11 Jan The Winter Beer Run, Part 1: Taxman Brewing Brings Indy’s New and Old World Together
I grew up in the sort of rustic, rural setting idealized in David Anspaugh’s classic film, Hoosiers. My grandparents owned a tiny farm in southern Owen County complete with sweeping vistas which framed small pocket fields back dropped by walls of oak, sycamore, and ash trees. Centering the scene was the little (tiny, actually) three-bedroom ranch house I practically grew up in. In fact, all of us back in the 70’s and 80’s came of age in little hovels like that. Some pristinely clean surrounded by neatly manicured lawns and shrubs, others in disarray smothered in chipped paint or half-wrapped by warped aluminum siding…further embellished by partially mown lawns and the clichéd ’78 Buick sitting on cinder-blocks. Regardless if the setting was worthy of a Good Housekeeping photo shoot or a potential set design for a Cousin Eddie television series, what they all were was small…or as we called them, modest.
Southwest of Indianapolis, traveling east on 144, you can see remnants of that world still tucked
behind a copse of pines or just over one of the many small hills the highway careens. But, while
the south side of the highway almost always reminds me of that world where I came from, the
north side shows me something else. Here, Indy encroaches. Across the road from the
dilapidated two-bedroom bungalow rests a five-bedroom brick behemoth with a three-car garage,
a swimming pool, and a perfectly level black-asphalt driveway. Across from the small
farmhouse where kids spend their summers changing the oil in the tractors and playing make-
believe farm in the sandbox with sticks and pieces of maple bark, a vast sports-park stretches
toward Greenwood where those kids spend their summers playing on thousand-dollar travel
soccer teams adorned with hundred-dollar uniforms.
years raising my own children in the other, the juxtaposition of these very different milieus
stands as a visible representation of the cultural and economic evolution of Indiana. And locked
squarely in the middle of that transition—where new money meets old money or, in some cases,
no money—sits the craft beer explosion. Whether Nathan Huelsebusch and his partners at
Taxman Brewery meant to capture that sense of blending worlds when they designed and opened
their brewery in Bargersville is a question for another time, but when I crossed the rows of
railroad tracks and gazed upon the towering grain bins surrounding the new gastropub, I couldn’t
help but think that they did.
The last time I went on a lengthy brew tour throughout the Indy area (stops here, here, here,
here…then here and here) I traveled with my son, Jim. For this winter’s journey Jim joined me
again as did his life-long friend, Tyler, and my fiancée, Wendi. Together, we arrived on a
gloomy, overcast Saturday afternoon. The mixture of steady rain and intermittent drizzle,
combined with the patchwork splotches of gray in the sky, worked strangely well with both the
tall grain silos lording over us and with the pub itself, the ominous “skull-and-top hat” logo
giving us that Admiral Benbow Inn feeling from its affixed position on the corner of the
building.
Before touching my first drop of beer, we were all instantly taken in by the pub’s presence in the
middle of this quiet little town. After snapping a photo of the pub’s mesmerizing corner sign, I
turned to my immediate right heading into the recessed corner entrance. That doorway,
however, the former entry way for the Tri-State Bolt Co, was sealed off, replaced by glass
wainscoting and plate windows. Embarrassed, I pulled my hand away from the glass, tried to
suavely brush it over my hair, and I stood in the alcove for a moment longer, “inspecting” the
renovation with an exaggerated attempt at a “keen eye.” Hopefully, I’d convinced at least one of
the patrons on the other side of the window that I wasn’t trying to push my way through and end
up sprawled across their lunch table…but I doubt I did.
After doubling back to the parking lot and heading for…you know, the real entrance…I spotted
an enticing fire, fighting the raindrops from a wrought-iron kettle, all situated in a comfortably
expansive open patio area. Vacant on this day, I imagined it filled with seats and tables on a hot
summer afternoon and instantly made a mental note to come back in June or July.
widened my eyes. The first detail I noticed wasn’t specific. Rather, I was impressed by the
pub’s blending of color, most notably steely gray with varying shades of brown. The former
glistened from the floor, the chairs and stools, and the metal work around the bar. But the
latter—the chiseled block light fixtures suspended over the dining area, the refurbished floor
joists latticing the ceiling above us, the sturdy pillars scattered throughout the pub, the attractive
wood-cut signs spelling out all the available beers on tap, and the peripheral woodwork along
several of the walls—all of this really drove home for me the motif of converging worlds which
had been gnawing at me as we had neared the town itself. Here, where Urban Outfitters meets
Tolkien’s Bree Inn which meets Newhart’s Stratford Inn, all things Indianapolis dovetails with
all things Bargersville. Here a blue-collar worker in a Carhart can sit before his burger and
blonde ale within earshot of the kid drinking a coffee ale and sporting the Billy Idol haircut.
And those beers… When I briefly spoke to Nathan at the Fishers on Tap event last year, he
introduced me to Taxman’s focus on Belgian style beers. At the time, while I sampled his
products, the full impact of that theme didn’t hit me. In an environment like a beer festival, so
many different styles wash over and eventually numb the palette. But once I was sitting in the
gastropub itself and working with Wendi and the boys through a couple flights we had
assembled, I realized that Taxman’s particular brewing focus produced a host of beers which are
very different from the paddle-boards we’d tried at so many other places.
First of all—for people new to the craft beer culture, those who haven’t quite caught on to the
more bitter, hoppier action taking place—Taxman’s array proves quite favorable. We opened
with the “la maison white wine barrel” a light-bodied specialty brew and a somewhat fruity beer.
I’ll admit it was delicious, but as a drinker accustomed to beers with more bite to them, the
sweetness caught me off guard and brought out a slight pucker. Wendi and the boys, however,
absolutely loved it.
he had a pretty good Christmas, too). The gang also enjoyed the next beer on the list, an abbey blonde named “the standard.” One characteristic I particularly like about this brew is its low alcohol
volume. That, combined with its low IBU and sweet taste, makes it not only a good “gateway
beer” for transition drinkers, but also a great summer beer for all drinkers as well.
We continued through the samples tasting “deduction” (a low IBU dubbel with another tinge of
sweetness to it), then “exemption” (a slightly sharper trippel which I enjoyed quite well), and
rounded the first flight off with “qualified” (a 10% quad that was both incredibly tasty and
potent…even for a sample). By the end of our visit, Wendi decided she was most impressed
with one of the seasonal beers called “tax holiday,” a very malty beer with a chocolate flavor to
it which put together created a taste very fitting for the season. My favorite, on the other hand,
was called “declaration,” a Belgian double IPA that sat well on the tongue and hit every note for
me on the way down.
A couple hours later, as we traveled north into Greenwood, all the rustic scenery abruptly
disappeared about 10 miles south of Indy. In the span of one block, pastures and scattered
treescapes surrendered to strip malls and multi-lane intersections. Although I knew I’d enjoy the
next stops on our Winter Beer Run, I couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. Just as the trip to
Bargersville had reminded me of my childhood on that little farm playing hide-and-seek with my
brother in cornfields, my drive north into the city also reminded me how far I had moved away
from that past. For me, Taxman was more than a beer run, it was a place where I could put one
foot in each part of my life. There, I could embrace the man I’ve become while savoring the boy
I once was. For that reason and more, I will be traveling to Taxman again.
Next Stop: Planetary Brewery, the smallest in the state.
**Note: Much of the woodwork inside Taxman gastropub was created by Mark Frisbe of
Gergen Studio. Mark is a friend, an artisan, a craftsman, and his work inside Taxman is flat-out
breathtaking.
Brewcup
Posted at 06:23h, 11 JanuaryVery nice article. For me Taxman is more than a gastropub. It’s an experience. Don’t miss it!!
Aaron Lang
Posted at 07:31h, 11 JanuaryGreat read! I will definitely check out Tax Man now!
Cincy beer dude
Posted at 10:48h, 11 Januarylove this. I can’t wait to visit now and I live in Cincinnati!