4 minute read
INDY PIONEER
Greg Hardesty remembered
Written by Neil Charles
One of the most talented, respected and well-liked chefs in this city’s culinary history, Greg Hardesty passed away from leukemia in June of this year. In spite of his relative youth, Greg was considered one of the elder statesmen of the local fine dining scene, a serious and passionate chef whose calm and focus provided a welcome contrast to the stereotypical kitchen tyrants of old. A key player in the resurgence of Indianapolis’ independent restaurants in the early 2000s, Greg was born in Terre Haute and moved to Fort Wayne early in his childhood. A 1991 graduate of Indiana University, the future multiple James Beard Award nominee was uncertain about his career path until he was hired by Dieter Puska at the Glass Chimney after a brief stint as a vinyl siding salesman.
A move to Los Angeles with his wife Susan in the mid-1990s led to a position at one of Joachim Splichal’s restaurants which in turn resulted in a sous chef role at San Francisco’s legendary Rubicon. After the birth of the first of two daughters, Juliet and Gloria, the Hardestys moved back to Indianapolis to be closer to family and opened the much-feted H2O Sushi in Broad Ripple. Simple yet refined, H2O placed the emphasis firmly on quality fish and produce, requiring an attention to detail and freshness of ingredients that would define the rest of the chef’s culinary career. Unable to hide behind heavy sauces or cunning preparations, H2O presented diners with the kind of ingredient-based food that was only just starting to take root on the local dining scene.
Neal Brown, perhaps Indy’s most well-known chef, remembers those early days. “While Greg has been credited as a developer of talent, his greatest professional contribution was to the craft of cooking,” he told us. “He was the best chef among us, and we all know it.” H2O laid the groundwork for Hardesty’s future in independent restaurants. With his next venture, the ultra-hip downtown eatery Elements, he attracted the attention of serious diners, the great and the good and the arbiters of taste at the James Beard Foundation. Exploring the relatively new concept of farm to table, and with an emphasis on local ingredients, Hardesty pioneered (along with a couple of others) a style of dining in Indianapolis that we take for granted these days. Followed by a growing legion of fans, the chef pursued his own path of excellence and creativity without the corporate constraints that hold back so many talented cooks.
With his third restaurant, Recess, Hardesty seemed to really hit his stride. Based around ultrafresh ingredients, with a daily prix-fixe menu often conjured up just a few hours before service, this sparsely decorated, urban-chic establishment offered the kind of seat-of-the-pants experience that kept both diners and staff on their toes. Eating at Recess was an exercise in trust on everyone’s part: trust that there would be ingredients of a suitable quality to present to the diners, and trust that the chef would find something to do with them. For the average diner, the concept of a free-wheeling, spur of the moment kind of menu was doubtless a bit of a reach. For those who put their palates in Hardesty’s hands and were prepared to take a leap of faith, the results were frequently stunning. “We think that he brought proper cooking techniques to Indianapolis along with using local and sustainable products,” says Rosa Hanslits, who with her husband Tony could be considered the grandparents of Indy’s fine dining scene. “Tony was always in awe of how wonderful Greg’s flavors tasted together. In fact, when Greg came to one of our chef’s table evenings, Tony was nervous to cook for him. But soon they started comparing chef stories and laughing and that all disappeared.”
The Recess years, under Greg’s wise and nurturing tutelage, produced several of the city’s most notable chefs and restaurateurs, including Bluebeard’s Abbi Merris and the nationally renowned Jonathan Brooks of Milktooth and Beholder. “Greg had a desire to lift up others to their greatest potential, says Hardesty’s wife Susan. “He loved cooking for and working with people who loved food. He was brutally honest but didn’t judge. He believed in forgiveness and second chances.”
In the restaurant business, there must be room for second chances, such is the nature of the beast. “Greg was a strong figure whom every chef I have known looked to and still looks up to; he really made me feel like we were working together,” explains Brooks. “Learning together, moving towards the same goals. He was graceful in a way that showed he truly loved the fruits and vegetables of the earth. He taught me way more grace than all the Chicago guys who just yelled at me when there were water marks on my station.”
Perhaps the best words should be saved for last -- those of Susan Hardesty. “As the days go by, more and more people reach out to tell me how much they miss being able to ask Greg cooking questions. He is in all of us as we eat and cook, as we do our best to honor good ingredients and enjoy real food.”
Greg Hardesty’s legacy permeates the Indianapolis independent dining scene. If our chefs have become more edgy, less hidebound, more prepared to take risks and push the envelope a bit, a lot of the credit for that goes to this unassuming man from Fort Wayne who happened to find his calling at exactly the right time and in the right place. His food will be missed, but his memory will live on.