Spa cuisine, 19th century style

Nothing pleases a food critic more than when a restaurant improves. Especially when the restaurant is housed in one of the city’s most graceful turn-of-the-century residences in one of downtown’s most revered historic districts. At the Villa Inn on the Old Northside, vaulted ceilings, arched picture windows and plenty of rich color and dark wood transport you to when the building was first erected as an homage to a Florentine villa by pork-packing mogul William J. Reid. It’s a setting that, if anything, deserves good food.

Sea bass fillet ($24)

Despite a rocky first few years and some well-publicized turnover in chefs, recent signs indicated that the restaurant at the Villa was hitting its stride. Mentions among Indy’s top restaurants and recommendations from friends that this place was “much better now” made it high time to try this unique neighborhood eatery again.

The place was under-populated the night we stopped in, though a few customers were heading down for manicures at the inn’s spa. Given the intimate space, however, we were glad to have the stately dining room nearly to ourselves — and to test out the culinary upgrades ushered in by recent Chef Louis Gornick and current chef and celebrity cookbook author Wendell Fowler.

A few quirks caused some consternation at the outset. Perhaps mere oversight, perhaps because it was early in the week before deliveries had come in, the kitchen was out of several essential menu items: the much-talked-about veal meatballs that our waitress recommended then retracted; the gnocchi that accompany the sautéed chicken breast; and, most baffling, bread.

As penance for the dearth of bread, the chef sent out a little plate of crostini, which, strangely, seemed made from bread, with a variety of toppings. These amuse bouche weren’t exactly stellar — a smoked salmon spread was a little solid and baby greens quite wilted. But who were we to turn up our noses at a tasty peace offering?

Fortunately, almost every dish that followed had us marveling at how pleasing a light touch to Mediterranean-inspired cuisine could be. Gone were heavy sauces laden with butter and cream. In place of those absconded meatballs, sautéed calamari ($8.50) were tender and garlicky with a little heat from chili flakes and a hint of sweetness from fresh tomatoes. This was a far cry from the breaded calamari standard at most Italian joints. A dignified dollop of saffron risotto was softer than al dente, but the seasoning was just right.

At the other end of the spectrum was a warm goat cheese salad ($9): a sweet, tangy vinaigrette with hints of apple and honey-dressed tender greens, but the main attraction was an oversized nugget of fried goat cheese dusted liberally with ground almonds. By far the richest thing we ate all evening, it was a decadent pause in an otherwise breezy meal. A Caesar salad ($6.50) had just the right amount of piquant, creamy dressing. Romaine was a little random in size and sometimes lacking crunch, but the flavors were in good balance.

Entrées further enforced Fowler’s eye toward healthfulness. Perhaps most impressive, though a bit guilt-inducing, given its depletion from over-fishing, was a meaty sea bass filet poached in white wine and olive oil ($24). Sweet slices of d’anjou pear, along with the essence of orange and bits of tomato, made for a fresh, flavorful topping on the moist, flaky fish. A side of perfectly cooked penne in an ultra-light pesto sauce seemed a strange flavor contrast. But this rounded out the mild fish perfectly. A few spears of roasted asparagus and a sweet golden beet completed a gorgeous presentation.

A salmon special ($22) included a delicious seared salmon filet, the same roasted asparagus, whole poached and sautéed carrots and a colorful orzo with sautéed vegetables. Only a cold cucumber-dill sauce seemed out of place on the otherwise artful and well-balanced plate. Equally light but no less flavorful was a big bowl of bowtie pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, artichokes, white-wine butter and four plump prawns ($19).

At such a romantic restaurant, you might expect a few desserts to be prepared in house. Not at the Villa. Cheesecakes hail from franchise giant The Cheesecake Factory, and all additional confections are shipped in. Still, an amaretto cheesecake was quite tasty and not overpowered with almond flavor. A berry tart the waitress claimed came all the way from Tuscany was also excellent, with a nice contrast of tart berries and a sweet, cake-like crust.
Even with a few dishes missing in action, our meal had been quite edifying. Indeed, while the location was the same, the food was decidedly better — and more interesting — than in any previous visit. Had it been warmer, we could have sat at one of the tables along Delaware Street, imagining what 19th century life might have been like in this bustling “suburb” of downtown. Surely they didn’t have such delicious spa cuisine back then.