growth.

Despite two separate Prohibitions, widespread consolidation of breweries and a transition from large, lager-based regional breweries to craft-oriented microbreweries and brewpubs, Indiana has emerged as a leader in the Midwestern craft beer market. Today, the Indiana Brewers Guild lists more than 60 members.

Most beer geeks would automatically assert the state dominance of Munster’s famed 3 Floyds Brewing Co. With its hopped-up mega-IPAs, ambitious barrel-aging process and limited-edition releases that have fans lining up around the block, 3 Floyds is known the world over for intense brews set to a heavy-metal aesthetic. But I like to write about the little guys, especially those near to my heart, so I’m heading to Bloomington to showcase Upland Brewing Co.

I spent a lovely year in the liberal little punk town of Bloomington, home to Indiana University’s flagship campus, pursuing an ultimately unattainable Ph.D. and drinking my weight (and then some) in delicious Upland Brewing Co. beer. Might there be a link between my beer consumption and my poor academic performance? Possibly, but how could I regret indulging in the best craft beer southern Indiana had to offer?

Upland began brewing in 1998 on a quiet street just east of downtown Bloomington, far enough from campus to avoid the madness of Greek life and close enough to satiate car-less graduate students. This 11th Street location, known locally as “The Upland,” houses the company’s headquarters, a brewpub and production for the firm’s sour beers. All its other beers are brewed across town at its main production facility, Profile Parkway. Upland also has a tasting room in Indianapolis and a taproom in the Indianapolis suburb of Carmel. At the Bloomington brewpub, you’ll find hearty, farm-to-table eats alongside tasty brews and live music on the patio. Because beer is brewed on site, you can get your growler filled here and at Profile Parkway seven days a week, an attractive selling point in a state that prohibits the sale of packaged beer, wine and spirits on Sundays.

Since undergoing a 2012 expansion, Upland now offers a full line of seasonal sours, including a pucker-inducing peach lambic and a refreshing, earthy persimmon lambic. Sour beers, such as these lambics, represent an increasingly popular style, fermented with wild yeast sometimes harvested from flavorful fruit rinds. This natural fermentation process can take years to complete and the results are often hard to predict, making sour beers a special venture for any young brewery. Beyond these tart tipples, Upland’s classic lineup combines an adventurous, playful spirit with a healthy dose of Midwestern balance, drawing on fresh, local ingredients to really make the brews sing.

This year, Upland is brewing about 25 different beers, with various levels of distribution in Indiana, of course, plus Illinois, Kentucky, Ohio and Wisconsin. “We don’t have any schemes to take over the world,” says marketing director Andrea Lutz.

My favorites include Helios Pale Ale, Bad Elmer’s Porter and Komodo Dragonfly Black IPA. Helios has a crisp, citrusy and mildly bitter taste. Bad Elmer, named in tribute to the hardy folks who settled the heavily wooded uplands of southern Indiana, gets brewed with lots of roasted malt, yielding coffee, licorice and chocolate notes. I’m especially fond of Dragonfly, a grassy, roasty dark ale spiked with a pinch of lavender for a distinctly rounded, floral finish. It’s usually available from mid-October through March. My prime time for a Dragonfly comes when Bloomington’s leaves burst into multicolor bouquets of reds and oranges — that brief, crisp moment when students surge outside and before the drive-in theater shutters its concessions stand in preparation for another gray, dismal winter.

When I used to visit Upland for a bite and a brew, I’d usually gravitate toward the pub’s version of a greasy, indulgent Indiana staple: the Hoosier pork tenderloin sandwich. This mighty belly-warmer revolves around an enormous piece of breaded, fried tenderloin, spilling from its toasted kaiser roll and piled high with all the fixin’s: lettuce, sliced tomatoes, yellow mustard, mayonnaise, diced white onion and dill pickle chips. Upland also offers a vegetarian version of this local favorite, prepared with homemade seitan, a vegetarian wheat “meat.” It’s just as satisfying as the carnivores’ counterpart. Both versions pair equally well with a tall pint of pale ale, porter or Dragonfly, especially when set to a backdrop of good tunes, great friends and an IU buzzer-beater on the brewpub TV.