Indianapolis makes for a surprisingly stylish Midwest weekend getaway

For our weekend trip to Indianapolis, my mom and I checked into the Bottleworks Hotel, a former Coca-Cola bottling plant that’s been transformed into an art deco boutique hotel.

We marveled at the lobby’s floor-to-ceiling geometric tile and oversized black-and-white diamond checkered floors. Gilded mirrors and tall windows make the lobby feel even brighter, in contrast to the dark wood hallway. We passed glass windows mottled with blotches of turquoise, yellow and red, carrying the color motifs from the lobby into the moody depths of the hotel.

This was my first visit to Indianapolis, a trip planned out of sheer curiosity about the city whose claim to fame is the Indianapolis 500. I was eager to get acquainted with IndyCar culture and learn what else Indianapolis has to offer. I noted that Indianapolis is lovable for many of the same reasons that Minneapolis is. Both are midsize Midwestern cities with family-friendly parks and museums, great biking infrastructure and a strong community supporting its sports teams.

After settling into our expansive suite, we explored the Bottleworks District, anchored by the hotel. We walked past restaurant patios, fitness studios and indie shops filled with colorful home goods and quirky gifts. The architecture soon shifted from modern storefronts to historic landmarks.

The Old National Centre, set inside a former Freemason temple, loomed ahead, while the nearby Atheneum — a German Renaissance Revival building — houses arts organizations and the Rathskeller, the city’s oldest restaurant. The occasional mural of working-class Hoosiers stretched across weathered brick exteriors.

The Indianapolis Firefighters Museum is in an unassuming firehouse surrounded by memorials to service members. One plaque honors James E. O’Donnell, one of 316 survivors when the USS Indianapolis was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine in World War II. O’Donnell returned home to serve as a firefighter and advocated for the USS Indianapolis National Memorial on the nearby Canal Walk.

Second only to Washington, D.C., for the amount of monuments, Indianapolis feels like an open-air museum dedicated to Indiana’s legacy of service. We rented bikes and hopped on the Indianapolis Cultural Trail. The city’s most recognizable symbol is the 1902 Soldiers and Sailors Monument in the center of Monument Circle. It honors Indiana war veterans with bronze statues, carved reliefs and a spiral staircase that leads to an observation deck. We took the elevator to Astrea, the rooftop bar at the new InterContinental Indianapolis, for panoramic views and a charcuterie plate of mustards, pickles and cured meats inspired by Indiana’s German heritage.

The Indianapolis Motor Speedway is a vast sports complex that welcomes 350,000 fans each Memorial Day weekend for the Indy 500. Our first stop was the newly renovated Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum. We appreciated the recreated Gasoline Alley, lined with vintage garages and race cars dating to the early 1900s. The main gallery showcases a collection of past winning cars and exhibits, one explaining why Indy 500 champions chug milk after their wins. We hopped aboard a bus for the “Kiss The Bricks” tour, feeling the intense slope of the track and learning more about how the country’s most famous car race is conducted.

We spent a lovely afternoon at Newfields, wandering through its sprawling 152‑acre cultural campus. We ventured to its Virginia B. Fairbanks Art & Nature Park in search of “Funky Bones,” a sculpture by Atelier Van Lieshout that I knew from the movie “The Fault in Our Stars,” which is set in Indianapolis. I stepped inside a white pavilion by the lake and was met with faint, echoing voices. It turned out to be Pakistani-American artist Anila Quayyum Agha’s immersive installation “This Is NOT a Refuge,” which invites visitors to hear the experiences of immigrants in Indianapolis.

At the Indianapolis Museum of Art inside Newfields, we discovered halls of contemporary works that explored new, surprising mediums and grappled with the good, bad and ugly parts of American culture. We admired a stained-glass window commissioned for Indiana native President Benjamin Harrison after his death.

Indianapolis was the birthplace of jazz legends like Wes Montgomery and Freddie Hubbard, and the city is home to several jazz venues. We attended an intimate after-dinner performance at the Cabaret, where Tony winner Joaquina Kalukango sang hits by Joni Mitchell, Norah Jones and Nina Simone. Another mother-daughter duo regaled us with stories from their many nights together at Indianapolis theaters.

Housed in an old horse stable, Livery was packed on a Friday night. After an hour at the bar, we were seated on the patio where we snacked on Livery’s alternative to a bread basket, a cup of crunchy chicharrón wheels made with rice flour. We split juicy steak empanadas and roasted cauliflower bites, sauteed in sweet gastrique sauce and topped with pepita seeds and fresno peppers.

A short walk from the Bottleworks Hotel, Leviathan Bakehouse came highly recommended as a breakfast spot. The long line made sense once we bit into our flaky, savory breakfast sandwiches made with Indiana ham, Gruyére Swiss cheese, egg and salsa verde.

I was looking forward to Milktooth after reading its accolades from Food & Wine and Bon Appétit. We entered through large garage doors and were seated at a long community table between groups of friends swapping stories. We split what may be the most decadent grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever experienced. Fontina, cream cheese, duck egg and truffle honey oozed out from wide slabs of cranberry walnut bread — a beautiful and delicious mess.