Baltimore’s unique farmers market culture is one of the many reasons we’re lucky to call the area home. Not only do the seasonal pop-up events make Maryland-grown goods accessible to all (many, including the big Baltimore Farmers Market beneath the JFX, accept SNAP and WIC benefits), they’re also a means of fostering community.

A mid-morning stroll around the tents is the perfect opportunity to meet your neighbors, find your new favorite weekend treat, and chat with the purveyors who are directly responsible for filling your fridge. Perhaps the best part? You walk away—full totes in hand, ready for the week ahead—knowing that you supported local.

As the weather gets warmer, consult our ultimate roundup of the region’s best farmers markets—complete with dates, times, and vendor details—to plan out your next haul.

32nd Street Farmers Market

Saturdays, year-round. Corner of E. 32nd & Barclay Sts. 7 a.m.–12 p.m.

This fan-favorite Saturday morning gathering in Waverly is one of few markets that operates year-round, but it always welcomes a few new faces just in time for the spring season. Be sure to pick up staples from the region’s best growers and makers, like treats from La Bohemia Bakery, kombucha from Hex Ferments, meats from Liberty Delight Farms, and produce from the Farm Alliance of Baltimore. 

Baltimore Farmers Market

Sundays through Dec. 20. Corner of Holliday and Saratoga Sts. 7 a.m.-12 p.m. 

The city’s massive farmers market under I-83 returns for its 49th season with a full lineup of farmers, food businesses, and artisans (think: local clothing line Love More Bmore and homegrown sticker queen Erin Dayhaw) booked every weekend through December. Come for market classics such as fruit from Agriberry Farm, funghi from The Mushroom Stand, and Migues Mini donuts. (Be sure to line up early for that last one!)

Back again this year, the market is offering quiet shopping hours from 7-9:30 a.m. to provide a sensory-friendly environment for those preferring a laid-back shopping experience. Then, from 9:30 a.m. to noon, expect the regular hustle and bustle to resume rain or shine.

BMI Farmers Market

Saturdays, May 16-Nov 21. 1415 Key Hwy. 9 a.m.-1 p.m.

A stroll around the Baltimore Museum of Industry’s open-air market in South Baltimore, with its iconic view of the Domino Sugar sign, is an ideal way to start the weekend. The vendor list for this year is still being finalized, but expect plenty of Maryland-grown produce, oven-fresh bread, bright flowers, ready-to-eat treats, and artisan creations.

Catonsville Farmers Market

Every Wednesday starting 5/6: 9 a.m.-12 p.m. (Check Facebook for weekly updates.) 5820 Edmondson Ave., Catonsville.

This community get-together has been a staple in Catonsville since 2002. Stop by the Christian Temple on Edmondson Avenue for eggs, meats, vegetables, perennial flowers, and handmade breads and pastries. Participating purveyors rotate frequently (check Facebook for weekly lineups) but have included well-knowns like Broom’s Bloom Dairy and Andy’s Eggs and Poultry.

Fells Point Farmers Market

Saturdays through April 25: 9 a.m.-12:30 p.m. May 2-Dec. 19.: 8 a.m.-12:30 p.m. Corner of Broadway & Thames Sts.

Grabbing a Zeke’s Coffee to sip while you wander around this Broadway Square fixture is a Saturday morning well-spent, if you ask us. Local farmers and regional vendors fill the brick plaza, touting everything from produce and pickles to local honey and smoked fish. Expect favorite faces like Albright Farms, Cane Collective, and Soul Smoked BBQ.

Govans Farmers Market

Wednesdays, June-November. 5104 York Rd. 3-6 p.m. 

This vibrant Northeast Baltimore market serves a number of surrounding neighborhoods—which lack access to community grocery stores—with its mid-week gatherings in the safety department parking lot of Loyola University’s Evergreen Campus. Make it a destination for fresh produce and herbs from local growers such as Parkton’s Oxbow Farm and White Hall’s Stoecker Farms. Other treats include fresh-pressed juices and lemonades, baked goods, and food truck fare.

Hereford Farmers Market

Saturdays, May 9-November 21. 17301 York Road, Parkton. 9 a.m.-12 p.m.

Head north to Hereford High School in the rolling hills of Monkton for finds such as fresh produce from Tommy’s Peppers and artisan bread from Bowbread. There are also guest vendors, grab-and-go eats, and local bands to look forward to every weekend.

Mt. Washington Farmers Market

Sundays through Nov. 23. 2101 West Rogers Ave. 10 a.m.-2 p.m.

This market’s mission is to bring together producers and artists from within a 100-mile radius of Baltimore City. Spend your Sundays mingling with small businesses in the historic area, browsing everything from fresh coffee and honey to handmade pasta and artisanal breads. Previous participants have included Dear Globe Coffee Roasters, Bmore Poultry and Plants, and BMore Pasta.

Overlea Farmers Market

Every other Saturday, June 6-October 24. (See specific dates, here.) St. James Evangelical Lutheran Church. 8 W. Overlea Ave. 8:30 a.m.–12:30 p.m.

Celebrating its 11-year anniversary this season, this small market in Northeast Baltimore provides its tight-knit community with fresh produce and protein throughout the warm-weather months. Every other Saturday, support local growers with the purchase of baked goods, coffee, local honey, jams, and olive oils. There’s also special activity table for kiddos to get in on the fun, too.

Pikesville Farmers Market

Tuesdays, May 5-November 24. Pikesville Armory. 640 Reisterstown Rd. 2-6 p.m.

Now settled at its new home at the Pikesville Armory, this annual market organized by the Greater Baltimore Chamber of Commerce sells everything from fruits and veggies to meat, eggs, dairy, bread, and hot prepared foods. Extra goodies include jams, jellies, honey, and pastries. The new setting is perfect for picnics, so bring a blanket and stay a while to enjoy your finds on the lawn.

Pratt Street Market

Thursdays, May-October. Corner of Pratt & Light Sts. 11 a.m.-2 p.m. 

Downtown Partnership’s weekly lunch market at Pratt & Light Street Plaza is a great way for commuters (and remote workers!) to spend their break outside, taking in the skyline views. Expect a rotating lineup of food trucks, plus farm-fresh stands and artisans hawking their scratch-made goods.

Reisterstown Farmers Market

Sundays, June 7-September 27. 120 Main Street, Reisterstown. 9 a.m.-1 p.m.

Head to Franklin Middle School to support sustainable agriculture by stocking up on local fruits, veggies, and flowers at this weekly pop-up shop. Plus, look out for new additions to your beer and wine fridge, handcrafted jewelry from local makers, and natural wellness products.

Towson Farmers Market

Thursdays, June 4-Nov. 19. Allegheny & Washington Aves. 10:30 a.m.–2:30 p.m.

Located in the heart of downtown Towson, this veteran market is a county favorite for its host of local farmers and food trucks throughout the summer and fall. Shoppers can expect fresh produce, scratch-made goods, and plenty of tasty lunch-break options.

Additional reporting by Mia Resnicow and Brenny Tichy

[1/9/25: Editor’s Note: Sadly, former Orioles pitcher Brian Matusz—who is profiled in this April 2010 piece—passed away earlier this week. He was 37 and his cause of death is still under investigation.

“A staple in our clubhouse from 2009-2016, Brian was beloved throughout Birdland, and his passion for baseball and our community was unmatched,” reads a statement released by the Orioles on Jan. 7. “He dedicated his time to connecting with any fan he could, was a cherished teammate, and always had a smile on his face.”

Read on for our interview with Matusz and four other emerging players after their rookie season, in which he discussed getting called up to the majors, his first time on the mound at Camden Yards, and what he loved about living in Baltimore.]

It’s amazing how quickly this city changes from purple to orange. Nowhere is this more evident than FanFest, held just one week after the Ravens were ousted from playoff contention. On an unseasonably warm afternoon in January, more than 12,000 O’s fanatics filled the downtown Convention Center to get photographed with The Bird, wait in staggeringly long lines for autographs, and even get a chance to chat with one of their favorite players.

Around 4 p.m., there was an unmistakable buzz surrounding the main stage. A safe assumption would be that it’s one of the veterans up there—maybe Nick Markakis or Brian Roberts—waxing poetic about his years on the team. But once you get past some of the standing-room-only crowd, it’s quite the opposite: five baby-faced newcomers.

“This is the largest crowd we’ve had here all day,” says emcee Jim Hunter. The crowd laughs, but there’s something serious going on here.

These five players—Brad Bergesen, Matt Wieters, Nolan Reimold, Brian Matusz, and Chris Tillman—showed so much promise during their rookie 2009 season that Orioles fans are banking on them. To Orange-and-Black Nation, these five represent no less than the very future of the team.

“There is no question of the talent these young guys have,” says Orioles pitching coach Rick Kranitz. “If you’re looking at championships down the line—and that’s why you play the game—that’s what these guys can bring.”

For a team that has had (gulp) 12 consecutive losing seasons, even hearing the word championship can inspire much-needed hope. Each player came up through the Orioles minor leagues and ended up with impressive numbers last year: Bergesen notched 65 strikeouts in 19 games, Wieters drove in 43 runs, Reimold hit 15 home runs, Matusz won five out of seven starts, and Tillman (the youngest, at just 21 years old last season) struck out 39.

But baseball stats aside, there is something intangible that all five of these players bring to the Orioles clubhouse—an enthusiasm and energy only seen in rookies, the kind of energy that could propel a team to victory.

“You need that breath of fresh air, to see their eyes wide open when they walk onto the field,” says second baseman, and nine-year veteran, Brian Roberts. “It keeps it in perspective and makes you realize that our future is very, very bright.”

“You need that breath of fresh air, to see their eyes wide open when they walk onto the field. It keeps it in perspective and makes you realize that our future is very, very bright.” —Brian Roberts

LIKE MANY FUTURE MAJOR-LEAGUERS, most of the O’s newcomers grew up loving the game of baseball. Bergesen, now 24, remembers spending many summer days in his hometown of Fairfield, CA, trading baseball cards with friends. Twenty-six-year-old outfielder Reimold started out playing shortstop in Little League in Greenville, PA. Catcher Wieters, 23, spent every night he can remember sitting in front of the TV with his dad in Goose Creek, SC, watching their beloved Atlanta Braves. And Matusz, 23, says he feels lucky that his childhood passion turned into a pitching scholarship at University of San Diego.

Only Tillman, now 22, says he wasn’t that into baseball as a kid growing up in Anaheim, CA. “I know it sounds weird, but I grew up by the beach and just wanted to surf,” he says. “I didn’t even get into pitching until my first couple years of high school.”

But, one way or another, they all made it to the big leagues. All baseball players remember what it’s like getting called up to the majors, whether the news is delivered on the bus to a game or actually on the field. Matusz admits he had to hold back some tears when he got the call.

“I had just pitched a shutout inning in Double-A in New Britain,” he says. “The manager pulled me to the side and said, ‘That’s it.’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ and he said, ‘You’re pitching in Detroit in three days.’ I remember I couldn’t stop shaking and I called my dad right away.”

A debut for any baseball player is a big deal. But, in Baltimore, there might be some added pressure because of how devoted the fans are to the players, even before they enter the majors.

“For as long as I can remember, the fans here have always had a huge interest in their farm system,” says Orioles president Andy MacPhail. “Partly because of the geographic proximity of these minor league teams, but partly because they’re just so invested in the future.”

This was certainly the case when the highly touted Wieters made his debut on May 29 to a sold-out stadium of fans and masses of media outlets in the clubhouse. There was a palpable excitement in the air. Heck, there was even a rainbow over Camden Yards.

“I was just thinking, ‘Don’t do something to embarrass yourself,’” Wieters recalls. “When you come up with that sort of hype, you want to hit a home run every time. But this game’s too tough for anyone to C5 do that, so you just have to go out there and play like you know you can.”

This philosophy worked for the catcher, as he finished his season strong, batting .362 and earning 14 RBIs in the month of September. Also playing in Wieters’s debut game was Bergesen, though he didn’t come up with that same level of expectation. Affectionately known as “Bergie” in the clubhouse, he made his debut earlier in the year and proved to be arguably the Orioles’s most dependable starting pitcher.

“I never looked at myself as an ace, that was always [Jeremy] Guthrie,” Bergesen says. “I just always wanted to work hard and go deep in games.”

He continued to do just that until a line drive hit him straight in the leg on July 30. Bergesen thought his shin was broken at first, ran off the field into the clubhouse, and collapsed when his leg gave out from under him. Though an MRI revealed no bone fracture, the injury ended his season.

While fans were heartbroken to see Bergesen go, it made way for Matusz, or “B-Matt,” to get on the mound. For his debut, 27 of Matusz’s closest friends and family filled the seats in Camden Yards. And they were not disappointed. He earned a win in that game and went on to win five more starts and strike out 38 batters. But, despite that success (or more accurately, because of it), the Orioles shut him down on Sept. 14 to preserve his arm for 2010.

“I felt healthy, so I didn’t want to stop throwing,” he says. “But I knew it was coming. They always told me right around 160 innings they would shut me down. At least I won my last three games and ended on a positive note.”

Matusz’s best friend on the team is fellow West Coast resident Tillman. They always sit next to each other in the dugout, and, when one player is out signing autographs, fans always ask where the other one is.

Tillman, whose teammates call him “Tilly,” was called up on July 29 last year and had a pretty streaky season. In one five-start span in August, he posted a more than respectable 3.34 ERA, but he only ended up winning two of his five starts.

“Last season was a lot about me getting the jitters out,” Tillman says. “I have to be more consistent and throw more strikes, and that comes  with maturity.”

The player that blew everyone’s expectations out of the water was outfielder Reimold. He quietly debuted on May 14 and ended up having a stellar season: He led American League rookies in home runs, on-base percentage, slugging percentage, and walks.

“I always expect big things from myself,” Reimold says. “I would have been surprised if I didn’t do that well.”

Unfortunately (and pretty impressively considering his accomplishments), Reimold was dealing with the pain of a frayed Achilles tendon for most of the season and was shut down in September to recover. Before his season got cut short, Reimold was a major contender for AL Rookie of the Year.

FOR YEARS NOW, THE ORIOLES ORGANIZATION has been encouraging fans to be patient: Yes, the team has floundered. Yes, it’s been a painful winning drought. But look to the farm system! That’s our future.

Last year, the future arrived en masse—the Orioles had a total of nine rookies on the roster.

“These guys were the final result of a blueprint planned out years ago,” says hitting coach Terry Crowley. “But to have that many come so soon was even more than we were expecting.”

The group already felt comfortable, as all five played together at some point, whether in Norfolk, Bowie, or the Arizona Fall League, which Orioles manager Dave Trembley says helped them from day one.

“They all automatically fit in very well in the clubhouse,” Trembley says. “They genuinely like each other, and you can tell because they’re always together.”

It’s not often that a team gets an influx of top-tier rookies all in the same season. From a player’s perspective, that camaraderie made adjusting to the majors a lot easier.

“It was great when I came up because the rookies were able to give me advice about what they just went through,” Wieters says. “Plus, the veterans don’t pick on you as much when you start to outnumber them.”

Of course, the young players admit, there was some ritual hazing, some expected (like an Adam Jones pie to the face after an accomplishment) and some pretty unexpected (like being forced to answer very personal questions over a microphone in the front of the entire team bus). “With rookies around, the clubhouse gets a little bit sillier,” Crowley admits.

The large group of young guys also serves to remind the older players what a privilege it is to play this game at the highest level. And all five first-year players admit they had plenty of goose-bump moments in 2009.

“You can’t get much better than hitting your first major-league home run off of a Hall-of-Famer in Yankee Stadium,” says Reimold of his May 20 rocket off Mariano Rivera.

The other players, not surprisingly, count their experiences playing against the Yankees as some of their most awestruck. Bergesen remembers it really got to him when he walked out to the bus with Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez one day.

“I didn’t think it was going to hit me that hard,” he says. “But to realize you’re on the same playing field as these guys is crazy.”

Likewise, growing up in Colorado, Matusz’s favorite player was the Diamondbacks’s Mark Grace. Grace, now retired and doing color commentary, called a game last season when Matusz pitched against the Rangers.

“I brought my Mark Grace jersey up to the radio booth before the game,” Matusz says. “We talked for half-an-hour and it was pretty special. I ended up winning that game, too.”

Through it all, the five young players were able to form a strong bond. During the season, they all lived in Canton, and some hung out at the ESPN Zone or ate crabs during downtime. Bergesen, who’s been married for about a year, and Reimold, the mellowest of the five, say they preferred to hang at home. But they all adopted a strong appreciation for Baltimore.

“I love it here. There’s a different lifestyle living in a city,” Matusz says. “Each neighborhood has its own character and you can see how much people really love their city.”

Two of them were already familiar with area: Bergesen’s wife grew up in Catonsville, and Wieters’s sister lives downtown. But some guys admit that they were a bit nervous coming to a town that wasn’t exactly known for racking up baseball pennants.

“You know, just looking at the Orioles record, I wasn’t sure how the fans were going to be,” Tillman says. “But Baltimore has some of the most supportive and loyal fans in the league.”

“The rookies gave me advice about what they just  went through. Plus, the veterans don’t pick on you as much when you start to outnumber them.” —Matt Wieters

AND NOW, ALL EYES ARE ON 2010. The rookie season was surreal and amazing and it flew by all too quickly. But now these guys won’t be sneaking up on anybody. And there’s a reason why the phrase “sophomore slump” exists.

“These kids are going to have to learn when the league starts adjusting to them,” MacPhail says. “Our job in the off-season was to get veteran players around them to prepare them even further.”

The Orioles president was probably referring to acquisitions like 13-year veterans Miguel Tejada and Kevin Millwood. Tejada, a former O’s shortstop, will move to third base and boost the core of veteran players. Young pitchers are already excited to learn from longtime hurler Millwood, who comes to Baltimore from the Texas Rangers.

Also important for the rooks is recovering from nagging 2009 injuries. Bergesen says that his shin feels back to normal. (Ironically, the pitcher strained his shoulder while shooting a TV commercial in December and had to sit out some of spring training.)

Following the end of last season, Reimold had surgery on his Achilles tendon and was doing rehab well into the winter. “I’m feeling good now,” Reimold says with the understated confidence that characterizes most of his answers. The outfielder is almost abnormally relaxed and composed in an interview, much like his attitude at the plate. Nothing seems to faze him.

“Nolan has a blue collar approach to the game,” Trembley says. “He has a keen eye and can hit home runs to all fields. He’s improving his outfield play, and left field should be his position in the coming years.”

Then there’s Wieters, the guy with the most fanfare. He’s tall at 6’5” and carries himself like he’s been in the majors for years—probably because of all the extra media attention. Crowley calls the pressure on the catcher “unfair,” but says he’s handled himself well despite it.

“Wieters will be the Orioles catcher, and a good one, for the next decade or longer,” Trembley says. “He’s got a big upside, hits for average and power, and doesn’t get rattled.”

As for the future of our pitching staff, a tumultuous subject throughout Orioles history? Well, there’s hope there, too. Once a few kinks are worked out, Kranitz believes the team will have a successful starting rotation.

“Bergesen relies on the ability to get a ground ball, which is huge. Ground balls can’t go over the fence,” he says. “Matusz is a total four-pitch package—and all of them have quality. Tillman is the baby of the group, but I can envision him in the next couple of years being an absolute jaw-dropper.”

If all of this sounds like it falls under the category of typical April optimism, that’s because it does. Every spring, as flowers bloom and temperatures climb, Orioles fans all around the city start feeling a sense of expectation, usually crushed by the time the All-Star break rolls around. But something, genuinely, feels a little bit different this season. Maybe that infectious rookie enthusiasm that Roberts was talking about has rubbed off, but 2010 just feels like the year the team can finally make some noise. Or at least get over the .500 hump.

“A couple years ago, it was frustrating to think of this as a rebuilding process,” Roberts says. “But I don’t think of it like that anymore. I don’t feel like we’re as much rebuilding as we are preparing to win.” Soon, maybe fans will still be wearing orange in October.”

My children are teenagers, which means our time together as a family seems increasingly precious to the adults and increasingly annoying to the kids. Skiing is one of the few activities I can suggest that doesn’t get adolescent eye rolls. We talk and laugh as we ride the lifts together, dare each other to try the toughest slopes, and enjoy the tired, cozy après-ski pleasures of sipping hot cocoa, warming ourselves beside wood-burning fireplaces, and, of course, bragging.

Below are 12 of the best ski resorts within a day’s drive of Baltimore, listed in alphabetical order. Most offer tubing, night skiing, terrain parks, snow making, lessons, equipment rental, evening entertainment, on-site restaurants, and much more. For brevity, only adult full-day lift ticket prices are listed. Holiday rates include vacation weeks and weekends. Restaurants and amenities are representative, not inclusive. Now, go ski!

Blue Knob Resort

1424 Overland Pass, Claysburg, PA, 800-458-3403,

Overview: The highest ski mountain in Pennsylvania offers furnished condos with fireplaces and kitchens.

Ski area: With a vertical drop of 1,072 feet and an elevation of 3,174 feet, Blue Knob divides its 34 trails into beginner, intermediate, advanced intermediate, and expert. Five lifts take skiers and boarders to 100 ski-able acres, including glade runs and a terrain park.

Hours: M-W: 10 a.m. – 7 p.m.; Th: 10 a.m. – 9 p.m.; Fr: 10 a.m. – 10 p.m.; Sat: 9 a.m. – 10 p.m.; Sun: 9 a.m. – 8 p.m. 

Cost: A five-hour flex pass is $30 Sun.-Fri., $50 Fri. at 4 p.m. to Sun. at 2 p.m.

Other amenities: Indoor/outdoor pool, hot tubs, and saunas for guests who stay in the condos, ski school, equipment rental, snow tubing, cross-country skiing, Black Bear Inn, and Clubhouse Bar & Grill.

Driving distance: Three hours, 15 minutes.

Canaan Valley Resort

230 Main Lodge Rd., Davis, WV, 800-622-4121

Overview: With an average of 180 inches of natural snow a year, this is the place to ski, snowboard, ice skate, tube, or try air boarding on an inflatable sled that can be controlled for turns and stops.

Ski area: It has an elevation of 4,280 feet with a vertical drop of 850 feet, 42 trails, three chairlifts, two magic carpets that take tubers to the top of the hill, nightly grooming, and snow making on more than 75 percent of the mountain.

Hours: 9 a.m.-4:30 p.m. daily

Cost: Full-day lift tickets, $65 midweek and non-holidays, $80 weekends and holidays.

Other amenities: Arcade, gift shops, indoor heated pool, whirlpool spa, fitness center, massage services, drop-off child care, sleigh rides, tubing, lessons, and equipment rentals.

Driving distance: Four hours.

Liberty Mountain Resort

78 Country Club Trail, Carroll Valley, PA, 717-642-8282

Overview: Deals and packages, particularly for new skiers and boarders, plus an easy walk from the hotel to the slopes makes Liberty a great getaway.

Ski area: Elevation is 1,190 feet high with a vertical drop of 600 feet and 100 acres of ski-able terrain. It has 16 trails and three terrain parks, serviced by nine lifts, with complete snow-making coverage.

Hours: M – W: 9 a.m.-8 p.m.; Th & Fri: 9 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sat: 8 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sun: 8 a.m.-8 p.m; Snow tubing is Th & Fri: 4 p.m.-10 p.m.; Sat & Sun: 12 p.m.-8 p.m.

Cost: $76+ midweek; $84+ weekends

Other amenities: Tubing, lessons, equipment rental, child-care center, and restaurants and bars. An exercise room, wireless Internet, and a hot breakfast buffet are included with hotel rates.

Driving distance: One hour, 24 minutes.

Massanutten Resort

1822 Resort Dr., Massanutten, VA, 540-289-9441.

Overview: There are so many activities and events at the Shenandoah Valley resort, that they have an Entertainment Guide to help you plan your time. The Pirates Program at the Kids’ Club is a popular activity for the little ones.

Ski area: It has a 2,925-foot summit with a vertical drop of 1,110 feet, 70 ski-able acres, two terrain parks, seven lifts, 14 trails, and 100 percent snow-making coverage.

Hours: Fri-Weds: 9 a.m.-9 p.m.; Tu-Th: 9 a.m.-5 p.m.

Cost: Lift-ticket prices had not been determined at press time.

Other amenities: Indoor water park, ski and snowboard lessons, equipment rental, tubing, outdoor ice skating, zip line (weather dependent), gift shops and boutiques, restaurants and cafeterias, and child care.

Driving distance: Three hours, 10 minutes.

The Omni Homestead

7696 Sam Snead Hwy., Hot Springs, VA, 800-838-1766.

Overview: The ski mountain is really just another amenity of the ritzy, historic hotel on the property.

Ski area: Forty-five acres of wide, well-groomed trails define this five-lift, six-trail mountain, with an elevation of 3,100 feet and a vertical drop of 700 feet.

Hours: 10 a.m.-5 p.m. weekdays, 9 a.m.-6 p.m. weekends and holidays.

Cost: Lift tickets are $39 on weekdays, $49 on weekends, and $59 on holidays. Resort guests pay $35 on weekdays, $45 on weekends, $55 on holidays.

Other amenities: Ski school, ice-skating rink, an indoor pool fed by warm mineral springs, gift shops, dress-up dinners, a salon, and exercise sessions with personal trainers. You get the idea.

Driving distance: Five hours.

Roundtop Mountain Resort

925 Roundtop Rd., Lewisberry, PA, 717-432-9631.

Overview: Roundtop is an excellent choice for beginner skiers and snowboarders.

Ski area: Ten lifts take downhill enthusiasts to 16 trails, plus a terrain park with a super pipe and half pipe. Elevation is 1,400 feet with a vertical drop of 600 feet and about 103 ski-able acres.

Hours: Mon-Tues: 9 a.m.-6 p.m.; Weds.-Fri: 9 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sat-Sun: 8 a.m.-9 p.m.

Cost: An eight-hour lift ticket is $72+ midweek and non-holidays, $79 on weekends and holidays.

Other amenities: Fireside Pub and Grill, sports shop, ski and snowboard schools, and tubing.

Driving distance: One hour, 30 minutes.

Seven Springs Mountain Resort

777 Waterwheel Dr., Seven Springs, PA, 800-452-2223.

Overview: The resort is a kid-friendly, year-round entertainment center, where even non-skiers will find plenty to do.

Ski area: The mountain, at 2,994 feet, has a vertical drop of 750 feet and 285 acres of ski-able terrain, including through-the-trees glade runs and eight terrain parks. Ten chairlifts and a rope tow take skiers and snowboarders to 33 trails.

Hours: Sun – Weds: 9 a.m.-7 p.m.; Thurs-Sat and holidays 9 a.m.-9 p.m.

Cost: Midweek all day: $74; Fri-Sun all-day: $95; Holidays all day: $98

Other amenities: Snowshoe and snowmobile tours, tubing, indoor miniature golf, indoor bowling alley, game room, roller-skating rink, late-night snowcat tours with the slope groomers, indoor-outdoor pool, fitness center, hot tubs, and 11 dining options. A sporting clays course is open year-round, weather permitting.

Driving distance: Three hours, 30 minutes.

Snowshoe Mountain Ski Resort

10 Snowshoe Dr., Snowshoe, WV, 304-572-5909.

Overview: Snowshoe is the choice for serious skiers with some of the most challenging slopes in the region.

Ski area: With 57 trails, 251 ski-able acres, an elevation of 4,848 feet and a vertical drop of 1,500 feet, Snowshoe is one of the larger ski mountains in the area. It’s divided into three areas: the Snowshoe Basin, Silver Creek, and Western Territory, with options that include glades skiing and terrain parks, all with 100 percent snow-making coverage.

Hours: 9 a.m.-4:30 p.m., Snowshoe; 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Silver Creek; M-Th: 12-9 p.m., Fri – Sun: 9 a.m.-9 p.m.

Cost: $70+ midweek, $100+ weekends, and $89 on holidays.

Other amenities: Off-road adventure tours, tubing, snowmobile tours, snowcat tours, an indoor playground with arcade games, a climbing wall, hot tubs, an indoor/outdoor pool, restaurants and food courts, lessons, and equipment rental.

Driving distance: Five hours, 15 minutes.

Timberline Four Seasons Resort

254 Four Seasons Dr., Davis, WV, 304-403-2074.

Overview: Its claim to fame is its high elevation, which makes it a snow magnet, averaging 200 feet or more a year. The Slopeside Hotel, as you can guess from the name, is within feet of the main lift.

Ski area: It has an elevation of 4,268 feet with a vertical drop of 1,000 feet, four lifts, 37 trails, 100 ski-able acres, and 100 percent snow-making coverage. It also has the longest run in the South—the two-mile-long Salamander.

Hours: 9 a.m.-4:30 p.m. daily

Cost: An eight-hour lift ticket ranges between $55-85.

Other amenities: Lessons, equipment rental, Timbers Pub and Fireside Grille with live music and karaoke, cross-country ski trails, and snowshoeing.

Driving distance: Four hours.

Whitetail

13805 Blairs Valley Rd., Mercersburg, PA, 717-328-9400.

Overview: This sibling of Roundtop and Liberty is another family-friendly, low-hassle choice, particularly for newbies. Packages for first-timers include equipment rental, lift tickets, and lessons, all for under $100.

Ski area: Elevation is 1,800 feet with a vertical drop of 935 feet. Nine lifts take skiers and boarders to 23 trails and two terrain parks, with 100 percent snow-making coverage.

Hours: Mon-Weds: 9 a.m.-5 p.m.; Thurs-Sun: 9 a.m.-9 p.m.

Cost: Eight-hour lift ticket is $76+ midweek

Other amenities: Tubing, child care, ski and snowboard lessons, food court, slope-side Windows Restaurant, and adaptive snow-sports program for children and adults with mental and physical challenges.

Driving distance: Two hours.

Wintergreen Resort

Rte. 664, Wintergreen, VA, 855-699-1858

Overview: Luxury and outdoor adventure live side by side at the resort, where days of challenging skiing are followed by evenings of spa treatments and excellent food.

Ski area: Elevation is 3,515 feet with a vertical drop of 1,003 feet, and 129 ski-able acres. Five chairlifts bring skiers and snowboarders to 26 runs, plus two terrain parks that are continually reshaped for new challenges.

Hours: Sun-Wed: 9 a.m.-5 p.m.; Th-Sat: 9 a.m.-9 p.m.

Cost: Eight-hour lift tickets, $79 midweek; $99 on Fridays, Sundays and non-peak Saturdays; and $109 on Saturdays and holidays

Other amenities: Two snow-tubing parks, ice-skating, a winter zip line, pool and fitness center with year-round outdoor hot tubs and a therapeutic soak pool; Pilates and yoga classes; and Ridgely’s Fun Park, where children younger than 11 can enjoy snow shoes, a gentle tubing slope, and hot chocolate.

Driving distance: Three hours, 49 minutes.

Wisp Resort

296 Marsh Hill Rd., McHenry, MD. 800-462-9477

Overview: Maryland’s only ski resort is

in a town that is home to Deep Creek Lake and year-round outdoor activities. Stay at the Wisp Resort Hotel or rent a townhouse or condo.

Ski area: Wisp is 3,115 feet at its highest point with a vertical drop of 700 feet and 132 ski-able acres. Seven chairlifts and five surface lifts take skiers and snowboarders to 32 beginner, intermediate, and advanced trails and four freestyle parks.

Hours: 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Sun.-Thurs., 9 a.m.-9 p.m. Fri.-Sat. “First tracks,” for multi-day and season ticket holders, begins at 8 a.m.

Cost: $79 weekdays, $89 weekends and holidays.

Other amenities: Tubing, outdoor ice skating, canopy tour with five zip lines (limited winter operation), cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, a “mountain coaster,” and snowmobile tours.

Driving distance: About three hours, 30 minutes.

Additional fact checking by Reines Maliksi.

For the first time in more than 25 years, Oriole Park at Camden Yards is hosting a concert at the iconic stadium. And, luckily for us, the Os booked one of the few acts worthy of such a momentous occasion—the Piano Man.

In honor of Billy Joel’s return to Baltimore for the July 26 concert, we devised a few (maybe unrealistic) ways that Charm City should roll out the red carpet for one of the best-selling performers of all time.

We’re not going to lie: Pulling up to the Sagamore Pendry Baltimore and seeing the beautiful people step out of Maseratis and Porsches at the valet station can feel a touch, well, intimidating. But if you walk past the hotel’s luxe lobby and stylish whiskey bar, then through the airy courtyard built on historic Recreation Pier, there’s a welcoming space for all: the pool bar.

Many locals don’t realize that the swanky patio at the Pendry is open to non-guests from Memorial Day Weekend through October 4, though the actual pool is off-limits. The main attraction is a shipping-container-turned-bar that cranks out a menu of tropical and frozen drinks and equally delicious snacks.

While the prices skew more upscale ($13 cocktails, $12-15 wine, $7 beer), the drinks pack a punch and the views—both of the harbor and ample people watching—can’t be beat. There are a number of seating options: Grab a stool at the marble-topped bar, waterside two-tops, or cushy couches to make believe you’re on vacation.

Pendry bar manager Kat Webster assembled a fun menu for the season, adding the playfully named Tropic Like It’s Hot, a mix of Casamigos Reposado Tequila, crème de banana liqueur, lime, and coconut that’s an earthy take on a piña colada. When in a Kevin Plank-owned property, one must try something with his locally distilled rye whiskey, so we indulged in the Sagamore Crush. Though not made with signature crushed ice, we loved the use of blood orange juice as opposed to the more acidic orange or bitter grapefruit. And the picturesque flower garnish was a nice touch.

Thanks to newly appointed Rec Pier Chop House chef Robert McGrattan, an Asheville native who is eager to show off Maryland seafood, the menu at this pool is much more elevated than snack-shack fare. Don’t miss the flavorful and chipotle-laced Thames Street Tacos with tequila-marinated rockfish, charred pineapple slaw, and cotija cheese. For something a bit lighter, try the tuna poke with spicy aioli, which is served with some of the best house-made, Old Bay-dusted chips we’ve ever had. (Sorry, Utz.)

And the fun doesn’t end there. This summer, the outdoor pool will feature Champagne spritzers on Mondays, live music every Thursday, and end the week with tableside oyster-shucking on Fridays. But, if the sun’s out, anyone can enjoy the perks of hanging at the Pendry without the hefty price tag.

This is a story of a stomach bug, a house fire, and a couple of guinea pigs.

It was 2017, an unbearably hot August day, and homeowner Julie Phillips was having work done on her Roland Park home. The rubber roof had been leaking, and a crew—recommended by a friend—was there replacing it. Her daughter Chloe, 7 at the time, had a bad stomach bug, and the two escaped the noise of the work for a nearby friend’s house and pool. Her 4-year-old daughter, Ruby, was off with other friends. That’s when Phillips’ phone suddenly began vibrating with smoke notifications from her alarm company. She called the roofer to make sure everything was okay. He was off-site, and his truck had broken down. “Let me call my guys,” he told her.

Phillips, a counselor at Loyola University, was less than a mile away from home and getting in her car when the alarm company’s central monitoring called to say 911 had been dispatched. “I rounded the corner with Chloe, and there were three fire trucks in the front of the house and smoke billowing out of our third-floor window,” remembers Phillips. She was in shock. The firemen had already broken in through the side door and the left side of the house appeared to be engulfed. Julie suddenly remembered the guinea pigs that belonged to her girls. A firefighter successfully retrieved the cage but accidentally dropped it as he came outside, allowing its inhabitants, Sugar and Cream, to make their break for freedom. Chloe, shivering and feverish in the neighbor’s yard, watched her house burn and her mom run after the guinea pigs. (Both were caught and returned to the safety of their cage.)

After that, Phillips called her husband, David, vice provost for admissions and financial aid at The Johns Hopkins University. “I said, ‘The house is on fire. Please come home.’ And then I guess I just hung up,” she says. It was 3 p.m.

The next few hours were pretty terrible. “You’re in a state of shock,” says Phillips. What wasn’t destroyed by fire was damaged by water and smoke. It turned out the roofing company had been torch-sealing the roof, a standard but risky practice. A combination of a very hot day and 100-year old wood allowed a spark to quickly slither up and down the walls like a snake looking for prey. “Our neighbors said they saw them trying to put out the fire with water bottles.”

Insurance was called, and once the fire was out, Julie and David were led through the house by a firefighter. There was water everywhere. And there was the smell: It instantly burned their nostrils and eyes. From that point on, fire itself took on a new meaning: “We were in Wisconsin a week later for my cousin’s wedding,” recalls Phillips, “and my dad made a big bonfire. David and I were just like, ‘Oh, my god.’”

As the fire trucks pulled away, the restoration services showed up. “They are like ambulance chasers. Five companies trying to talk to you after your house was just destroyed,” she says. At the recommendation of their insurance company, they selected ServPro. “They came in and started suctioning the water. This was two hours after the fire and we already had a crew there, putting in fans and a generator. It’s pretty amazing how quickly people mobilize.” Phillips managed to pack up clothes for her, David, and the girls. She did 25 loads of laundry over the next several days. They stayed with friends while looking for temporary housing. Each day, Julie and David would return to the house and see what they could take out and salvage. Then insurance came in and inventoried everything that had been lost.

As luck would have it, a home had been sitting empty nearby and within walking distance of school and Julie’s work. It was for sale, but they reached out and pleaded their case for a rental. The owner told Phillips he had lived through a house fire when his kids were little and agreed to a year-long lease. “It was a godsend,” says Phillips. “I’m not a religious person, but the universe was absolutely on our side.” They moved in that weekend with a few items, but by Monday, both Julie and David had Chloe’s stomach bug.

Insurance had sent them a generous lump sum to buy temporary furniture, clothing, and bedding, but since Phillips couldn’t leave the house, a friend took her credit card, went to Target, and bought blankets, pillows, sheets, and towels. “And we were lucky the house had kitchen stuff. We had a place to stay. People brought us stuff, took the kids. But the logistics are just time-consuming.”

But then what? Phillips’ knee-jerk reaction was to sell the house. “I want nothing to do with it,” she thought. But she owed it to her family to at least go through the motions of a renovation. Part of the house would need to be completely rebuilt, so they needed an architect to design the space. But Julie and David also realized this was the time to renovate rooms they had been talking about upgrading since they bought the house five years earlier. Insurance would pay for the fire-damaged portions—including the living room and family room—while the Phillipses would pay for the kitchen and a new master bedroom. They hired Ziger/Snead Architects that fall, and they, in turn, recommended Smithouse Construction.

Work started that January—five months after the fire. Every Friday, they would meet in the dining room of the damaged house with a temporary table and a space heater. “It was breakfast with the Phillipses,” says Michael Westrate, a designer at Ziger/Snead. The weekly get-togethers meant they were able to make decisions quickly, but also to “check in on everyone’s mental health,” he says. That was as important as choosing the right fixture. “Julie was very distressed, as one might imagine,” says Doug Bothner, a partner at the architecture firm. The damage was beyond what just the eyes could see. The fire had crawled through the house and affected a lot of the house’s structure. The goal was twofold: Justifying the amount of work that needed to be done through their insurance company and “turning this tragedy and pain into a real opportunity for change,” says Bothner.

“David and I don’t know house design,” admits Phillips. “I knew nothing about what my style was.” Her research included following Instagram accounts of favorite designers. Her criteria: lots of white, family-friendly but chic, and comfortable. Before the fire, the home had been overrun with toys. “When we redesigned, I wanted our first floor to be an adult floor,” she says. The family room, tucked away in the back of the house, has a comfy sectional for watching movies and is now home to two happy guinea pigs. “Our living room is more formal now,” says Phillips. “We never used to hang out in there. And now it’s the place we really love to be.” But the kitchen is another new favorite place. The old kitchen had last been renovated in the ’50s, but now is fully transformed, the true heart of the home with an oversized island the family eats at every night, white cabinets, gold hardware, and open shelving.

They moved back into the house almost a year after the fire—in August 2018—and lived for an additional month with some construction as crews finished the work. And then, one day, there was silence. The workers were gone. And it felt good. And the “fire house” just felt like home again.

“The fact that they could come home and actually feel like they are home and feel safe—I think that’s a huge part of the process,” says Bothner. Mostly, says Phillips, the entire experience is like childbirth. “Looking back, you say, ‘It wasn’t so bad. It’s fine.’” She sighs, “We’re so happy to be back.”

We all know the importance of a good night’s sleep, but did you know that your morning ritual can affect your entire day? If your morning begins with a quick cup of coffee, yelling at TV news, and skipping breakfast, you’re not alone. We consulted with Tiffany Houchins from Woodberry Wellness and Diana Sugiuchi from Nourish Family Nutrition on strategies to kick off the day energized, productive, and happy.

Good timing. A peaceful morning begins with a full night’s sleep and a gentle wakeup call, says Houchins. She suggests exchanging the alarm clock for rising with natural sunlight or a sun lamp. You don’t need to wake up before the sun to be more productive, but do allow yourself enough time to accomplish your morning tasks to alleviate the pressures of a morning rush.

But first, water. Start your day with a tall glass of water. After a long night’s rest, your body wakes up already craving hydration, Sugiuchi says. Not only will you mitigate any ill effects of dehydration later, but you’ll also feel refreshed and energized before your day is in full swing. She recommends adding cucumber, mint, or lemon to your water for a change in flavor and further nutritional value.

Me time. Take it easy and enjoy yourself! Engaging with things that bring you joy sets your intention and your mood for the rest of the day, Houchins explains. Get groovy to your favorite songs in the morning to add an extra boost of joy, or reserve an additional 10 minutes of your routine to set positive intentions for your day or take a solo walk in the fresh summer air.

Refuel and restore. It’s less about a big breakfast and more about the right breakfast, Sugiuchi says. Starting your day with a balanced breakfast regulates blood sugar levels, improves concentration, and keeps a steady metabolism that will satisfy your appetite and prevent later cravings. The key for morning energy? Complex carbohydrates. She suggests a bowl of oatmeal, hard-boiled eggs with a cup of fruit, or even a peanut butter sandwich on whole grain bread.

Up and at ‘em. Whether you take five minutes to walk the dog or catch a 45-minute yoga class, moving your muscles in the early part of your day stimulates blood flow and oxygen distribution that will give you a natural energy kick. Getting outside is a great way to feel less burnt out, Houchins notes. Morning jogs are also a manageable way to wake your body up while balancing the mind with the focus on breathing.

Plan your day. A little spontaneity can keep a routine fresh, but be honest and mindful of your limits, Houchins advises. Creating a to-do list in the morning is a helpful tactic to ensure a productive day. Avoid becoming overwhelmed by not overcommiting and sticking to the action items that will restore and bring you balance.

Like most big cities and their suburbs, Baltimore’s restaurant scene has been graced with staunchly traditional places that have resisted trends over the years. There’s Tio Pepe and The Prime Rib in the city, and The Oregon Grille in leafy Baltimore County.

Recently, we made our way to Hunt Valley to check in on this war horse of country dining. Upon arriving, we were swiftly shown to our table, greeted by our cheery server, and sat down just as the piano player settled into his bench. While waiting for our menus, we took in our surroundings, imbued with Maryland’s rich equestrian history. The leather tack, saddles, and prints of famous horses of yore combine with wood accents to lend an air of gentrified, traditional comfort. (We challenge you to find a trendy touch here.) A quick perusal of the cocktail menu revealed a program heavy on sugary drinks, few of which appealed as aperitifs. Oddly, a full wine list wasn’t initially provided, so our server politely granted our request for one.

Our meal got off to a promising start with oysters on the half shell. We appreciated the creative flourish of the yuzu cucumber mignonette. It lacked acid, but the flavors popped, and we happily polished them off, seaweed salad garnish and all. Next arrived foie gras that was perfectly seared, and here the pickled blackberries did have enough acid to balance the fat.

While waiting for our mains, we patrolled the wine list. Good thing we had something to do, because that wait lasted nearly 30 minutes. Europhiles are not likely to swoon, as the USA sections of the list are the most dominant, if pricey. Our server came over to apologize for the wait and assured us our mains were on the way. Was it worth the wait? A Berkshire Pork Porterhouse was just right. It was lustily salted and coated in a heady bourbon pan gravy. The chop was paired with sweet potatoes and Brussels sprouts, a safe combination. The Cut of the Day, a boneless Prime Rib Eye, was rubbed with whiskey barrel-aged Shozu, another spark of creativity that we enjoyed. But at $65, it was overpriced. We should have stuck with something off the regular selection of prime cuts.

Moving to dessert, the Key Lime pie was classic—it balanced sweet and tang, with a firm crust and house-made whipped cream. The night’s dessert special was less successful: a moon pie of Chambord-infused mascarpone that had no detectable Chambord and was entombed in a faintly flavored chocolate shell so hard we were unable to crack it initially. We wished for a second slice of that succulent pie!

Familiar flavors, traditional surroundings, and deferential service define The Oregon Grille, and “comfort food for carnivores” best sums up our experience. It’s the perfect upscale, date-night destination for anyone averse to global cuisine, intimidating ingredients, or fly-by-night trends.

THE OREGON GRILLE 1201 Shawan Rd., Hunt Valley, 410-771-0505. HOURS: Sun. 11 a.m.-11 p.m.; Mon.-Sat. 11:30 a.m.-midnight. PRICES: Appetizers: $11-22; steaks, chops, lobsters: $38-market prices: entrees: $30-market price. AMBIANCE: Horse-country chic.

After years of participating in local bikepacking trips, Danielle Parnes and Kimberly Wiman were fed up with the male-dominated rides—which felt more competitive than welcoming—and started searching for ways to create more inclusion within the region’s bikepacking scene.

Once they learned how groups in other cities organize trips for bicycle adventurers who identify as women, transgender, femme, and non-binary during the WTF Bikexplorers Summit and Ride Series last August, they looked to build a similar community in Baltimore. “It was very powerful to see that riding bikes, having fun, and getting to know each other on a personal level could bring such a wide range of people together,” says Parnes.

The two now co-lead WTF Mid-Atlantic Bikepacking, a group that encourages local women and trans, femme, and non-binary people to strap camping gear—including tents, food, and water—to their bikes and ride together to a campsite destination. Since forming the group in October, Parnes and Wiman have hosted four trips, including rides along the C&O Canal and through Michaux State Forest, as well as an introductory workshop at Baltimore Bicycle Works.

Along with making the excursions free and accessible to those without cars, the pair also prioritizes creating an open dialogue so that bikepackers of all experience levels feel comfortable asking questions and traveling with the group. “Some people feel like they need to have a ton of knowledge or experience before they start riding—that’s a big barrier in WTF groups,” says Wiman. “When in reality, we can support and teach each other a lot.”

Above all else, Parnes and Wiman strive to empower fellow bikepackers by creating a space for them to create relationships based on honesty and a love for the outdoors. “Bikepacking is really difficult,
and oftentimes on non-WTF rides, there’s not much acknowledgment of how physically and mentally tough it is,” says Wiman. “That vulnerability of feeling able to ask for help allows for a much deeper bond to form between people who go on a trip together.”

White is the definition of relaxation. Laid-back and luxurious, a white-on-white outfit brings the effortless into the chic. Whether in seaside linen or city street denim, a summer wardrobe won’t be complete without those essential whites.

There was a moment in our meal at Flamant when, suddenly, everything made sense. It came after several starters. The herb-crusted potato cakes looked so much like scallops—did we actually order these, we asked? And then there were the Maryland Blue crab rolls. We knew we had ordered those, but as we consulted the menu, we wondered, what was that unexpected floral flavor? Oh, it was a splash of gin mixed with Old Bay and ketchup in the dipping sauce.

Despite our ongoing confusion, clarity came just as our server put down a plate of what was listed as “Peas-Shrimp” on the menu, which he’d described as “salad,” but, in reality, looked nothing like any greens we’d seen. “You’re never going to get what you expect here,” our server explained. Strangely, this helped clear up the confusion.

Indeed, this “salad,” an edible homage to spring, featured a custard-like pea jelly (peas mixed with gelatin) ringed by pickled shrimp, whole snap peas, red shiso micro greens, and a warm, still-runny poached egg, which lent a silken texture. It was beautiful and delicious, which is pretty much all you need to know.

Everything about Flamant (the French word for “flaming,” a nod to the fireplace in one of the dramatic dining rooms), situated along West Annapolis Street in a quaint, 65-seat cedar bungalow, takes you by surprise, including the structure itself. The restaurant is not what you might expect in this suburban stretch of Anne Arundel County, where chains and nautically themed restaurants rule. On the site of a former children’s clothing store, Flamant has been transformed into a stylish dining den, with its sculptural mid-century Cherner chairs, black flatware, light woods, blue Spanish floor tiles, and airy, light-filled rooms.

Owner-chef Frederik De Pue hails from Flanders, Belgium, and honed his culinary craft working with Michelin-starred chefs including Alain Ducasse in Monte Carlo and Alain Chapel in Lyon, France. After coming stateside, he owned several restaurants in D.C., then opened this seasonally driven, chef-forward spot in the spring of 2017.

The peas-shrimp starter; the dining room. -Kate Grewal

The dinner menu, with ingredients sourced from local farms and fishermen, is concise (a sure sign that all ingredients are up-to-the-minute fresh—pulled from the sea and just arrived from field and farm), with six mains and about the same number of shareable snacks and starters. De Pue’s dishes—innovative, flavorful, even celestial—are unlike anything you’ll find on other area menus.

“Good food is the foundation of genuine happiness,” the top of the menu reads. When you’re quoting the father of modern French cooking, Auguste Escoffier, the bar is automatically set high.

Fortunately, De Pue delivers.

Flamant features classic, but edgy, European fare. His presentations are always artistic, which is not surprising given that De Pue draws his dishes on paper when he is developing recipes to help him visualize not only what’s on the plate, but what flavors his combinations will yield.

Among the appetizers, something that might appear as charcuterie or a cheese plate on any other menu is listed as ricotta-feta custard here and turns up as crisp prosciutto “cups” served with a dollop of house-made ricotta and feta cheese and ripe cherry tomatoes exploding with flavor. A bowl of mussels swimming in white wine broth appears as if it rolled through a tangle of seaweed—actually threads of leeks and rosemary sprigs—on its way up the beach.

Entrees are equally appealing, both visually and from the standpoint of flavor. Among the most noteworthy on our visit was the luxurious riff on a burger. De Pue’s version is a slightly sweet duck confit patty blanketed by the pungent addition of orange-blue cheese sauce. A slice of green tomato and arugula add, respectively, tangy and nutty notes. As with most of the menu, no detail is missed. De Pue pan sears the potato bun with butter and then steams it, which helps all of the ingredients stick together, thus ensuring perfection in every bite. The tarragon chicken schnitzel—thinly sliced cutlets stuffed with capers, parsley, lemon zest, breadcrumbs, and almonds and paired with potatoes and mushroom mousseline—is a delightfully deconstructed take on a German classic.

Even if you don’t usually indulge, hold out for dessert. The turnover-shaped seasonal doughnuts, more like Belgian beignets, can count as a fruit serving here.

Ours were stuffed with local strawberries and rhubarb and accompanied by a dollop of house-made fromage blanc gelato, a satisfying way to end the meal. After cleaning the plate, we settled our check and headed out into the night, feeling fortified—genuinely happy, even. Somewhere, Escoffier is smiling.

FLAMANT 17 Annapolis St., 410-267-0274. HOURS: Tues.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m., 4:30 p.m.-10 p.m., Sat. 4:30 p.m.-10 p.m. PRICES: Snacks and appetizers: $9-20; mains: $20-35; desserts: $9-11. AMBIANCE: Cottage chic.

The artist known as Reed Bmore has to do a bit of mental gymnastics each time he introduces himself to someone new. The Hampden-based creator is responsible for the bootleg wire sculptures hanging from various telephone wires across Baltimore, and, for obvious reasons, prefers to remain anonymous. A quick Google search—or Caller ID display—reveals his actual name, but we’ll honor his request and stick with Reed Bmore for now.

A Maryland College Institute of Art alum, Bmore has been hanging wire sculptures—animals, video game characters, and Pokémon, among others—for about five years. He acknowledges that what he does could be considered vandalism, but he also points out that city officials only seem to mind when his subject matter is controversial. Chief among them: the sculpture that depicted Healthy Holly hogtied and horizontal during then-mayor Catherine Pugh’s final days in office. It took him about three hours to create and was removed from the intersection near Fayette and Gay Streets only a few hours later. “Worth it,” he says.

His desire for anonymity goes back to his youth as a graffiti artist, but he also wants his art to speak for itself. “In my eyes, wire sculpture is a very small part of who I am,” he says. “[Maintaining anonymity] gives me some leeway to express different avenues within myself.”

Bmore began creating his wire sculptures 10 years ago, but it was when he began hanging them around town and sharing his art on Reddit that things really took off. In the beginning, he was cranking out work at a high volume, eager to make his mark on Baltimore. But now that he has established some notoriety, he’s been able to slow that pace and only produce art that’s meaningful to him.

Still, anonymity remains the key. He wants to separate the street artist Reed Bmore from his life in the real world. But that presents an interesting paradox: Bmore runs a sculpture-focused Instagram account where followers can contact him for personalized work. He’s also planning to showcase some of his smaller pieces during an exhibit in August at Creative Labs in Hampden.

So how does he balance promoting himself while also maintaining his anonymity? He’s still working on that. “I build my artwork on bullshit and doing whatever I feel,” he says. “I just want to have fun and perpetuate lightheartedness and start conversation.”

“What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?”

-Inscription above the altar at St. Elizabeth of Hungary, Jim Cabezas’ boyhood church and school.

In 1971, Jim Cabezas’ rookie year walking a beat, there were 323 homicides in Baltimore. Twelve months later, a then-record 330. Heroin was sold openly, and he worked alongside more than a few, in his words, “brutal racists.” (Cabezas once threw his body on top of a black citizen getting savagely kicked by two officers, only to be told if he tried anything like that again he’d never receive backup.)

Less than two years on the job, Cabezas saw a grand jury return bribery indictments against six current and two former detectives. Indictments also came down against five lieutenants, six sergeants, and three patrolmen. Then former Governor Spiro Agnew resigned as vice president over extortion and other charges from his time in office in Maryland.

Recently, an older woman approached Cabezas, who just wrote his autobiography with former Sun reporter Joan Jacobson, and asked the former Baltimore cop and state political corruption investigator if he thought things had improved since be became a police officer. It should be noted: Cabezas spent three years working undercover as a taxi driver on The Block in the mid-’70s, and later, after losing his eyesight to a degenerative condition, oversaw the investigations that ended the tenures of former City Comptroller Jacqueline McLean, former Mayor Sheila Dixon, and former Anne Arundel County Executive John Leopold. “Probably the same,” the good-natured, matter-of-fact Cabezas told the woman. “Maybe worse,” he added, reflecting further.

The son of devout immigrants from Nicaragua and Chile, Cabezas grew up next to Patterson Park, attending St. Elizabeth of Hungary Catholic Church. His childhood was idyllic—baseball, football, and school—for a time. A near-fatal reaction to an antibiotic as a boy triggered a rare eye disease (which ultimately caused him to go blind in the middle of his career). Shortly afterward, he lost his mother to brain cancer. Then, as a cop, still only 22, his father—“my best friend”—was murdered.

Much of Cabezas’ 46-year career was spent in the chaotic Baltimore quadrant that includes The Block, City Hall, and police headquarters. Telling everyone he’d had enough and quit the department, in 1975, he actually went undercover for three years—posing as a taxi driver even to his future fiancée—and began frequenting The Block to determine if the Philadelphia mafia had infiltrated the prostitution, drug, gambling, and loan-sharking operations there. He also followed up on FBI concerns that the New York mob had infiltrated the docks and longshoreman’s union. Neither, he’d determine, had their hands in Charm City’s underworld. “Baltimore had a rep as a ‘rat town,’” he says. “Nobody kept an out-of-towner’s secrets, and it made the Philly and New York mobs nervous. Instead, it became a town where the mafia exiled people they didn’t kill.”

A chameleon with an unmistakable Highlandtown accent, he found corruption at each turn. “The culture on The Block is [drug] abuse and being abused, and it’s sad, but there is at least some honor among thieves. A few people look out for each other. With the police and with politicians, it’s just greed and hubris.”

After 15 eye surgeries, two well-timed minor miracles allowed Cabezas to maintain his near half-century pursuit of wrongdoers. The first was an offer to join the State Prosecutor’s office in the mid-’80s when his vision had deteriorated to where he couldn’t carry a gun. The second was new computer software for the blind that enabled him to stay on that job after a state doctor recommended his termination.

It’s a dreary, humid day on Hampden’s 36th Street, but the cheerful storefront of Milagro, which is adorned in mosaic detail and electric green paint, beckons passersby. “Milagro” means miracle in Spanish. In Latin American folk art, Milagros are metal prayer charms made to be carried as a way to ask the saints for a miracle. In Baltimore, Milagro, the globally inspired boutique, serves as a way to connect cultures, sharing the rich color and craftsmanship of global artisans.

After years spent traveling to Mexico and practicing various crafts, including textile and jewelry making, Kimry Perrone (pictured) had a desire to open a boutique selling folk art and jewelry from around the world. In 2004, she opened the doors to Milagro. Supporting fair trade was always an imperative. “I was already interested in the concept of fair trade, having dealt directly with artisans,” she says, “and I wanted to be able to be a part of supporting makers in a fair environment.”

Lately, fair trade and ethical shopping have become buzzwords. This demand led to an organic expansion for Milagro to include sustainably made clothing. “One of the benefits of fair trade products is that they’re handmade,” Perrone says. “There’s a quality there that you’re not going to find in fast fashion.” Buying less and buying smart is what ethical fashion is all about. It’s the belief that handmade clothing made of natural fibers will feel better, wear better, and last longer in your closet.

But one thing ethical fashion rarely is? Trendy. Perrone admits that it can be a challenge to bring in pieces that satisfy customers’ cravings for the latest styles and are also sustainable. However, the growth of fair trade gives her hope for the future. “As young fashion designers are coming up in this awareness of ethical fashion, there are more of these companies at trade shows now,” she says. “They’re working with women co-ops there to have their designs made, and those styles are current.”

In the meantime, she does have one way of choosing merchandise. “Some of it is just what I want to wear,” Perrone says, smiling.

Fake Like Me

Barbara Bourland (Grand Central Publishing)

Baltimore-based Barbara Bourland raises a magnifying glass to the contemporary art world in this compelling satire. A cast of familiar-yet-eccentric characters plays out multiple storylines—a bizarre mystery (why did the young and famous New York artist Carey Logan drown herself in a lake?), a love story (really, a few), an artist’s coming of age—but at its core, it’s a penetrating, insightful discourse into what it means to be a practicing artist navigating the cut-throat art world. It’s a must-read for art scholars and students, who will appreciate all the practical and existential questions the narrator faces—from taking on an impossible deadline after two years’ worth of paintings are lost in a studio fire, to pondering the gray area between being an artist and being a commodity. And your jaw will drop more than a few times throughout Bourland’s story, which is painted with rich imagery, exquisite details, and sensual delight.

Lady in the Lake

Laura Lippman (William Morrow)

In her latest, Laura Lippman turns back the clock to 1960s Baltimore, drawing inspiration from the city’s real-life “Lady in the Lake,” the body of a woman that was found in Druid Park Lake in 1969 and identified as Shirley Parker, an African-American barmaid. In Lippman’s fictional retelling of the eerie story, Cleo Sherwood, a bartender at the Flamingo club on Pennsylvania Avenue, goes missing on New Year’s Eve. No one seems to care except Maddie Schwartz, who recently separated from her husband and became a reporter for the Star, determined to solve this mystery by whatever means necessary. Scattered throughout the story are first-person perspectives of various characters who meet Maddie along the way. It’s perfect beach reading material—light and breezy and full of juicy gossip, set in historical Baltimore (think pre-
gentrification Inner Harbor and a buzzing Howard Street shopping district), with fun twists throughout.

DDm

Beautiful Gowns (self-released)

Over the past several years, DDm has been crowned an all-time hometown favorite, rising from the battle-rap circuit to beloved hip-hop duo Bond St. District to a star solo performer in his own right—the Beyoncé of Baltimore City. This solo debut serves as an introduction for the rest of the world, bottling the local rapper’s bravado, wit, humor, and heart into one original package full of big, bold, colorful beats. A year after his planned debut, Soundtrack To A Shopping Mall, was nixed, this new record reveals it was all worth the wait, capturing his artistic range through the mastery of both braggadocious bops and introspective ballads (as well as one vogue-inspiring, house-music stunner). “Now I’m living in my own vision, cooking in my own kitchen,” DDm declares in the first track, “Hooray.” With fresh confidence and creative energy, he is creating his own lane for success, looking forward by knowing where he comes from. Luckily, we think he’ll always remember this city when he takes over the globe.

Outer Spaces

Gazing Globe (Western Vinyl)

This new record from Baltimore band Outer Spaces is a slow-burning beauty. It sears like early summer. It rambles like a sunset drive. It aches like the early days of a fleeting crush, or flickers out like the end of a long one, hanging airy yet thick as a Maryland July. A follow-up to the band’s 2016 debut, these bittersweet indie-pop songs follow the temporary breakup of frontwoman Cara Beth Satalino and her both bandmate and longtime partner Chester Gwazda, who also appears on the album. Through listless vocals, persistent, drums, and a thick tangle of jangly guitar, she forges a new path, dreamily wandering between ennui and emotion to find herself again. For that, it’s deeply human and relatable. Though you never know for sure whose face she finds hiding in the sun in the first (and our favorite) track, by the end of the searing crescendo, you realize it might be her own.

What is Smalltimore Homes and how did it start?
I started investing in Baltimore real estate in 2014. I was fixing and flipping homes, and I was very intentional in selling to first-time homeowners, because, to be honest, I wanted those homeowners to look like me. Over time, it morphed from investing in the city and building up black homeowners to addressing people who are experiencing homelessness, which is something that impacts our community in a big way because two out of three people experiencing homelessness in Baltimore are black. So Smalltimore Homes was founded in February 2018 because I decided to start an affordable housing nonprofit and that would provide tiny homes outfitted with sleeping bags, clothes, and other supplies to people experiencing homelessness.

Why microshelters?
I think transitioning out of homelessness starts with having an address and a place to rest your head. Because how do you think about anything else if you don’t know where you’re going to sleep at night? I plan to partner with groups that provide things like job training and education to attack each piece of the issue so that someone can start by living in one of these microshelters, get the resources they need, and then work up to finding a room for rent and acclimate themselves back into life.

What kinds of challenges has Smalltimore Homes faced so far?
Because of their wheels and size, our first three microshelter models are not legal dwellings in Baltimore. But through volunteer builds, donations, and grants from the community, we’re able to continue improving the design and having conversations about how this will help homelessness in the city. Within the year, I’d like to create at least three microshelter communities with anywhere from two to five of the shelters for people to visit and experience. By the end of that year, I plan to acquire a piece of land to build the final, allowable model that people will be staying in.

How does Baltimore compare to other cities that have started micro-shelter communities?
We’re unique compared to other cities that have these kinds of shelters because we have blight and vacant buildings. I hope to partner with an organization that’s breaking down these vacant homes, take what’s salvageable, and use those materials to create new tiny dwellings.

What kind of feedback have you received from potential tenants?
One volunteer brought a homeless woman he knew to one of our monthly builds. I gave her some supplies and I asked her for her feedback on the homes. I asked her if she would sleep in one, and she said yes because, at the time, she was sleeping standing up in a corner of the Lyric every night. So I asked if she would stop if she had one of the microshelters as an option, and, if not, what would she change about it. All she suggested was bigger windows. And I was like, “I can do that! Someone give me a saw!”

What are your long-term goals for Smalltimore Homes?
In three to five years, I want to have a permanent plot of land with at least 15 tiny homes for people who were experiencing homelessness. I want it to be temporary housing for them, no more than three years, which will give them time to get back on their feet, save some money, and, hopefully, find a place of their own. On the plot of land, I’d love to implement a vertical garden that tenants can contribute to. If we could have a whole city block with no blight and full of microshelters and sustainable living for people experiencing homelessness, that would be bliss.

Why do you think this idea will work?
I think it’ll work in Baltimore as long as we can address blight as part of this initiative. A lot of people have said, “How can you start something like this when there’s so many abandoned buildings in the city?” But people can’t move into those places. That’s the thing that I recognize is unique about doing this project in Baltimore—we can address both issues at the same time. Overall, I think if we can contribute to this growing ecosystem of people and programs working to help people transition into society then this city will be a much better place.

Why did you choose to omit the protagonist’s name?
I never knew what her name was. It was never made apparent to me, by whatever process this is. The book is also a very, very light remake of Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier—sort of the classic trapped woman, psychological suspense novel. So my narrator doesn’t have a name, much like the narrator of Rebecca does not have a name. Her namelessness is meant to give you a sense of universality.

I was struck by how long it took me to realize you hadn’t included it.
Yeah. I had a fun time making that work.

There are so many layers to this book—multiple storylines, including a mystery, these great characters, social commentary and critique of the art world and feminism—what was the impetus of all of it?
I started writing this book as I was working the edits for my first book [I’ll Eat When I’m Dead], and I had the very uncomfortable experience of being turned into a commodity. I found it to be extremely unnerving. When you begin to talk about branding and marketing, I didn’t have an easy time with it. The book business has really changed drastically over the past 20 years: we have more books, we have more readers, but we also have such a different marketplace in terms of how readers learn about books. I think it was easier when you were Daphne Du Maurier, quite frankly, and you were touted as someone whose opinion was worth hearing because 2 percent of Americans had a college degree. It was simpler, if you were educated and you could write, to be branded as someone who we should be listening to, and I think that’s very difficult now. So it was a very tense experience and it made for the grounding of a novel that’s very tense. We’ve all made jokes about the development of the personal brand, but it really is a dehumanizing experience. How vulnerable you are to that depends on how confident you are as a person. I’m not very confident [laughs]. So that was the emotional state I was personally in when I started writing this book.

The detail with which you write about art making—and selling—is phenomenal. Are you an artist yourself, or did you just do a ton of research?
I’m a very amateur artist. I draw and paint, but it’s a non-commercial practice. My husband is an art historian. I tag along with him to studio visits a lot, and the studio is such a special place—I think it’s the reason most people are drawn to the art world to begin with. . . . We live in a built society. An artwork is built, and the economy of the art world is built. It’s a set of choices and collective decisions, and nowhere is that more apparent than in the art world because all of the artworks’ value is derived by their social impact, its greater resonance throughout the culture that you can measure. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle of notoriety or awareness that people have about artists and their work, which isn’t to say there isn’t also so much beauty available to us from art. Of course there is. But it is a mixture of both of those things. And the book is a mixture of both things.

You did an artist residency at The Wassaic Project. Did you specifically choose a fine arts residency so it could inform the book?
Yeah. I sent them the first two chapters, and also they’re in upstate New York [where the novel is set]. I told them I had a big edit coming in and would love to work on it there. I think what I was hoping for—and I think that I got it—was to absorb the timeframe. I make work, but again, I don’t make work to support myself in any way; I can go into the studio at any time. I wanted to get a sense of how long artists are grinding in their studios. At Wassaic, our studios are all adjacent to each other, so just hearing how people are moving around the space, how late they’re staying in the studio, how much back-breaking physical work there can be to make something that’s really big, or even to make something small that you have to throw away if you ruin it. I don’t think there was another way to get that sense of it. In the acknowledgments, I tried to list every artist whose studio I was in who I took something from, whether it was the handle of a brush or a habit with the gesso or whatever. There’s a lot of technical information.

Did you make a lot of changes while you were there? Were you surprised by anything you noticed when you were living with all those artists?
I’m not a particularly linear writer. Very infrequently do I feel like on the first draft I’ve landed it, whether it’s a paragraph or a page or whatever. So I was there making so many cuts to give it the temporal structure that puts the reader in a position where they don’t want to put it down. That push and pull and stress is all about a series of beats that you hope you’ll hit, but you don’t know that you’ll hit them until you have the raw material to edit down. Being in that place with these long stretches of nothing and work that are mixed with that summer camp feeling, where these are the only people that you see and the only people that you now know—that is a very unique circumstance. Absorbing everyone’s work rhythms helped me with the pacing of this book immeasurably. They also bring in museum curators and gallerists who go from studio to studio, so I put out seltzers, had my notepad, and when people visited, I said, “I want to ask you about your job.” Like, “Here are some ideas I want to get at in this book.” So I sort of flipped it.

Your other novel was also a satire and a mystery. Why are you drawn to that genre?
Here’s hoping that someday I will be talented enough to write a book where nothing happens and you are still compelled to turn the page, but I think that is a very rare skill. I believe in plot. I think that most books are actually mysteries: there’s always a problem. And I think that if you write about contemporary society, there is no way not to make it a satire because the society we live in is so incredibly absurd and changing so rapidly. I live on the East Coast, I’m college educated, I’m a Millennial. The jobs that my peers have taken as we’ve gotten older—it’s wild, what my friends do to make a living. We make our money across a very wide spectrum of professions. And there’s no way that that’s not funny. It’s like a joke: an engineer, a doctor, a lawyer, and a circus performer walk into a bar. What do they have in common? They’re best friends!

Or they’re all one person.
Or yeah, they’re one person! And again, maybe the reason being made into a commodity is an uncomfortable experience for me is because I don’t know how my work fits in. I think it’s not a singular thing. It’s a multiplicity of things. And young women writers are put in a tough position, I think.

How so?
Well, there’s the smiley, happy-go-lucky girl reporter with her lipstick and her cool clothes, and then there’s the disaffected young woman who doesn’t care about anything. And I’m neither of those things. I mean, we’re all struggling to brand ourselves in this world, and it’s hard to know how much energy to put into that. . . . We’re so conscious of our bodies and appearance. Good on you if you’ve managed to escape it; I personally have not in the slightest.

In the halcyon 1950s, Hutzler’s department store employed 1,500 sales, office, and Colonial tea room dining staff. “Probably 2,000 during the holidays,” says Michael Lisicky, author of Hutzler’s: Where Baltimore Shops. “You went downtown to shop, lunch, see a show, go back, and shop again,” he says. “Lexington and Howard was the busiest intersection in the state.”

In a twist of fate hardly fathomable when the 140-year-old family business shuttered in 1989, that corner, specifically the former luncheonette basement of the old Hutzler Brothers Palace, is now home to one of the busiest “intersections” in the world. An estimated 25 percent of global internet traffic—including half of the emails, Amazon orders, Netflix streams, and iPhone downloads in the U.S.—pass through the stacks of underground AiNET servers there.

Many Baltimoreans know the backstory: In 1858, 23-year-old Abram Hutzler convinced his father, Moses, a German-Jewish peddler, to sign for credit so he could open a dry-goods store, which eventually set a record among American department stores for tenure at its original location.

Fewer know the current story: Deepak Jain, son of Indian immigrant parents, launched AiNET—originally a web-hosting company whose revenues now surpass $100 million—in his parents’ basement while attending Glenelg High School. (When he was a restless 6-year-old in a rural community without a lot of children nearby to play with, his parents had gotten him a Texas Instruments TI-99/4A home computer to keep him occupied.) By 1994, while in theory a sophomore Johns Hopkins University pre-med student, Jain’s business was growing fast enough that he could pay his own tuition.

Since then, AiNET, which employs two dozen workers on site, has expanded into a data center, cloud storage, IT services, and cyber-security business. Clients include federal contractors Jain can’t mention, as well as tenants at his telecom hotel such as Comcast and Verizon. In 2014, Jain bought the five-story Hutzler Brothers Palace on Howard and the adjoining seven-story building on Lexington known as One Market Center—where the Hutzlers tried and failed to reinvent themselves in 1985.

One of Jain’s related missions is Future Cities, an effort to bridge Baltimore’s digital divide by building a free Wi-Fi network across the city. Meanwhile, change has been percolating on the outskirts of the long desolate block. The Everyman and Hippodrome theaters and Bromo Arts District have sparked activity. Historic Lexington Market is also due for a $30-million-plus redesign.

For his part, Lisicky would like to see more AiNET initiatives similar to its collaboration with The Contemporary art museum in 2017, which opened the Hutzler Brothers Palace’s renown Art Deco doorways to the public for the first time in nearly three decades. The irony that what was once such a social hub now channels our digital communication—even a local text or email sent via the internet inevitably bounces through AiNET servers—isn’t lost on Lisicky. “There’s still a heartbeat in that building. It’s just digital and buried.”

As far back as 1941, Albert Hutzler, then company president, saw the handwriting on the wall. Long before his beloved department store came to its end, he had alerted a city planning conference at Hopkins that urban blight, unchecked, would lead to falling downtown real-estate values and transform Baltimore into a “ring city” with a shrinking core surrounded by thriving suburbs.

He added that such flight is not so much a problem for a merchant. “They go to the outlying communities and go on to build there,” said Hutzler, who would build stores in Towson, Catonsville, Dundalk, Glen Burnie, Woodlawn, Bel Air, and White Marsh. “It is the city itself that goes to pieces.”

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” the man dressed like a conductor asks from just inside the front door of the Baltimore Streetcar Museum. He’s John La Costa, a 69-year-old, semi-retired electrical and systems engineer.

Since the mid-1970s, he and small group of volunteers have spent much of their free time here, keeping alive the history of Baltimoreans’ primary form of public transportation during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

Normally, La Costa would talk to visitors while riding aboard one of the museum’s dozen or so authentically restored vintage passenger vehicles. But today, he’s relegated to providing a tour of a few parked train cars inside a covered three-track wide garage as a result of a terribly ironic accident in March.

La Costa, the museum’s vice president of engineering, was on vacation in Germany when he received an email with the news that an empty, modern CSX freight train derailed from the curved line of working rail that spans the museum’s plot of land at 1911 Falls Road. A train car slowly crushed the electrical substation that powers the museum’s historic cars and destroyed more than 500 feet of suspended overhead wire that carries the 600-volt charge to run them.

“It was a great start to that part of the vacation,” La Costa says with a laugh. “I would have liked to be here to try to help.” It could have been worse—no one was injured and the streetcars were spared damage—but the necessary infrastructure repairs meant the museum’s main attraction, the running of those living time capsules, would be closed until further notice and resume only after thousands of dollars in repairs.

Thankfully, CSX offered to pay the bill, and the museum’s visitor center reopened soon after the accident. The museum is planning a grand reopening as soon as its track is operational, but “that still doesn’t help the whole feeling that it was destroyed,” says Ed Amrhein, the museum’s administrative vice president.

“Most of the people at the museum itself have taken it pretty hard,” he says. “We volunteered a long time to build a lot of this stuff, and to watch it disappear in a couple hours was heartbreaking.”

Chances are, you probably know someone who gets their brows, lashes, facials, or all of the above done at The Loft in Canton. That’s because, over the past four years, owner Natalie Sams and her team have established themselves as the experts in perfectly sculpted brows, sky-high lashes, and flawless skin care. Not only are the services well-executed, but the space—filled with lush greens, modern furniture, and world music—ushers clients into an instant state of relaxation.

And now visiting The Loft just got a lot easier with a second location that opened in Federal Hill in May. “I am so excited to be in Federal Hill and to connect with a new community of people,” says Sams. “There is nothing really like us in this area, so I think it will be a great fit.”

The new location offers all of the same services, including brow design, brow henna, facials, peels, lash lifts and extensions—with a new service called volume lash extensions that splits a regular extension into three for a lightweight feeling that creates a full and feathery look.

With growth still on the horizon for Sams, her plan for maintaining the quality of her service is to use only the best supplies in the industry while still making sure each client feels cared for.

“We are in the human connection industry,” she says. “It’s important for us to be intentional with our services and to customize them for each and every client. We think women should have the freedom to feel confident—whether that means working out, putting on a sexy outfit, or spending a little more time on your eyelashes, we fully support it.”

There’s no shortage of risk-taking theater in Baltimore, but there’s only one troupe that features sword tricks, belly dancing, and actors humping toilets. That would be the Charm City Kitty Club (CCKC), a local queer theater cabaret that will celebrate its 17th season this month with a no-holds-barred show called Claws Up, Walls Down!

Formed in 2002, CCKC started as a queer cabaret based out of the Creative Alliance in Highlandtown. “We set out to create a space where queers could come together that was organized around art rather than alcohol, and it was really effective,” says longtime member Rahne Alexander.

Since then, CCKC has evolved into a volunteer-based organization for people of all races, genders, sexualities, and performance abilities to express themselves on stage. The “Kitties” only perform one to three times per year, but once the curtain rises, they push the boundaries of sex-positive theater with poetry, stand-up comedy, and musical acts that deconstruct gender politics and identity.

After putting on 45 shows, with themes ranging from fairytales to The Golden Girls, the collectively run cabaret has created a community of queer local artists that continues to grow with each performance. Whether volunteers contribute to the show by creating publicity posters or bartending, they’re always welcomed into the group with outstretched paws. “After a while of supporting each other, you become a family,” says longtime member Abby Cocke.

But it’s not just the Kitties that get to have all the fun—CCKC is open to audience participation, too. During the 2005 show Escape to Mortville, non-binary performer Glenn Marla went onstage and, claiming to be “the fattest person you know,” stripped down to nothing and invited onlookers to paint their naked body. “There were respondents saying they really had to challenge their own internal biases in watching that performance,” says Alexander.

From June 28-29, the Kitties will return to the Baltimore Theatre Project stage to take on the much-discussed topic of walls during Claws Up, Walls Down! With four to five acts per show, audiences can expect to see the troupe’s signature weirdness applied to narratives surrounding historic barriers such as the Berlin Wall, as well as community divisions within Baltimore.

“As a black queer artivist from Baltimore, I am truly honored to lend my voice and talent to the theme for this year’s show,” says featured artist Unique Robinson. “It’s apparent that the mask of the nation is off; it’s fully up to us to weave a new cloth.”