Indy's Ethnic Flavor
Japanese Seafood
Say what you want about strip malls, but at least early arrivals to El Morocco Restaurant in Indianapolis have their pick of places to park. The blacktop in front runs past a nail salon, alteration shop, Italian bistro, Thai restaurant, Russian grocery and Japanese sushi bar. Get there early, and there's room enough for everyone's patrons. Get there late, and you'll have to find a space in the mortuary's lot next door.
Whatever the time, more people seem to be finding themselves at the strip malls at West 86th Street and Ditch Road, known in Indy simply as 86th and Ditch. Nearly a dozen small ethnic restaurants operate in this North Side enclave. Many have opened in the past five years, bringing unusual flavor to an area once known simply for gas stations and fast-food restaurants. The 86th and Ditch strip mallswhich also include Chinese, Mexican, Indian and American-fusion storefrontshave become a culinary destination for diners seeking diverse tastes and friendly service.
In my 30 years as an Indy-based food journalist, I have watched this area grow from a two-lane road with one restaurant and no traffic light to a busy corridor. But the transformation certainly wasn't overnight. Big cities are always changing; here, storefronts became vacant as other parts of the city grew trendier and more upscale. But the vacancies at 86th and Ditch opened the door for small restaurateurs looking to launch their dreams.
"This was a strip mall, but also with some charm," says Mohammed, a chef who opened his storefront restaurant behind Hardee's and Boston Market. "People are now accepting more than Mexican and Chinese food."
Except for photos of belly dancers in the window, little prepares me for the tastes, sights and sounds inside El Morocco. Lively North African music and the aroma of exotic spices say welcome even before the staff, dressed in flowing native robes, greets me. I take a minute to adjust to the dim lighting, then admire the scarf-draped walls and Moroccan art before removing my shoes and settling on one of the floor cushions circling the knee-high tables.
The washing of hands isn't just ceremonial: Patrons at El Morocco don't use silverware. We sip soup from bowls, and chunks of hearty bread help scoop up lamb tagine (stew), couscous, kabobs and b'steeya, a luscious, meat-filled dish that also includes spinach, feta, almonds and olives layered in crispy sheets of phyllo. "It's the star of the evening," Mohammed says, adding the dish dates back to the Moors and is second to couscous as Morocco's national dish. "What makes my restaurant so unique is that it's not about just the healthful food. It has to do with the culture of Morocco and how it's connected to the people. The people have history, and you can see it in their food."






