In its three decades as a waterfront staple in Annapolis, Pusser’s Caribbean Grille developed a reputation for bringing the party—and, yes, the subsequent pain. When its lease expired in 2024, many feared it was the end of a legendary rum-soaked era. Turns out, it was the beginning of a new one.

Last summer, the restaurant and waterfront bar re-emerged, perfectly situated in Lighthouse Point along Canton’s waterfront. Rebranded Pusser’s Landing, it’s now serving island-inspired and Maryland-style fare, cold beer, and of course stiff drinks to customers who pine to feel transported to a warmer, sunnier, simpler place.

“We purposely [changed the name to] Pusser’s Landing because we do view it as a landing spot, whether you’re coming in off the water, or whether you’ve been at work all day,” says co-owner Jim Lepley, who started working at the restaurant in Annapolis as a busboy. “We see it as a hidden oasis on the water in Baltimore.”

Not visible from Boston Street, the restaurant sits in the marina on the Patapsco River. Customers can walk down a long outdoor ramp to reach the floating dock bar, which seats more than 100. Unlike the space’s previous occupant, Drift Bar, here patrons can belly up to that outdoor bar or grab a table or a spot along the rail overlooking the water.

The full food menu—which includes a solid burger made from a brisket, chuck, and short-rib blend, and a pit beef sandwich, complete with the requisite tiger sauce—is available outside as well.

But whether sitting inside or out, most people out here are here to drink, and the overwhelming favorite is the signature Painkiller. Made with Pusser’s rum, pineapple and orange juices, and cream of coconut, it’s served on the rocks with an orange slice and topped with nutmeg. It tastes like a citrusy piña colada, and can be ordered with either two-, three-, or four-parts rum.

“Regular, strong, and extra strong would be the best way to describe it,” Lepley says. “Being able to say, ‘I’ve had a bad day—I need a four,’ has endeared it to people.”

Inside, the large dining room includes the original long wooden bar from the Annapolis location. Former executive chef Jim Eriksen, a veteran of the Annapolis operation, shaped the regular menu to be heavy on Caribbean influences like mango salsa and jerk seasoning. We found those to be the strongest dishes.

New chef Colin Dixon nails the jerk tuna steak, a beautiful piece of fish prepared perfectly medium rare. The jerk seasoning provided just the right amount of kick. Pan-grilled herb grouper worked well with its mango corn salsa and balsamic glaze. The hardy and tasty jerk chicken and pineapple quesadilla appetizer could serve as an entrée.

The crab cake, as is often the case in Baltimore, was more controversial. Some in our party enjoyed the six-ounce cake, saying its seasonings elicited a unique flavor. Others thought it was oversalted and bland.

Numerous staff followed Pusser’s up the Chesapeake to its new location, and that loyalty shows. The service has been excellent every time we’ve visited. Future plans include delivery to boats in the marina (the restaurant now offers two hours of free docking for patrons).

As it settles into its new digs, all signs point to a peaceful, not painful landing for Pusser’s.

PUSSER’S LANDING 2780 Lighthouse Point E, 443- 869-2067. HOURS: Mon.-Wed. 3 p.m.-10 p.m., Thur. noon-10 p.m., Fri.-Sat. noon-11 p.m., Sun. noon-10 p.m. PRICES: Starters $15-20; salads $12-18; sandwiches $17-28; entrees $28-50.

From the late 1970s through the mid 1980s, much of my childhood was spent frequenting the local corner stores. My friends and I would go after school and all throughout the summer. All the neighborhoods—Canton, Highlandtown, and what is now Brewers Hill—were positively full of them.

The corner stores I remember sold groceries, meats, snacks, drinks, milk, sodas, snowballs, candy, and even Pinky Hi-Bounce balls, metal jacks game sets, and wooden paddle balls. As a young child, I ate ice cream kiddie cups with a wooden spoon, and as a teen, I devoured snowballs—but only certain flavors: sky blue (which tasted, well, blue), grape, spearmint, or egg custard topped with marshmallow.

Even though corner stores were prevalent in Southeast Baltimore, there’s surprisingly not a lot of written history about them. So, I decided to go straight to the source and reached out to six families of corner store owners to get a real feel for what life was like for them.

URBAN VILLAGES
Retired Senator Barbara Mikulski essentially grew up in a corner store. Her parents, William and Chris Mikulski, purchased their first shop, Willy’s, as newlyweds in 1935. It was located at 718 S. Eaton St., in what is today Brewers Hill.

“People didn’t have cars, so they lived in urban villages, where everything was within walking distance, and they shopped in the same area,” says Mikulski. “There were little mom-and-pop stores on the corners that met basic needs—a baker’s shop, a grocery store, a shoe repair, etc. Then there was the Avenue [Eastern Avenue] where we would shop for the rest.”

Mikulski’s parents purchased a house near the shop at 715 S. Eaton St., and they rented out the apartment above Willy’s. “You usually rented to a relative or somebody you knew from work or church,” she says.

According to Eric Holcomb, author of The City as Suburb: A History of Northeast Baltimore Since 1660, before the 20th century, there was no “separation of uses” in terms of zoning. “That’s why corner stores could have your house, your store, and even your warehouse in the same building,” says Holcomb.

In Willy’s early days, Mikulski’s father ran the store, and her mom kept the books while taking care of their daughters and household. When the store got busy, “Miss Chris,” as she was known to the neighborhood kids, helped out. I remember her always throwing a candy bar into the paper bag filled with my mom’s purchases.

While they initially sold canned goods and meats, as her father was an accomplished butcher, Mikulski says that her parents were forward-thinking when it came to the business.

“When World War II was over, my mother told my father that women were going to move from canned goods to frozen food. My father had one of the first freezers in the neighborhood in that store,” Mikulski says.

If her parents knew someone was ill, they would send young Barbara to their homes with their orders. They wouldn’t let her accept a tip. “You’re the grocer’s daughter. Be kind and be helpful,” they’d tell her.

Mikulski remembers the basement of their corner store being used as a fallout shelter during WWII for vulnerable populations.

“My father was an air raid warden. He and one of the other guys in their late 20s would patrol the neighborhood. And if there was ever an air-raid siren, my father’s place was one of the designated shelters,” she says. “The elderly or anyone with children would go into the basement and wait until the air raid was over. There were canned goods down there for them if needed. Whether it would’ve ever really worked, who knows?”

Her parents retired and sold the store in the early 1970s. For a while, it was used to sell meats and for catering. Now, it’s a private home that you’d never know was once a corner store.

“People didn’t have cars, so they lived where everything was within walking distance and shopped in the same area. There were mom-and-pop stores on the corners that met basic needs.”

SUPPORTING HER FAMILY
In 1957, Baltimore City firefighter Lee MacKenzie died of a heart issue. Like many men of his generation, he was the sole supporter of his family. Although she received a small amount of money from the Widow and Orphan’s Fund, his widow, Mary Magdalene “Lena” MacKenzie, needed to support her children.

So, MacKenzie bought an already existing store at 3225 Foster Ave. at the corner of Foster Ave. and Bouldin St. in Highlandtown. At the time, she and her children lived nearby at 3217 Foster Ave. and rented out the upstairs apartment above the store. Four years later, when her daughter Elinor married Jim Benzing, MacKenzie sold them that house, and she and her daughter Maria moved into the accommodations directly behind the store, while continuing to rent the upstairs.

Known as MacKenzie’s Confectionery, the store sold only key essentials since there was an A&P grocery store nearby. That included milk, bread, and eggs, plus a soda fountain—where she and Maria would make fountain sodas, milkshakes, hand-dipped ice cream, ice cream floats, and snowballs.

“When the egg man dropped off eggs to grandma’s [store], he would drop eggs off at our house too,” recalls Chris Benzing, her grandson. “I thought the egg man came to everyone’s house, because for us that was normal.”

Behind the counter, MacKenzie sold packs of cigarettes, some canned goods, cereal, soap, detergent, toilet paper, and other shelf-stable items. She also sold knickknacks, small toys, and greeting cards on a spinning rack.

Like many corner store owners, she didn’t keep stock in bulk, as vendors would come by weekly and take orders on what she needed. The next week, they’d deliver them. According to Mikulski, this is why many stores were on the corner of blocks or alleys—to make delivery easy.

The MacKenzies lived in the small apartment—living room, galley kitchen, one bedroom—behind the store, through a doorway that was always open. Their bathroom, with its clawfoot tub, was in the basement, which was also used for storage.

“The basement was the scariest. We raced through it. It wasn’t finished, and it just had their bathroom and furnace,” says Leah Benzing, a granddaughter.

“That’s where she also had all the flavors for the snowballs in big containers on a table,” adds Barbara Smith, another granddaughter.

The store front had a doorbell attached, which would ring in the kitchen. That way, if their grandmother and Maria were having lunch when the store was empty, they would know when a customer arrived.

In 1975, MacKenzie sold her store to one of her vendors, and it became Dawn’s Confectionery, named after the owner’s daughter. It’s now a rowhome.

MISS CASS’
In 1961, three months after Theresa Buerhaus Pratt was born, she and her four siblings moved with their parents to a corner store at 3800 Fait Ave. and Eaton St. in what is now Brewers Hill. Her father, George, worked full-time, and her mom, Cass, stayed home with the kids. Officially called Buerhaus Confectionery Store, it was known by the neighborhood as Miss Cass’ or just Cass’.

Although it was less than a block away from Mikulski’s parent’s shop, Miss Cass sold items the nearby store didn’t have, like comic books, newspapers, Tasty Kakes, and cigarettes. There was also a glass case of penny candy, and they sold snowballs out of the garage on the back of the house.

During many summer breaks, Pratt would work at the snowball stand three days a week from 10 a.m. until 10 p.m. Before opening, she’d mix the marshmallow and mix flavors. Upon closing, she would count the money, roll the coins, and wipe everything down with bleach.

“But I got paid $5 a day,” says Pratt proudly.

Behind the store was their living room, kitchen, and the garage. Upstairs were three bedrooms, one for the four girls (who slept in two double beds), the middle room for their brother, and the back one for their parents. While she enjoyed living at the store, Pratt says there was one downside. The store opened directly into their living room, and her mom insisted on keeping one of the French doors open at all times.

“She would never close it, and it would drive us nuts because you’d be sitting there on the couch trying to watch TV or doing your homework, and if someone wasn’t right in the store to wait on them, they’d stick their heads into our living room while saying, ‘Anybody home?’” says Pratt.

In the late 1970s, Miss Cass moved the snowballs inside the store. She began selling Stewart Sandwiches, a popular, pre-packaged, refrigerated brand of pizza, hot dogs, and grilled cheese sandwiches, which customers like me would take out of the fridge and hand to Miss Cass for toasting. Even though they were cooked in the plastic, my friends and I thought they were absolutely delicious.

As time passed, people were driving more to stores, so they weren’t visiting Cass’ as much and business really dropped off. Pratt says her mom even tried to make it into a corner coffee shop, with coffees, teas, and pastries. But it just didn’t work. The store closed in 2014.

“My mom was so sad,” says Pratt. “She really loved all the kids who came to the store.”

STILL IN BUSINESS
Luigi Di Pasquale came to America from Italy when he was 14 years old. He worked for the railroad but didn’t like it and eventually left. In 1914, he opened a corner store at 3700 Claremont St. across from Our Lady of Pompei in Highlandtown. The building was so large, Luigi used the extra rooms as a boarding house for local men.

“We sold everything in the Italian line, from spaghetti on down,” says his son, Leo Di Pasquale, 95.

After Luigi married, he and his wife, Anna, had seven children, all of whom grew up to help at the store for a time.

“Every time mom had a baby, she kicked one of his borders out to make room for all of us—until it was all family,” says Leo with a laugh.

In the early days, besides selling groceries and candy, Leo says they had live chickens, turkeys, pigs, and goats available to be butchered for customers. Joe Di Pasquale, Leo’s nephew, who runs the family business now, says his grandparents also manufactured bleach in the alley.

In 1988, Joe and his brothers and sisters assumed ownership of the business from their dad, Luigi Jr., and moved it to 3700 Gough St., still in Highlandtown. Joe says over the years, suppliers gave them advice on how to keep the store running—stick with specialty items.

While Di Pasquale’s Italian Market still exists, it transitioned from the typical corner store to a deli and a casual eatery offering everything from subs and sandwiches to brick-oven pizzas and pasta dishes. They also grew to four locations.

“We expanded the kitchen and the menu, and we caught the prepared foods wave,” explains Joe.

Forno, which is still at the Gough St. location, is a little restaurant with a speakeasy feel. They kept a lot from the old corner store, so it looks like a museum of days gone by. And although the shop on Claremont St. has been gone for decades, it still sports a painted mural of the original Di Pasquale family and some of their wares.

“Everything in the neighborhood was close then,” says Leo. “And we were all there, working together in the store.”

THREE GENERATIONS OF LOU’S
Kristan Barbarino Wilson isn’t sure when her grandparents, Ida and Louis Barbarino, first opened Lou’s Confectionery corner store at 3401 Hudson St., but she remembers her parents, Joseph and Sharon, buying it from them in the mid-1970s.

Located across the street from what was then Canton #230 school and just a few blocks away from St. Brigid’s School, the store did a hearty business selling snacks, ice cream, soda, and candy to kids as well as canned goods, deli meat, steaks, pork chops, and cigarettes to adults.

Wilson’s grandparents lived on the first floor of the house next door, which the family also owned. Her family lived upstairs of both the shop and the house, as the second floor in each was connected. Wilson and her friends loved going into the store after closing time—truly kids in a candy store.

“We had central air in our house and store and the same phone number for both. When my parents got a phone call, but were in the store, we would yell through the air vent, ‘Pick up the phone!’” Wilson recalls with a laugh. “It was fun!”

NOT-ON-THE-CORNER STORE
In October of 1976, Libby and John Maciolek purchased Walt & Theresa’s, a store in the middle of the block at 3033-35 Hudson St. in Canton and renamed it John and Libby’s Confectionery. (Why many of these corner stores called themselves “confectioneries”—meaning a store that sells candy—no one seems to know, as they sold much more than sweets. Maybe they thought it sounded fancy.)

John and Libby’s carried groceries, canned goods, sodas, ice cream, snacks, and snowballs. In 1980, their daughter Laura Maciolek Stanton became manager, and her mom changed the store’s name again, this time to John and Libby’s Variety. In 1982, they expanded and began selling more groceries, packaged goods, penny candy, and seasonal toys.

During the spring and summer, Stanton remembers their tremendous snowball business that would have people lining down the block—especially for her mom’s homemade egg custard. Stanton, her sister, and their parents lived behind and above both sides of the store.

“My mom treated my friends like her daughters. We used to love having sleepovers because we’d come down after the store closed, and my friends could have all the ice cream, chips, and soda they wanted,” she recalls. “We had pinball machines, so it was almost like we had our own arcade, too.”

Stanton still owns the original penny machine from 1912. Many corner stores had them, and some were called “Bullseye.” Kids would put a penny in the top, and it would move down a pegboard, much like the Plinko game on The Price Is Right. If it landed in the right space at the bottom, you won a five- or ten-cent piece of candy.

As Canton was revitalized, fewer customers frequented their store. They couldn’t make a living anymore and closed in 2004. “When the community found out we were closing, they were devastated,” says Stanton. “There aren’t any stores like ours in Canton anymore. That was a different time.”

This article first appeared in our May 2026 issue. If you connected with it, consider becoming a print subscriber. 

The first time you walk into Steak N’ Bone, the well-appointed Korean barbecue restaurant housed in a Canton rowhouse, of all places, it might be because you’re desperate for a bubbling cauldron of kimchi-jjigae stew without having to drive to Station North or Catonsville or even Virginia.

The second time, you might do it right with an all-you-can-eat party, or perhaps a friends-and-family dinner, with all the grilled meats and banchan, chased down with some Korean beer and shots of soju.

The third time, maybe you’ll walk in again and order some to-go dishes or sit in the back dining room during the day, before the late-night folks arrive, just to have the outstanding crunchy seafood pancakes.

This isn’t the first restaurant to be operated out of this location, on the corner of Streeper and O’Donnell, just a block or so south of Café Dear Leon (and its permanent crab-bagel line), but it’s certainly the first Korean BBQ spot.

Open since September of 2024, the space has been beautifully updated, with wooden paneling and lots of windows that make it seem more like a lofty cabin than a barbecue joint. Don’t miss the huge kelly-green soju frog sitting on the bar guarding the impressive collection of liquor bottles, not just because it’s impressive, but because it reminds you to order soju—a distilled spirit made from rice, wheat, or barley and the national drink of Korea. (More on that later.)

Steak N’ Bone is owned and operated by Young Lee—who’s also involved with the hugely popular Bonchon Korean Fried Chicken and who is Korean-Argentine, which means he understands steak better than you do—with the considerable help of his nephew Kevin Lee, who’s also the manager and often your server.

“My parents are into it as well,” says Kevin of his uncle’s restaurant one evening, as he expertly scissors sizzling pork belly, brisket, and bone-in short ribs under one of the vertically moveable vents that make the restaurant look less like a KBBQ joint than a Quentin Tarantino set.

“It’s a small family business,” he says, while he migrates the meat off the fire and adds whole garlic cloves and jalapeños to the grill. Meanwhile, the small dishes of banchan are replenished and joined by bowls of rice, some pretty wonderful cheesy corn, more bubbling kimchi-jjigae, a bowl of lettuce leaves like a farmer’s bouquet with which to make ad hoc wraps, and that seafood pancake, a crispy, crunchy, blissful disk of seafood and greenery that comes topped with a bowl of dipping sauce.

If you ask nicely, Kevin will swing by and cut up your bits of sizzled steak and maybe work more magic—squeezing lemon on them and dusting them with Maldon salt.

When not busy doing other owner-related things, Young can often be found upstairs pretending to be Sweeney Todd—thinly slicing cuts of meat on a massive machine, or sourcing the steaks themselves, which come from local farms and are dry-aged for 28 or more days. It is those steaks, of course, that determined both the restaurant’s name and the fact that you will, if you get the bone-in option, end up with an actual bone smoking on your table’s hubcap-sized grill.

That smoke is pretty fun itself, and creates its own weather systems in the dining rooms—there are a few of them, both in the main street-level and upstairs. (There is also, amazingly, an actual dumbwaiter in the kitchen.)

There are more things on the menu that should be eaten, including yukhoe, which is the Korean iteration of steak tartare, an egg soufflé, and a terrific rendition of bulgogi. And there are things to order from the bar, which is well-stocked, as Young was once, conveniently, a liquor distributor. Which brings us back to soju.

We highly suggest ordering a bottle, even if you don’t drink much, because maybe either Young or Kevin or someone else might do this marvelous trick, in which they swirl the bottle around until an actual funnel forms inside, like a tiny tornado.

It’s a fitting conclusion to a marvelous meal—a bit of showmanship not unlike having your server bestow a martini sidecar or a perfectly pulled espresso—and yet another reason to rejoice in the fact that you don’t have to drive home from Ellicott City for your KBBQ fix.

STEAK N’ BONE: 2821 O’Donnell St., 443-401-2288. HOURS: Sun. Thurs. 11 a.m.-9 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-9:30 p.m. PRICES: Appetizers: $10; mains: $13-25; a la carte: $15-42; AYCE: varies. AMBIANCE: Woodsy Canton corner rowhouse and serious bar.

More is More: My home that I share with my husband, Brian Rohloff, is alternative and eclectic, incorporating both modern and vintage décor. We tend to favor maximalism, and love to surround ourselves with unique pieces that showcase our personality and love for punk music, antiques and oddities, street art, and tattoos.

House Rules: Our home is about 110 years old, having been built around 1915. It is a classic Canton rowhome, featuring a red brick exterior, marble front steps, and a stained-glass window. The window inspired much of our décor. The glass features rich jewel tones in emerald green, sapphire blue, and gold, which we repeated throughout the main floor of our home.

Inspired Workspace: Our favorite room in the house is probably the office. When we first moved in, this room was a plain white box, so it was also one of our biggest transformations. We knew we wanted custom floor-to-ceiling bookcases, which became the focal point. The vision for the design of the room was to lean into Regency-era décor, with lots of velvet and opulent gold accents, such as the antique chandelier.

Where We Live: The main floor of our home is our favorite place to be. Our home is open concept, with the living room, dining room, and kitchen all connecting. It’s a great place to entertain or relax, and it also houses one of our most prized possessions—our vinyl record collection. Music plays a large part in our life, and we have a collection of almost 1,000 vinyl records. Finding adequate storage for this collection in a skinny rowhome with limited space was a challenge, but we found beautiful handcrafted vinyl storage cabinets from a woodworker on Etsy that solved the problem.

Personal Style: I love to dress in bold and bright colors, much like the décor in our home. You can often find me sporting bright pink hair and vintage-inspired glasses. I’m a maximalist, both within my style of décor and dress. Brian is a local tattoo artist, and we find that there are many similarities between the desire to decorate your home and the desire to decorate your skin. Much of his work incorporates bold colors and traditional designs, which you can also find within our home.

Right at Home: We have always liked our spaces to reflect our interests and who we are as people. We are both creative people in general, and we see our home as being another blank canvas where we can showcase our range of creative personalities. Each room within our home tells its own story, with some being more edgy and dark, and others lighter and more feminine.

Walk into Midlina, the new restaurant on Boston Street in Canton, and you’ll see a long, well-stocked, and inviting bar, a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor—and a series of metal helmets, prominently displayed, as if in the medieval wing of a museum.

The helmets are from owner Karim Kiriakos’ own collection, sourced over a lifetime of world travels. It’s these travels that are the inspiration for his first restaurant, rather than, say, a reference to jousting, Maryland’s state sport.

Midlina is dark and cozy, with a playlist of retro tunes and a creative cocktail list. There’s also an actual speakeasy upstairs, Poe’s Tower, the entrance of which is a moving bookshelf (that spiral staircase is decorative and not for customers) through which you must be delivered by a staff member. But though it feels like a bar, Midlina is a restaurant, and an experimental one at that.

Kiriakos has hired Cyrus Keefer, a journeyman chef with a long résumé (Fork & Wrench, Birroteca, The Red Star, Kneads) to run his kitchen, though Kiriakos, who has his own long résumé as well as a culinary school diploma, could probably have done it himself. (When the chef recently called out sick, Kiriakos took over the stoves.) The pair have dreamt up an innovative menu of creative, even occasionally odd dishes, which Kiriakos imagines as a kind of itinerary from those travels.

The name of the place, Midlina, is also a signal to this, taken from the name of an actual footbridge between the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates, on Iceland’s Reykjanes peninsula. Thus the menu includes dishes as far-ranging as a vegetable tagine laced with the Moroccan spice ras el hanout, gambas a la plancha, paella, fusilli Amatriciana, tandoori octopus, and escargot tacos. Yes, escargot tacos.

“That was my idea,” Kiriakos tells me early one evening just as the dining room is filling up. He explains that he told Keefer, “Make me like escargot.” Apparently, it worked, though I’ve not yet tried them (as not even a good mole sauce would make me like escargots). But what I have tried has been expertly prepared, quite delicious, and definitely novel.

The fusilli Amatriciana is a gorgeous treatment of the famed Roman dish, composed of house-made pasta, a dense red sauce laced with the Calabrian sausage paste N’duja, and topped with both a hefty spoonful of burrata and a branch of roasted on-the-vine cherry tomatoes. The tomatoes are sweet explosions that make the dish next-level good. This is the only pasta dish on the relatively short menu, which seems to have resulted in a concentration of both attention and flavor.

The seafood ceviche is similarly focused, an artful bowl of tender shrimp and octopus—cooked sous-vide then finished on the grill—accompanied by long strips of fried plantain chips. One dish not to be missed is the simplest, an appetizer of rice-paper chips, a pile of sliced jamon serrano, and little bowls of romesco sauce and smoked garlic aioli.

Keefer is very good with sauces, and he zaps most of his dishes with excellent iterations of them. That smoked garlic aioli also makes an appearance with the skirt steak, which comes draped across a mound of thin fries cooked in beef fat and topped with a verdant version of chimichurri sauce. And the gambas a la plancha, which is to say grilled shrimp, is paired not only with crunchy disks of sweet potatoes but with copious amounts of both red and green chile salsas.

The happy-go-lucky approach to sauces is one of the highlights of Midlina’s menu, and works better than Keefer’s sometimes heavy hand with spices. Both the shrimp and the ceviche are a few notes too busy, and the vegetable tagine is so dosed with ras el hanout that it obscures the spring vegetables. Hopefully, he’ll lighten it up, as there are too few tagines on menus these days, especially ones as pretty as Midlina’s.

Midlina has only been open for a few months, so like most new restaurants, it’s still a work in progress. Kiriakos is experimenting with “chef’s table” nights, where Keefer cooks tasting-menu dinners; there’s live music three nights a week upstairs at Poe’s Tower, where diners can order the full menu as well as from that cocktail menu (espresso martinis, smoked Old-Fashioned, Empress gin fizzes); and there are weekly prix-fixe and wine bottle specials. There was even a recent masquerade party.

The often-changing menu also includes a weekend off-the-menu special: an elaborate mixed-grill plate of lamb chops, quail, skirt steak, and kofta kebabs, a dish that Kiriakos says he makes regularly at home.

Kiriakos, who was born in Egypt and moved to Maryland as a kid, is an alum not only of the now-closed Baltimore Inernational College’s culinary program but of years working with the Atlas Restaurant Group. This experience makes for a hands-on approach, as he’s often running the floor as maître d’ or working behind the bar.

Opening his own restaurant, he says, “Has been my dream since I was in middle school.” There’s a kid-like playfulness to Midlina, both on the menu and in the décor, that makes the place a great deal of fun. And after dinner, even if you opt out of a nightcap, be sure to check out the swinging-bookshelf secret door.

MIDLINA: 2206 Boston St., 410-775-4094. HOURS: Tues.-Thurs. 5.-10 p.m.; Fri., Sat. 5-11 p.m.; Sun. 2-9 p.m. PRICES: Appetizers: $19-28; mains: $32-60; desserts: $16; prix-fixe: $60. AMBIANCE: Upscale but fun.

Dogs are everywhere inside Canton’s hopping new breakfast and lunch spot. Paintings of them hang on the walls. Polaroids of them are posted everywhere. And, of course, one adorns the restaurant’s logo. To be clear, the living, panting, drooling, shedding, yet irresistibly lovable kind have to stay outside, but their positive energy undoubtedly adds to the great vibe at Good Boy Bagels—and bowls of cold water and dog biscuits are available for them on the patio out front.

Since it opened in May, the cafe has attracted a loyal following of people who come for the hand-rolled bagels, housemade sausage and sides, and locally roasted coffee from Ceremony. Once they experience the warm, welcoming space, they keep coming back.

“I’ve always loved hosting gatherings, and I always said that if I ever had a place like this, I would want it to feel like you were coming to my house,” says co-owner Lauren Kistner.

She accomplished that by decorating the space with bright colors, art sourced from Etsy, and some of her own work, including paintings of food. Her business partner is Benjamin Sawyer (it’s his dog, Luffy, on the logo), who runs the back of the house. A veteran of respected kitchens like Magdalena, most recently he was a butcher at John Brown General & Butchery in Cockeysville.

“Since I’ve been in Baltimore, what I’ve really craved the most is bagels,” says Sawyer, a New Jersey native who lives in Canton. “I would visit my mom and get bagels at our local bagel shop every day. I just felt like we didn’t have our style of bagels here.”

Sawyer has created a menu that melds the type of bagel from back home—denser than many made here—with items like pit beef from his adopted state of Maryland. The king of the breakfast specials is the 40 Gold (the name pays homage to the legendary Chaps Pit Beef on Route 40), a bagel sandwich that pairs the beef—usually bottom round rubbed and injected with seasoning, rare on the inside, charred on the outside—with fried eggs, onion, and cheddar horseradish cream cheese.

Because Good Boy’s bagels are flatter than most, when the halves are pressed together, they don’t squeeze out the components between them like many other bagel sandwiches do. Take for example the pizza bagel, a delightfully garlicy concoction that leaves the marinara on the side. Instead of taking a bite that pulls all the cheese and sauce off the bagel and onto your chin, it holds its structural integrity. Dunk it in the tub of marinara at your leisure.

Each bagel here comes out hot and fresh with a subtle natural crunch, so it doesn’t need to be toasted. Hash browns are a single fried, circular, bagel-sized patty that can go on the bagel or beside it. Pasta salad uses pimento cheese, elevating it from a standard side to a star. Breakfast sausage is made in-house, heavy on sage and ginger.

Oh, and no need to tie up your pup if you want to order: An employee will come outside to take your order. And if you want to pick up curbside, instead of listing the model of your car, you can give your dog’s name and breed. It’s these little touches that have made Good Boy Bagels a favorite for Cantonites—two- and four-legged alike.

GOOD BOY BAGELS: 834 S. Conkling St., Canton. HOURS: Mon., Wed.-Fri. 7 a.m.-2 p.m.; Sat.-Sun. 8 a.m.-2 p.m. PRICES: Bagels: $2 (single), $22 (baker’s dozen); breakfast and lunch: $10-20.

Change is inevitable—especially in the bar business. When word came that Looney’s Pub, a Canton staple for nearly three decades, was closing, it felt to many longtime neighborhood residents like they were losing a friend. Did it have the tastiest food in town? Mix the best cocktails? Have the cleanest bathrooms? No to all. It was an imperfect friend, but a great friend, nonetheless.

When Dragonfly Hospitality, the group behind El Bufalo Tequila Bar & Kitchen, on the other side of O’Donnell Square, and Fells Point’s Prima Dopo, among others, bought it and announced plans to renovate the space and reopen with a new concept, skepticism abounded. Sure, there was plenty of room for improvement, but a sports bar packed with TVs, juicy wings, and great memories is a hard thing to replace.

Enter The Worthington, which bills itself as an “American tavern and sports bar.” Open since January, it has seamlessly fit into the bar scene in Canton precisely because it’s not trying to replicate Looney’s—it’s just trying to be itself.

Like Dragonfly’s other properties, The Worthington takes its sense of style seriously. While the renovation kept most of the layout the same, there’s a newness and shine to the place. The space now is much brighter and airier. A new second story balcony wraps around the restaurant, creating additional outdoor seating (there are tables on the sidewalk as well), and when all the windows are open, the upstairs bar feels like it’s almost outside. Thankfully the bathrooms are all new, and plenty of TVs remain.

The Worthington’s drink menu is highlighted by an array of cocktails that tend toward the sweeter side. The Dubya Marg, made with Casamigas jalapeño tequila, Ancho Reyes, lime, agave, and pineapple juice, is a well-crafted take on the classic. The Old Smashin’ is a bourbon-based drink that includes chocolate bitters and brown sugar simple syrup. The lemon cheesecake martini—well, the name basically says it all. Crushes, pickle back flights, and bombs claim their own sections of the menu along with mocktails, seltzers, wine, and a host of beers. There’s no shortage of beverages to consume.

The food menu is smaller, allowing the kitchen to concentrate on quality for a smaller number of dishes. The crispy spicy tuna appetizer—tuna tartare topped with a spicy mixture of jalapeño, onion, soy sauce, hoisin, sesame oil, and chile-oil scallion on fried rice cakes—is excellent, and a plate of crispy chicken fried rice comes with an abundance of chicken and two crunchy fried drumsticks on the side. Sports bar traditionalists can relax; wings, burgers, and nachos are here too.

Live music and promotions like pop-up parlays—for example, if Caitlin Clark scored 15 points during the first half of Iowa’s Final Four game versus Connecticut, happy hour specials would stay in place for the rest of the night (sadly, she fell short)—add to the new vibe.

The Worthington is not an improvement on Looney’s, nor is it a downgrade. It’s simply different. A worthy successor.

When we took our seats at the bar at Love, Pomelo, the charming new Roman-inspired aperitivo bar and restaurant on O’Donnell Square in Canton, something felt…off. The cushioned, backed stools were quite comfortable, the granite bar itself immaculately clean, and the people on the other side tending it attentive and cheerful. So what was it?

“It’s much lower than a typical bar height,” co-owner Min Kim explained a few days later. The bar stands just 38 inches tall, about four inches shorter than a standard one.

“In Italy, even when you’re sitting at the bar, you truly get a full dining experience. You’re not just eating bar food. We want people to feel comfortable whether they’re having a quick dinner or sitting for two or three hours.”

Having done both, we can say that Kim and his business partner, Charles Lee, have achieved their goal—and that level of attention to detail permeates the place.

The 28-seat restaurant has been a welcome addition to the neighborhood—which lacks not for regular-sized bar stools on which burgers, wings, and beer are consumed—since it opened in April. That the partners’ excellent bakery two doors down, Café Dear Leon, remains wildly popular only raised expectations for Love, Pomelo. The names of the establishments are a nod to the opening and closing of a letter—Leon is the name of Kim’s son and Pomelo is Lee’s wife’s nickname for him, derived from the grapefruit-like fruit.

“When someone writes you a letter, they’ve thought about you and they want to make you feel loved and cared for,” Kim says.

That sentiment shines through in every aspect of the restaurant. During both of our visits in May, our service couldn’t have been better. In the dining room, simply decorated in dark walnut tones, a server accidentally touched one of our forks, then without being asked, replaced it with a clean one. After finishing our pre-dinner cocktails, a well-executed house negroni and a tequila-based drink with honey, genepy liqueur, lemon, and chile oil (there are also several mocktails and low-ABV options), we asked for a wine recommendation to pair with the meal. Not only did our server offer one, he reappeared with two bottles and offered everyone at the table a taste.

The kitchen is led by chef and co-owner Ermal Mirtaj, who grew up outside of Rome, where he attended culinary school before moving to New York. That’s where he met Kim, when they were both working at Marta, a Roman trattoria owned by the famed Union Square Hospitality Group (not the restaurant of the same name in Butchers Hill).

Mirtaj has crafted a small menu that focuses on fresh seasonal ingredients like watermelon, which that day was paired with shishito peppers and goat cheese and drizzled with balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil to create a refreshing appetizer that could double as a light dessert. Squash stuffed with eggplant and tomato wasn’t overpowered by the ricotta, which only added to the flavor. Stracciatella, made in-house, and focaccia, baked at Café Dear Leon, is on a happy hour menu that’s available in the dining room as well as the bar from 4 to 6 p.m. As anyone who’s been to the bakery—and based on the permanent line on weekends—would guess, the bread is spectacular. It’s also addictive. Be forewarned.

Of the three pastas available on the nights we visited, the rigatoni Norma stood out. The house-made noodles were al dente, and combined with eggplant, ricotta salata, and pecorino to create a dish best described as Italian comfort food. Curiously, a plate of spaghetti with crab and ramps—a vegetable similar to spring onions—fell flat. Not enough crab and a lack of seasoning rendered it bland.

Arctic char is not a fish seen on many menus, and here it’s treated with the needed simplicity. The filet was cooked perfectly and served atop a bed of fava bean, tomato, and cucumber panzanella. It’s a worthwhile light and healthful option. The star of the menu is the 10-ounce grilled strip steak, served sliced with purple potatoes and an excellent salsa verde. Squeeze the grilled lemon over the meat to add a bit of acidity, and you’ll have one of the best takes on steak in town.

Our meal was capped with a slice of tiramisu, a version that’s exactly what you’d expect from the iconic dessert: in a word, decadent.

We couldn’t finish all that we ordered, so we asked to take it home. When the server returned it in a box, the date and contents were written on the outside, along with a closing salutation: “Love, Pomelo.”

For the past decade, Ron Legler has been president of the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center, home of Baltimore’s historic Hippodrome Theatre. His life partner, Andrew Springer, runs the M&T Bank Exchange, the venue’s performance and events space that opened next-door last year. Call them a downtown power couple.

On weekends, though, you’re likely to find them in Canton, particularly at Walt’s Inn, the beloved dive bar and oldest karaoke bar in Baltimore, and not just as patrons. In late February, the couple bought the century-old building and business at 3201 O’Donnell Street, in hopes of keeping customers “waltzing in” to Walt’s Inn for another century to come.

“It’s a piece of Baltimore history,” says Legler. “We want to hang onto that.”

He and Springer discovered Walt’s after moving to the neighborhood in 2017. Walking between their house and O’Donnell Square, they became regulars, getting to know the longtime bartenders, and learning about the building’s legacy along the way.

Two years later, the previous co-owner, Terry Watnoski, passed away, and then came the COVID-19 pandemic, which left his widow, Willi, struggling to keep the bar afloat. Legler and Springer worried that a real-estate speculator would swoop in and turn their local hangout, now only open two nights a week, into a million-dollar townhome, so they decided to buy it themselves, in order to retain the bar’s staff and sense of place.

“It’s been around a very long time, and we want to continue that tradition,” says Legler, noting that the circa-1920s bar once catered to shift workers from nearby factories along the harbor. Music was commonplace, and by the 1970s, the first karaoke machine arrived.

Between then and now, it only had a few owners, and two were named Walt, including Willi’s father, who eventually passed the bar to her. The location of Walt’s has worked in its favor. It’s three blocks east of Canton’s busy commercial district, the O’Donnell Square, and surrounded by several communities within easy walking distance.

Besides keeping the name, Legler and Springer have retained the Formstone exterior with its octagonal windows and the long interior bar, likely built in the 1920s. At the same time, there have been updates, such as new speakers, a credit-card reader, and a KaraFun karaoke system, featuring more than 80,000 songs, from Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” to Beyoncé’s “Texas Hold ’Em.”

Prices remain low, red Solo cups continue to be the glassware of choice, and Jell-O shots carry on. They’re now open five days a week, Wednesday through Sunday, allowing crooners to belt their hearts out into the wee hours of the night.

“People come here just to have a good time,” says Springer.

This isn’t the first time that Legler has run a night spot. He previously worked as a Broadway booking agent, and before moving to Baltimore, he co-founded Pulse, the popular gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, where, in 2016, a mass shooting left 49 people dead and 53 wounded—the deadliest attack against the LGBTQ+ community in U.S. history.

The new owners want Walt’s to be welcoming to all, regardless of their age, race, gender, or sexuality—let alone their singing skills.

“I once sang ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ and it was not very enchanting,” admits Legler, who hopes that Peabody Institute vocal artists pop in from time to time, or visiting performers swing through after their Hippodrome shows.

They are toying with ideas like theme nights, such as musical hits, yacht rock, and Sunday singalongs, and envision installing a recording studio on the third floor.

Some days, just before it’s time to open, Legler thinks of Willi’s late husband and all he did to keep this bit of Old Baltimore alive.

“I still feel Terry around,” he says, wistfully. “I think he’s happy that someone’s caring about the place.”

The Walts probably are, too.

The Dive, the new restaurant on a Canton street corner, both is and is not a dive bar.

The exterior brickwork is painted cobalt blue and features a deep-sea diver, as if you’ve wandered into a marine supply shop. Inside, the purple booths are filled with families digging into hubcap-sized double pepperoni pizzas or smashburgers. Perched at the bar are men with cans of Natty Boh and a silver-haired couple sharing an Alfredo pizza, one with a glass of wine, the other a cocktail the color of swimming pool water called the Blue Hawaii.

The quirky menu is a blissful hodgepodge of bar standbys like chicken wings and cheesesteaks, and mash-up inventions including a sandwich loaded with peanut butter, potato chips, and Sriracha, and a pizza with cheese, pickled jalapeños, and “Dorito essence,” which is what happens when you pulverize a handful of the spicy chips and pretend it’s fancy seasoning salt.

Which is to say that The Dive is a dive bar, but it is Jesse Sandlin’s dive bar. The Baltimore native, Top Chef alum, and owner of nearby Sally O’s opened her new joint in November. On the surface, what her kitchen turns out may look like stoner junk food, but it’s thoughtful, well-orchestrated—and creative to the point of being goofy.

“There’s people walking dogs and baby strollers,” says Sandlin. “As much as we love the dive bar mentality, this was not going to be old men playing video poker by the bar.”

The turn-of-the-century rowhouse is nonetheless a bar, so there’s beer and wine, and a cocktail list as inventive as the food, often poured by Peter Enny, Sandlin’s life and business partner. There’s that Blue Hawaii, and the bright green Pinball Wizard, concocted with cucumber gin, fruit, and aquafaba, the name for the liquid remaining after cooking chickpeas and an ingredient that’s become a favorite for both bartenders and pastry chefs.

Here, the produce is from farmers’ markets and ingredients are used in pragmatic, cheffy ways, like the bowls of habit-forming crispy chickpeas—hence the aquafaba. Sandlin’s wings get a two-day bath in herby buttermilk, are blanched and double-fried, then tossed with garlic-butter and Parmesan. The fried bologna sandwich is actually mortadella, sauced and topped with fried pickles. Pickles are everywhere on the menu: fried as a bar snack, nestled into the smashburger—and on the wonderful pickle pizza.

Scattered across the top of a sturdy pie—built with Havarti, “tiger sauce,” and dill—the pickles give crunch and a hit of acidity. It’s one of those odd combinations that only seems strange until you try it.

There’s also a late-night “sausage party,” with foot-long hot dogs topped with bacon-jalapeño relish or crab dip. And the kitchen stays open till midnight, so you can order a pie with maitake mushrooms, ricotta, za’atar, and truffle honey with a last Dirty Bird martini.

Your grandfather’s dive bar this is not.

THE DIVE: 3123 Elliott St., 667-309-7501. HOURS: Tues.-Sat., 4 p.m. to 1 a.m. PRICES: Snacks and sandwiches: $4-14; pizzas: $12-16; desserts: $7.

The building and adjacent patio that house Bayside Cantina in Canton’s Tindeco Wharf development offers one of the most idyllic settings for waterfront drinking and dining in the city. That’s unquestionably an attribute, but one that might come with an asterisk. The two previous restaurant tenants—Raw Bar and Boathouse—struggled to fill the multiple and spacious dining rooms and seemed to be forgotten by customers when the weather was less than ideal.

If the early evidence is any indication of future success, Bayside Cantina, which opened in September, won’t have that problem. During several winter visits to the establishment, we found it to be comfortably crowded, with a warm neighborhood feel and multiple bars. That’s the vibe proprietor Carlos Cruz, who also owns Chilango’s Tequila Bar & Mexican Grill in Fells Point and Carlos O’Charlies in Highlandtown, is aiming for with the new concept.

“We are still trying to figure out how we’re going to make the space work, but it’s a great location,” says Cruz, who used to frequent the popular Bay Café, which preceded the two forgettable followers. “People want to be close to the water.”

But Cruz’s goal is to attract people for reasons more than the view. He’s doing just that with standard cantina offerings like margaritas, tacos, and burritos. While Bayside’s versions of those are quite good—all the food and drinks are made from scratch—its menu excels when you veer off the beaten path.

Take for example the Mescalita, a twist on a margarita that pairs mezcal, sour mix, and caramelized chile ancho syrup to create a smokey, hardy drink. The Bayside Manhattan uses tequila and chocolate bitters, while the Chicha Martini blends vodka infused with cinnamon, pineapple, and peppercorn, plus agave nectar. All are welcome reinterpretations that are made with care by bartenders like longtime Canton staple Kevin Bradley.

The guacamole is made using fresh vegetables and a plate of flautas, which are essentially Mexican eggrolls, and can work as an entree. Steamed shrimp, fried calamari, and crab dip also are available. Along with tacos (carnitas and chicken were the best varieties we tried), fajitas, and some more daring dishes like the Bistec Mexicano—a grilled flat-iron steak with jalapeños, on- ions, and peppers in a spicy tomato chili sauce—there’s a shrimp salad sandwich, perhaps a subtle nod to the Bay Café.

Cruz plans to build an outdoor kitchen to better service the tiki bar and plethora of outdoor tables that overlook the marina and Patapsco River. In the summer, he wants to host bands and occasionally a deejay outside. That should draw even more flip-flop wearing folks for whom nothing beats hanging out with a cold drink under blue skies. Cruz hopes that what they discover at Bayside Cantina will keep them coming back even when the sun sets on summer.

Canton resident Chris Broughton had a bright idea after he learned about the correlation between an uptick in crime and darkened city streets. Why not string cafe lights between rowhouses, providing both beauty and protection? The Canton Community Association’s Public Safety Task Force was excited, but with no funds, the idea just simmered. Tired of waiting, Broughton spent two months getting consent from all 24 of his neighbors, paid for the materials, and did all the labor himself. It was an instant hit.

How did the idea grow beyond your block?
I wrote a material list and posted it on the neighborhood Facebook pages: Here’s how you do it, here is a list of all the materials you need, if you have any questions ask me. Several people asked if they could pay me to do the labor, but I had a full-time job doing home renovations. But in July 2020, I was between projects, and I said, “Sure, I’ll do it.” It snowballed from there.

How many blocks have you “lit” since then?
I’ve done five dozen Canton blocks—so about 60 of the 300 blocks in my neighborhood. And between the other neighborhoods—Locust Point, Federal Hill, near Hopkins, the Baltimore Highlands, Govans—I’ve done 100 to 125 more blocks. For installs, I can usually do 20 houses in seven or eight hours. If I have a helper, it’s less time than that. I’m training three guys from three different city districts so they can do their own installs. I can’t do the entire city. Plus, I want to keep the money in the district where it comes from.

Speaking of, what’s the cost to illuminate a block?
The more houses, the cheaper it gets per house. My goal is $100 per house, including supplies and labor. For big installs, it’s way below that. Usually when someone says no, it’s monetary, but a lot of times the other people on the block are happy to cover their share. There’s also a lot of grant money for this in different neighborhoods. Plus, the city offers a small one, and so does BGE.

I assume aside from getting paid—this is part of your full-time job—there’s also an altruistic purpose?
I want to make the neighborhood prettier and safer to walk around at night. It’s an unintended consequence, but a lot of people are meeting their neighbors in the process of organizing this. They often end up meeting their whole block…and then a lot of them have a stoop-lighting party when it’s done. It creates more of a sense of community, too, and it shows people who are moving into the city that this block or this group of people care enough to put in the effort. I’ve had a lot of customers say, “Oh, my friend from the county or my friend from another state loved seeing the lights when they were down here, and it changed their impression of the city.”

Years ago, when she was working at Citibank in Baltimore, Joy Sivongxay’s grilled chicken and egg rolls became the most sought-after bites at office holiday parties.

“People would say I should open a restaurant,” says Sivongxay. “They’d say, ‘You should bring these flavors to Baltimore.’ And I said, ‘Well, I’d have to have more than just grilled chicken and egg rolls!’”

Fast forward to late April 2021. Sivongxay and her 21-year-old daughter, Vanessa Sipayboun, an accounting major at Community College of Baltimore County, sit side by side at a booth inside Charming Elephant in Canton.

Sipayboun was working at Baltimore Seafood when the owner of the restaurant, who also owns the building, decided to help her realize her family’s dream by renting them the space next door to open a Laotian restaurant. It would be the first restaurant in the Baltimore area to focus on the cuisine of that country. Last October, they opened their doors, while settling on the perfect moniker for the business.

“Before it was named Laos, the country was called Lan Xang, which means one million elephants,” says Sivongxay. “Elephants are considered good luck, and we were like, ‘We are in Baltimore City, we are in Charm City, so why not call it ‘Charming Elephant?’”

The restaurant is a family affair. Sipayboun owns and manages the restaurant, while her younger brother, Jason, 18, works as a server and oversees social media. A cousin, Le Valladares, is head chef. Yet another cousin cooks all of the vegetarian and vegan recipes brought back from a Buddhist temple in their country. For her part, Sivongxay, who came to America as a refugee, toils behind the scenes. Her husband, Khamphoui, who owns an insulation business, works weekends.

Most dishes can be prepared from mild to “Lao spicy,” though Sipayboun recommends starting off slowly, with a cuisine she describes as “the perfect balance of flavors with a lot of depth.” And though the menu does feature grilled chicken and egg rolls, there are myriad offerings, from the trifecta of Lao cuisine—sticky rice, papaya salad, and laap, which is minced meat atop lettuce leaves—to a selection of noodle dishes and the labor-intensive lao sausage, which takes a team to create, from mincing the meat to stuffing the casings.

In addition, there are dishes that are very much influenced by Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand—such as Pad Thai and pho. And for every dish, no shortcuts have been taken. The fermented fish sauce marinade for the spicy green papaya salad, for example, is handmade with palm sugar, crab paste, shrimp paste, anchovies, tamarind, and dried chili peppers.

“We make everything from scratch,” says Sivongxay. “We make the type of food I was raised how to cook, and this is how I cook it for my kids. We want our customers come in, we want them to experience how Lao people eat their food.”

Customers will also notice the monk-blessed, intricate “money tree” paintings hanging on the walls.

“We bought these in Lan Xang, where the Kingdom of Laos used to be,” explains Sivongxay. “They symbolize peace and prosperity.”

As smiling patrons slurp pho, it’s clear that both are present here.

CHARMING ELEPHANT 2325 Boston St., 443-708-7762. HOURS: Tues.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.- 9 p.m.; Sat. 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sun. 11:30- 9:30. PRICES: Appetizers: $6.25-9.50; entrees and noodle dishes: $12.25-27. AMBIANCE: Casual comfort.

Alice Visilia’s timing couldn’t have been worse. The day after she took ownership of Canton’s Cardinal Tavern on December 10, Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott decreed that all bars and restaurants could no longer offer indoor service, even at a limited capacity, and could remain open for carryout and delivery only.

So, carryout and delivery it was for Visilia, who has never been one to let a little speedbump in life slow her down. She started working at Mahaffey’s Pub as a bartender in 2007 before eventually rising to become a co-owner in 2018.

When she decided to sell her share of that firmly established business and stake out her own, she bought then-defunct Cardinal Tavern, located just a few blocks from her house, and embarked on creating the kind of bar she wanted as her neighbor.

“I don’t want a niche, I just want it to be a place where people feel comfortable coming by themselves if they want,” she says. “Maybe you like beer, maybe you like cocktails—we’ll have something for everybody.”

An impressive array of local and craft draft and bottled beers highlights a drink menu that includes cocktails like a Ferrero Rocher Chocolate Martini and a Dirty Greek Martini with feta cheese-stuffed olives.

Visilia is second-generation Greek, and the food menu features classics like chicken and lamb gyros, a chicken souvlaki platter, and authentic Greek village salad (there’s no lettuce). Although the word “fae,” Greek for “eat,” appears on the menu, this is not a Greek establishment.

Executive chef David Munyon, a Culinary Institute of America graduate who helmed the kitchen at the late-great Lobo in Fells Point, serves sophisticated dishes like barbecue grilled salmon along with more approachable ones like Monion dip, his cleverly named take on onion dip. There also are fresh versions of bar-food staples like burgers and wings.

Return visitors to Cardinal Tavern will remember the exposed brick walls and beautiful long wooden bar, which has a bourbon barrel built into one corner. The more subtle differences are upstairs, where a long row of booths was reupholstered and a play area for children has been added.

“Our No. 1 rule is the gate is not your babysitter,” says Visilia, who has a young son. While there are TVs on both levels, on which Visilia plans to show all the NFL games in the fall, Cardinal Tavern is not a sports bar. Visilia wants to create an environment in which a 5-year-old, 25-year-old, or 75-year-old feels equally welcome.

“One guy said to me, ‘I love that you introduce your customers to all the bartenders and the people they’re sitting next to,’” Visilia says. “I’ve always liked hosting. I like to make sure everybody is eating and drinking and having a good time.”

Today, six months after it opened in the worst of circumstances, Visilia is well on her way to making Cardinal Tavern one of Canton’s most popular neighborhood bars.

Lydia Chang greets me with an offer of tea. She’s seated at table No. 22 in the empty dining room of NiHao, the revolutionary new Chinese restaurant she co-owns in Canton, and even on a cold December morning, her warmth is apparent.

“It’s half pu’er, which is a Chinese black tea,” she says, as she sips from her own cup. “If it’s harvested today, you can drink it, but over time, it can last over 20 years. Something like this could be as valuable as a glass of vintage red wine.”

So, is this one worth big bucks?

“No, this one is pretty new,” she says, as she lets out a surprisingly substantial belly laugh considering her diminutive size. While the 5-foot-3-inch Chang may be small in stature, her reputation in the culinary world has been growing since she opened NiHao in July, in the middle of the pandemic. In November, Esquire placed it fourth on its list of best new restaurants in America. An impressive achievement, for sure, but even in that brief, 104-word write-up, hers was not the first Chang name mentioned. That was her famous father, chef Peter Chang, described as “the elusive Mid-Atlantic legend of Szechuan cuisine.”

His would be rather gargantuan footsteps to follow. Luckily, his only child isn’t trying. She’s a key part of his empire, and at NiHao, she’s leading the charge. Lydia Chang, 33, is a manager, marketer, front-of-the-house designer, menu shaper, and visionary. Basically, she does everything in the restaurant business—except cook. At NiHao, which is a part of her father’s company, her business partner, executive chef Pichet Ong, mans the kitchen.

“I like to say I am an excellent eater,” she says, letting out another of those laughs. “I spend more time eating out, tasting, doing R and D. Cooking is something I know I would never be able to compete with in my family. I withdraw myself from that competition.”

So far, her efforts are paying off. NiHao is wildly popular, and at least one important observer has certainly taken notice. You don’t need to read in between the lines to understand that her father had reservations about his daughter’s vision, if not her abilities.

“I was prepared and ready for the cleanup and aftermaths of a failure,” Peter Chang writes via email, his preferred method of communication. “I thought to myself, there’s only a 30 percent chance it could turn out to be a [sound] business. She could come to me one day begging for help or money. However, I still need to give her a chance to prove herself. I was observing from a distance and patiently waiting for the moment to come. Well, now we know, NiHao is on the journey to become its own thing—very different from what I have done. Of course, I’m pleased and admire her courage. Without much of my involvement, she pulled it off.”

Born in China, Lydia Chang grew up in the city of Wuhan, capital of Hubei province. Despite the fact that both her parents were chefs, it was her grandmother’s cooking that shaped her then admittedly bland palate. Her favorite dish was ground pork—“I liked it very, very dry over rice,” she says.

“Mom and dad were like visitors because they were working so much,” she says. “Dad has a schedule, he goes away to work for 10 days, comes back for one-and-a-half days. He was a chef working for a cruise company along the Yangtze River. Mom worked as a pastry chef sometimes from 5 a.m. to 6 p.m.”

She lived with her grandma until she was 14, when her parents brought her to Washington, D.C., where her father was the chef at the Chinese vice ambassador’s residence. She knew little English (she speaks Mandarin and the dialect of Wuhanese) but was excited for the opportunity to experience a new culture. She assimilated to American life easily, helped by watching Disney movies and the fact that she made friends in her English as a Second Language (ESL) class at Woodrow Wilson High School.

The toughest adjustment was one many 14-year-olds struggle with—living with her parents, whom she wasn’t used to having around all the time. One perk: They cooked her daily meals. Her father’s baked cod with breadcrumbs became a favorite. The butter, soy, and pickled chili flavors in the dish began to awaken her taste buds.

After high school, Chang was on the move again. She attended King’s College in London, where she earned a business degree. She relished the art, history, and food in the city, where Cantonese cooking is a staple. During this time, her father’s fame began to grow. He worked at restaurants throughout the southeastern United States, displaying such a prowess (and a reputation for restlessness) that national publications like The New Yorker ran fawning pieces headlined “Where’s Chang?” and “Chef Peter Chang Disappears Again.”

In 2011, he opened his first eponymous restaurant, in Charlottesville, Virginia. It was an instant hit, and he began having conversations with his daughter overseas about the financial side of the business. Her suggestions centered on marketing and providing customers with a reason to come back.

ESQUIRE PLACED NIHAO FOURTH ON ITS LIST OF BEST NEW RESTAURANTS IN AMERICA.

“He liked to keep me updated with everything that was going on,” she says. “I don’t even know how much of my advice went into the way he’s doing things, but he liked for me to be engaged.”

After graduating from college in 2013, she went back to China to visit her grandmother and work as an intern in the banking industry, which she quickly realized wasn’t for her. So, at the beginning of 2014, she returned to the United States and joined her father’s company as a general manager trainee at his poorly performing restaurant in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

“That was like, ‘You are new, I can’t put you somewhere that is already super busy that’s on the right track, you might create more problems,’” she says. “That was a time when I saw we had so many restaurants in different markets, but we were doing the same dishes. I realized that you could have the same brand with a similar menu with equally tasty food, but every market responds differently to who you are.”

After stabilizing that restaurant, largely by emphasizing customer service, she left to become GM of the new Peter Chang in Arlington. It was a smashing success on a level the family hadn’t previously experienced. Glowing reviews in Washingtonian and The Washington Post led to lines out the door and phones that never stopped ringing. Still, the family didn’t think this was the time to slow down.

In 2017, they opened Q in Bethesda. Her father wanted to name it “Qijian,” a Chinese word for “flagship.” His daughter convinced him otherwise. “I said, ‘I don’t think people can remember that. Why don’t we just take the first letter, Q? It’s very easy to remember.’”

Next came Mama Chang, a restaurant that serves the style of Chinese food Lydia remembers from her childhood. At first, her father was not thrilled by the concept.

“I was not on board with the direction of the menu at the beginning—the homestyle cuisine,” he writes. “She proved me wrong—it was well-received and accepted by diners and food critics alike. It’s quite obvious that she knows what the market wants. She was able to communicate a unified message with the media, diners, and followers to understand what I’m trying to do with Chinese cuisine. Chinese cuisine is diverse and multi-layered in tastes, texture, execution, and flavors—she becomes the voice and the storyteller. We can operate different concepts due to her understanding and knowledge in these markets.”

By then, Lydia had met Ong, who worked for the company and had become a friend. The pair started discussing opening a restaurant in Baltimore, a city of which they had grown fond from frequent visits. “As I started to spend my weekends here, I liked the museums, the parks,” she says. “I feel like this city has so much artistic and cultural attraction. It’s very diverse.”

They bought the former Fork & Wrench building in Canton, but transforming it to fit their vision of a sophisticated, yet comfortable restaurant took much longer than they anticipated. Then the pandemic hit. It was a formula for failure, but Chang never allowed herself or her team to feel defeated.

“I think she represents the new generation of restaurant operator. She’s very open-minded,” Ong says. “A lot of times, you have an emotional response to something, but she doesn’t think like that. She thinks more about what’s best for the business. That makes a difference.”

When COVID-19 began ravaging the restaurant business, Chang knew she had to pivot. She hauled the old Fork & Wrench furniture out of storage and challenged her team to think about how they could refinish it. They painted chairs and tables and created a communal table with advertisements and postcards printed from Google. They were able to project the homey feeling that Chang loves, even though she hasn’t been able to share it with guests very often. When it opened, NiHao was strictly takeout and delivery, even at a time when outdoor and some indoor dining was permitted, primarily out of her concern for the safety of her employees.

“NIHAO IS SOMETHING THAT WAS NEEDED ON THE BALTIMORE FOOD SCENE.”

“NiHao is something that was definitely needed in the Baltimore food scene,” says Steve Chu, owner of Ekiben, which has done pop-ups with NiHao. “They bring something different. The interior of that space is absolutely gorgeous. When people go there and people try the food for themselves, they’ll know.”

Despite the obstacles, NiHao’s food was the talk of the city’s culinary scene from the moment its first Peking duck was sliced. (Some people place their duck order online just after midnight to ensure that they’ll have one for dinner the next night. NiHao has been known to sell out of the birds.)

Chang bristles, albeit smilingly, when asked to pigeonhole the region of Chinese cuisine her restaurant serves. Rather than describe it as Szechuan or Cantonese, she prefers to label it “contemporary” Chinese.

Here you won’t find 10 different kinds of fried rice or every variety of noodle dish known to man.

“We focus a lot on the quality ingredients,” she says. “The flavors have the Chinese flavor as the fundamentals, but it’s our take on how it works with the modern cooking techniques. Generally, Chinese food is cooked on the wok. The heat is super high, and you would add all the flavors as you cook the dishes. However, here we try to do more of a western way of cooking all the sauces.”

Peter Chang says he has had a minimal impact on the menu. He visits the restaurant once a month to conduct cooking demonstrations and taste new menu items. The signature Peking duck recipe is his, but other takes, like the blue-crab steamed buns and Chinese meatballs, made with minced pork, sticky rice, water chestnuts, ginger, and salted egg yolk and served with daikon, are Ong’s and Lydia’s.

The two have eaten their way around Shanghai and Thailand together. Lydia, who’s an American citizen, is truly a citizen of the world, a fact she thinks helps her relate to people from all backgrounds.

“My dad likes to say you grew up in China, you have this Eastern part in you, but you developed most of your adolescence here in the U.S. and you went to school in England. Your value system is essentially formed in the Western culture,” she says. “I like to say I am bridging those gaps. I’m able to respect what the Chinese value or tradition says about respecting the elderly and the strong family values, but at the same time, the Western culture has taught me to be independent, to express how you feel.”

Her father, sometimes reluctant to offer praise, believes she has what it takes to succeed in a business in which he already thrives.

“She found her passion and interests while working on creating different concepts,” he notes. “She has become a restaurateur in her own way. She has the potential to achieve many things.”

Clearly, she’s off to a hell of a start.

A little bit of Manhattan is coming to Canton.

Eyeing a September 4 opening, new restaurant Fuisine—located in the former home of The Regal Beagle on Elliott Street—aims to be a neighborhood spot with a splash of fine dining, as much of the atmosphere is inspired by owner and executive chef John Creger’s years working many different kitchens in New York City.

When it opens for carryout, delivery, and limited seating, Fuisine will offer seasonal, scratch-made offerings and modern takes on a few classic dishes. “I’ll literally be the one cooking every night in the kitchen,” Creger says.

Diners can expect such items as fresh pastas and risottos, Creger’s take on a chicken fricassee and crab dip arancini (large fried rice balls stuffed with his crab dip, a popular item from when Creger hosted pop-ups around Baltimore). Fuisine’s cocktail menu will also skew seasonal and non-traditional (curry cauliflower daiquiri, anyone?) and will offer local spirits.

The goal of Fuisine, Creger says, is to marry his fine-dining cooking experience with a laidback element.

“With the elevated food and cocktails, it’s about bringing that culmination of knowledge and experience gained [in New York] and executing it here now,” he says.

Fuisine has been years in the making. Creger says he drew the logo, a large tree, in 2011 while in New York.

“The tree was just kind of always about my roots in what I do and growth,” he says. “My whole family has been in this business. My dad is a chef and still is. Both of my sisters were, one a baker and one a chef. And my mother, who passed away when I was nine, was an Italian home cook and a waitress at Sabatino’s in Little Italy.”

When Creger returned to Baltimore in 2018, he lived in Ellicott City while he settled in. He then moved near Patterson Park and was eyeing the area for his restaurant. Creger says he got to talking with an old friend, the owner of The Regal Beagle, and—wanting to move on from the cocktail bar—he sold the space to Creger and his business partner, who is also a longtime friend of Creger’s mother.

Fuisine had plans to open in late 2019, but Creger says the complete front-to-back, top-to-bottom gut renovation and securing permits caused delays.

Then, in what was surely every restaurant owner’s worst nightmare, the COVID-19 pandemic hit full force this past March, shutting down restaurants and other hospitality businesses with it.

“It turned into just trying to get all the pieces together,” Creger says. He had to wait even longer for inspections from the health and fire departments, and one inspection was even conducted virtually. When Fuisine opens imminently, Creger says guests will receive temperature checks at the door and sanitation protocols will be in place.

“I made it this far,” he says. “I want to be extremely safe about opening up to the public, and as eager as I am to get open, it’s more important to be safe.”

When stepping into the interior, guests will see how the space mixes old and new—the bar is historic, and Creger says it couldn’t be altered. Much of everything else has been updated for aesthetic and functional reasons. “To say that the kitchen got an update is putting it really lightly,” Creger adds.

On the exterior, the Fuisine tree logo is painted prominently on the side of the building and is also incorporated on the inside on the same wall.

Now that the doors to Fuisine are almost ready to open, Creger says he’s appreciative of the neighborhood that’s been so welcoming. “As much as I do fine dining, I want Fuisine to be a neighborhood spot, too.”

While Canton’s Alma Cocina Latina has transformed itself into a carryout arepa bar, husband-and-wife owners Mark Demshak and Irena Stein have also been focused on helping their back-of-the-house staff, most of whom don’t qualify for benefits, find employment. In addition to working at Alma, four of their staffers are also working in collaboration with Mera Kitchen Collective, a community-driven, food-based cooperative focused on empowerment for refugee and immigrant women.

Using the commercial kitchen at Neopol Smokery, Mera has been providing up to 700 free meals a day for Baltimore communities in need. “It’s one thing to sell food and feel the love and support that you get from of the community,” says Demshak. “What we’ve done with Mera Kitchen and the staff fills the heart.”

I know that several of your staffers have not been able to come into the kitchen to help with carryout. Can you talk about that?
IS: Our executive chef, Karem Barragan, is pregnant. She’s home—she places the orders for the kitchen. And then our sous chef, David Zamudio, who is Venezuelan is stuck in Spain. If we had an executive chef with us, we could do a lot more, but we can’t. Our back-of-the-house kitchen is extremely well-trained by our chefs, so they can run the whole thing beautifully, but we could have more ideas implemented if Karem and David were there.

“Mera Kitchen is now feeding thousands of people. In three weeks, they did 6,300 meals and four of our team players are there during the day.” —Irena Stein

How is your staff doing?
IS: Basically, we have three categories of employees: We have the people who have gone on unemployment, we have the people [with visas] with exceptional talent who cannot get unemployment, and then we have those who don’t have access to any of those benefits.

We are trying to avoid hunger among anyone. The situation here reminds me very much of the Venezuelan reality of no food, no toilet paper, no medical assistance. I never expected the U.S. to be on the same page as Venezuela, but this is so familiar for me.

This was a little easier for me to handle because I already know my priorities. Priority number one is that everyone has to be fed. The people who have the least possibility of income are the people whom we will support the most—those people on the hourly wages without access to services. Their children have to be fed. We employ them, rotating them in the kitchen with takeout and preparing the food, and then Mera Kitchen is now feeding thousands of people. In three weeks, they did 6,300 meals and four of our team players are there during the day. Between what we have going at Alma and what Mera offers them, they are fine. It’s a huge relief—that means they have food on the table.

Mera is based on a lot of Syrian and Eritrean food. Now, they have included our people. So you have Central American food, too. So these migrants are feeding the hungry in Baltimore, which I find fascinating. Our Mexican and Guatemalan guys have done Mexican food—they are all taking initiatives rotating the things that they do. And our chef who is stranded in Spain used to work on a cruise ship. He is giving them advice on how to cook for hundreds of people a day. You have all these nationalities serving this population in Cherry Hill.

“Mera is based on a lot of Syrian and Eritrean food. Now, they have included our people. So you have Central American food, too. So these migrants are feeding the hungry in Baltimore, which I find fascinating.”—Irena Stein

Did you have a relationship with Mera Kitchen Collective before this?
IS: We collaborated in the past doing Syrian and Venezualan food, which is perfect because we have a small Syrian community in Venuzuela. Two years ago, we did a collaboration “Damascus Meets Caracas.” [Co-founder] Emily [Lerman] and I became very close friends—we think alike in so many ways of supporting community. Alma and Mera Kitchen are just a natural combination. When this came along, I said to her, ‘If you ever have room for more people because your community is growing, we have these people who really need work.’ She said, ‘Absolutely,’ and now we have four guys from our kitchen working there every day.

MD: What’s interesting is that the people Emily was employing before were refugees. She was employing them to give them a livelihood—they weren’t necessarily trained chefs or line cooks. They didn’t necessarily have experience in catering, so what she found with our guys there is that it raised the level of the kitchen. Their payroll has been reduced significantly because they are moving faster, so she has more money to spend on food.

IS: Once this is over, she’s going to send her prospective team to Alma to train for a few months. To see these Latino guys working with the Syrian chefs and this other woman from Eritrea, you have these cultures that are completely different existing with no language—just sign language—and it creates understanding of other cultures and other mentalities. I love the humanity of it. All of these things have always mattered to us, but to have it in full display with this collaboration has been really wonderful. The guys are so appreciative of being able to work over there and every dollar becomes something important. As long as no one goes hungry, we have won.

“What we’ve done with Mera Kitchen and the staff fills the heart.” —Mark Demshak

How is your carryout going at Alma?
MD: Right now, we are functioning much more like an arepa bar you’d find in Caracas.

IS: The community has been lovely. I know we could be making more money if the chefs were around, but we do what we are doing the best we can. Some people are coming from 25 minutes away and we don’t want them to have a bad experience, so we are giving them instructions on heating the arepas. Some people will tell their building or their neighbors and they come on behalf of several families, which is so wonderful. We’ve also added cocktails and sangria.

Did you consider not doing carryout?
MD: We did consider not doing carryout for a split second. We thought let’s at least try it—we have things that you can carry out. If we didn’t have arepas, it would be much more difficult, because we don’t have our chefs here. Our line cooks are really extraordinary.

IS: It’s the legacy of [former executive chef] Enrique Limardo. Our executive chef and the chef had such a good experience learning under him.

“As long as no one goes hungry, we have won.” —Irena Stein

What will happen when Alma reopens for full service?
IS: We can’t answer clearly. We are concerned that it will be hard to have the restaurant be as full as it should be. [We don’t know what this will] mean to the city, the economy, and people going to restaurants. We have to see if we can do the menu the same way.

MD: We will continue to do take-out once we reopen. We’ve set it up in such a way that it’s a feasible business. At this point, it will be another revenue stream, so we will continue that.

With mandated closures and practices of social distancing sweeping the state, Baltimoreans are forced to adapt to their new normal amid the coronavirus outbreak.

Here, we take a look at city spaces that were once full—congested Inner Harbor streets now silent, stocked grocery store shelves now barren, bustling restaurants now indefinitely shut down—as Charm City slows down to minimize the spread of COVID-19.

“Can I give you a heart?” Shelley Brown, a local wellbeing facilitator and speaker, asks the stream of patrons entering Lighthouse Liquors in Canton. While many decline, some brighten and carefully pluck a red enamel heart pin from her gloved palm.

“I don’t know what else to do for humanity,” she explains to passerbys. The pins are a symbol of mindfulness, as Brown encourages those who carry them to practice being present. “With everything that’s going on, our fear and our panic take us into the future of things that we actually have no control over. You can hold space for that emotion and notice it, but also remember you’re right here, right now.”

It was a scene that surely was playing out in thousands of bars around the country. People perched on stools, washing down a late dinner or early midnight snack with an ice-cold beer while watching the World Series.

But at the newest contender to fill the ever-revolving space between Canton stalwarts Nacho Mama’s and Mama’s on the Half Shell, the baseball wasn’t accompanied by burgers and Bud Lights. Inside, the smell of naan bread baking in a tandoor oven filled Spice Squared.

Chicken momos (traditional Nepalese dumplings), not chicken wings, were the appetizer of choice, and they were washed down with a 22-ounce bottle of Taj Mahal Premium Lager.

I’ve been to dozens of Indian restaurants, most of which have small bars, but until that rainy Halloween Eve, I’d never been to a bar that specializes in Indian food. And make no mistake—while Spice Squared does have a dining room, it’s more bar than restaurant.

Eight large TVs hanging behind the spacious rectangular bar make it an ideal spot to park, watch games, and enjoy a drink. Live music is featured on Wednesday and Friday nights, and all beer, wine, and liquor offerings are half off during happy hour.

There’s a large selection of domestic, imported, and craft brews, as well as a food menu that includes non-Indian staples such as nachos, quesadillas, mozzarella sticks, and a quirky cocktail list.

The pumpkin mule, made with vanilla vodka, pumpkin purée and spice, and ginger
beer, was the perfect concoction for a chilly fall night. An apple cider mojito also warmed both the bones and the soul, but not nearly as much as the malai kabob, a plate of chicken pieces marinated in sour-cream butter sauce that was served sizzling.

When we ordered shrimp karahi, our bartender, Maverick (yes that’s his real name, and, yes, he’s named after Tom Cruise’s character in Top Gun), asked us if we wanted it mild, medium, hot, or exotic. That’s not a question one usually has to answer after ordering potato skins.

Co-owners and brothers Dhiraj and Vijay Kunwar serve authentic food in a lively atmosphere that’s welcoming to all. As singer Grey Smith wailed a Johnny Cash tune while strumming his guitar, I popped a shrimp pakora into my mouth, took a swig of beer, glanced at the ballgame, and thought, what could be more American than this?

[Editor’s Note: Though Spice Squared has announced plans to rebrand as Good Life Cafe later this year, the restaurant will maintain its current concept through February.]

[Editor’s Note: Since press time, Raw & Refined has closed for the season, but will remain open for private parties and events until it resumes regular hours in April.]

The overlaps between Raw Bar and Raw & Refined—two Canton waterfront establishments that opened within days and feet of each other earlier this year—run even deeper than their comically similar names.

For starters, both put an emphasis on raw seafood, from oysters to ceviche. Then there are the cocktail menus, which each include a Paloma, sangria, and several other sweet, tropical libations that people tend to crave when they’re drinking in the great outdoors. (In this case, at Lighthouse Point along the Patapsco River.) Both are trying to succeed in locations where previous restaurants died, pinning their hopes on what the former inhabitants did as well: the irresistible allure of eating and drinking outside near the water.

Raw Bar (2809 Boston St., 443-708-7961) brought to you by the team that runs Barcocina and Bond Street Social, is in the home of the former Boathouse Canton. It’s a sprawling complex that includes ample outdoor seating, a semi-enclosed outdoor bar, and indoor dining room and bar. In addition to its namesake, Raw Bar offers shared plates and an array of New England-style seafood sandwiches. On our visits, twenty and thirty-somethings sat at the outdoor bar, while music competed with loud conversations.

During one outing in July, our friendly server offered a blank stare when we asked what differentiated the oysters available that night, which struck us as odd for a place named Raw Bar. A beer, one Sagamore lemonade—a whiskey, honey, simple syrup, mint, and lemonade concoction that was unremarkable but inoffensive—and a half-dozen oysters cost $44, including tax and tip; a setting this sublime doesn’t come cheaply.

Nor does it at the nearly adjacent Raw & Refined (2723 Lighthouse Pte., 410-387- 4377) where the cocktails are meticulously made. The indoor space is cheerful, and the restaurant’s delightful outdoor bar is adjacent to a pool and overlooks a marina.

It doesn’t get more nautical than that. Most of the cocktails we’ve tried have been quite refreshing, including Telly’s melon seltzer ($11), a combination of watermelon vodka, watermelon, basil, simple syrup, and lime. While the restaurant is better run than Button, the space’s previous inhabitant, the food can be hit or miss. Best to sit outside, soak up the scene, and stick to dishes like tuna tartare, which, of course, is served raw.

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.”

OPEN

Raw & Refined: It’s going to be a great summer for dockside dining in Canton. On the heels of the news that the team behind Barcocina and Bond Street Social have taken over the Boathouse Canton, there’s also been a revival in the former home of Button adjacent to Swim Club. Officially opening this weekend, the nautical-themed seafood spot highlights a gallery of local artwork and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto the waterfront patio. The worldly menu was inspired by Chef Patrick Morrow and owner Dominic Lascola, who wanted the food to have Latin American and Caribbean influences.

“Everyone labels Baltimore as a seafood town, but everything is overtly crab-centric,” Lascola said in a statement. “We saw this as an opportunity to elevate what Baltimore is known for but feature new and creative flavors within the genre.” Dishes will include wood-fired mahi mahi, tuna tartare cannoli with ancho chili sauce, an open-faced Cubano, elote-inspired grilled oysters infused with chili lime butter and cotija, and a play on a Uruguayan chivito sandwich with steak, ham, egg, and olives. Of course, the spot will also be a go-to for summer sips like fruity Crushes and rum Old Fashioneds. 2723 Lighthouse Point.

Taco Bravo: We’ve seen a number of Tex-Mex spots sprout up in Baltimore County throughout the past few months, but the latest taqueria in the Padonia Village Shopping Center has a more authentic slant. The new Timonium hangout from the owners of Taco Daddy Cantina in Frederick and Gaithersburg opened earlier this week, highlighting white fish ceviche, corn tortillas filled with carnitas and lamb barbacoa, Estrella Jalisco Mexican beer, and smoky mezcal margaritas. Interior touches like hung greenery and bull-riding decor cement the theme. 31 E. Padonia Rd. Ste E. 443-689-7979

NEWS

Ekiben Vending at Smorgasburg in Washington, D.C.: Fells Point’s own steamed bun superheroes are spreading the love to the District this summer. Ekiben is one of 30 food vendors that will set up shop at the recurring Smorgasburg market at the Tingey Plaza in Navy Yard. The outdoor food extravaganza has gained tons of traction since it launched in New York and Los Angeles, and it’s starting its first season in D.C. off right with regional purveyors peddling everything from bao buns and boba to skewers and spiral-cut hot dogs. The market kicks off on June 15 and will continue every Saturday until October.

First Two Stalls Open at Cross Street Market: The day that South Baltimore locals have been waiting months for is finally here. Veteran vendors Fenwick’s Choice Meats and Steve’s Lunch have both officially reopened inside the renovated Cross Street Market. Twenty additional concepts—including a newly announced Royal Farms fried chicken stall—are expected to roll out through the summer. For now, diners can stroll through the revitalized space to check out the upgrades while grabbing some classic diner fare at Steve’s Lunch, or picking up specialty cuts from Fenwick’s. 1065 S. Charles St.

Chef Carlos Raba Featured in Men’s Journal: Don’t be surprised to see a familiar face while flipping through the June issue of this national lifestyle publication. Chef Carlos Raba of Clavel was featured in a piece that discusses some of his favorite things, which include hibiscus flowers, Frosted Flakes, and—unsurprisingly—ceviche and mezcal. “Grateful for my culture and to be able to represent my family, my interests, and my life with everyone,” the Sinaloan-born chef wrote on Instagram. Cheers to Raba on the grrrreat recognition.

EPICUREAN EVENTS

5/30: Evening of Traditional Beverages
Homewood Museum’s annual event delving into the history of local spirits is back for its 23rd year—this time with a focus on Maryland rum. Gather inside Mudd Hall’s atrium on the Johns Hopkins University campus to sample rums from distilleries including Blackwater, Lost Ark, Lyon, Old Line, and Tobacco Barn in Southern Maryland—which ages its barrels on the hull of the U.S.S. Constellation. Plus, there will be light bites from Woodberry Kitchen, live calypso music, and a talk about the trajectory and impact of Maryland rum by historian Kyle Dalton. 3400 N. Charles St. 6-8 p.m. $40-50. 410-516-5589

SHUT

Tiki Barge: Memorial Day Weekend marks the official return of many harborside bars around town, but this outdoor drinking destination won’t be one of them. Owner Dan Naor recently confirmed to The Sun that the Inner Harbor barge, which includes its own bar and swimming pool, is not reopening this summer. Since its debut in 2010, the floating marina bar became known as an oasis to sip tiki drinks while taking in panoramic views of the city. However, soon after opening, it was met with complaints from HarborView residents about noise, illegal parking, and other disruptive behavior. There’s no word yet on whether Tiki Barge will make a comeback in the future, but the property is listed for sale at a price of $1 million and we’ve heard rumors of a possible local buyer. 500 Harborview Drive

Searching for the perfect gift or a little something to bring the life to a party can be a stressful task, but pop over to Canton Square and find the one-stop gift shop that’ll be sure to ease your gift shopping angst. Best Day Ever is a gift shop full of unforgettable trinkets for every special occasion. We sat down with owner Morgan Chapin to chat about how the Maine native is embracing Baltimore, her favorite items in the store, and what it’s like running a small business.

How did Best Day Ever get its start?
I decided to move to Maryland with my friends, and I wanted a career change—it was either change your career now or don’t ever do it. I always wanted to open up a retail store, and I was going to tons of baby showers, weddings, and housewarmings, so that’s kind of where the idea of having different sections came from.

Shopping for other people can be tricky! What is one tip you could give to people shopping for unique gifts?
You know your friends better than you think you do. I say, don’t over think it either; you know your friends, don’t stress about it.

If someone was from out of town, what’s one Baltimore gift you’d want them to leave with?
It’s always nice to support local people when you can. I have these Boh wall hangings done by a local artist, The Painted Mermaid. I also have coasters that are pretty cool. They’re only $4 each, and you can mix and match them. They’re easy to fit in your suitcase and not breakable.

What gifts are quick and easy but still thoughtful and personal?
People always come in and get alcohol-related gifts. I have wine straws that are also cards or lots of wine glasses with funny sayings. I think a card can make a big difference in someone’s day.

What’s it like running a small business in Baltimore City?
I think it’s exciting. You get to meet so many interesting people, and you can really make people’s day when they find the perfect gift.

Since you should never arrive at a party empty-handed, what is your favorite go-to gift?
B.Willow just opened a location in Canton, so we’ve been into planters a lot. Not only can you get a planter here, but you can also get it planted at B.Willow—so you’re supporting another business. Plus, with all this rain, something green and nice can brighten up your day.

What would you say sets Best Day Ever apart from the average gift store?
It’s a one-stop shop. If you have a wedding to go to, a baby shower, and a housewarming, you can come here and get it all done in one shop. I also try to keep our prices reasonable and fair. I have some more expensive items, but I do also have a lot of things that I think are pretty affordable for anyone’s budget.

Summer is fast approaching! What are some backyard barbecue essentials?
I am obsessed with this personally, but I have this “Lets Day Drink” drink dispenser. I always think it’s fun to drink out of fun cups, too. I had a mug that said “Let’s keep things professional,” so drinking from a mug for day drinking. I also just got in a “Get Your Buns Ready” platter for a barbecue. And I’m all about the cozies as well, we have one that’s insulated so if you put it in the freezer it keeps it a little extra cool.

What has been the most fun part about running Best Day Ever?
I love shopping, so I think buying for the store is the best part and, really, meeting other people. There’s always something going on. Everyone who comes in always gives recommendations on places to go and things to do.

The news was devastating. Last summer, chef Ted Stelzenmuller announced that Jack’s Bistro—for a decade one of Canton’s finest restaurants, and definitely its funkiest one—was closing. But before his fans had a chance to mourn, he delivered a reprieve: He planned to open a new eatery just a few blocks away.

When Blair’s on Hudson served its first helpings of Jack’s staples, such as chocolate mac and cheese and udon noodles with bacon, mushrooms, onions, and jalapeños in January, Stelzenmuller devotees breathed a sigh of relief. We were among them. The magic was back. A mural on the outside of the corner rowhouse restaurant hails Blair’s as the “Home of the Guinness Filet,” so, during one of our spring visits, we couldn’t resist ordering it. This decadent dish is indeed worth praising on the side of a building. The tender meat and creamy bacon grits are comfort food at its finest.

We returned for a third time after the restaurant’s summer break (the annual week off is one reason Stelzenmuller’s friendly and talented staff have remained so loyal). Blair’s reopened with a revamped menu that will change on a regular basis. We began our meal with two of the new appetizers: spicy shrimp and a cold jumbo lump crab and cheese ball. Both were quite good, but the shrimp stood out for the complexity of its chili, garlic, and butter sauce.

The eclectic selection of burger and chicken sandwiches remains. We opted for the bánh mì burger, an eight-ounce patty served with hoisin sauce, pickled vegetables, cilantro, mint, and basil. It arrived perfectly prepared to our tastes (slightly red in the middle) and was terrific. Sandwiches (including a Thai BBQ pork one) are accompanied by house-smoked fries, which smell slightly like Scotch (and are almost as addictive).

A wide variety of entrees are available, including the unappetizingly named Garbage Plate. While it’s not particularly aesthetically pleasing either, the combination of a quarter-pound beef patty with American cheese and pork sausage smothered with hot sauce atop a bed of French fries and pasta salad is legendary grub in Stelzenmuller’s hometown of Rochester, New York. He’s done its century-long legacy proud.

Blair’s has a casual, neighborhood feel. Happy hour runs daily from 5-7 p.m., which means all burgers are $10 and Natty Bohs—one of the house beers, which include lagers from both China and Singapore—are just $2. (It’s no coincidence that the acronym for the restaurant is BOH.)

Similar in size to Jack’s (which is to say, quite cozy), Blair’s has retained its forerunner’s sense of whimsy. “Seriously, please do not order this. It is far too spicy to consume,” advises a menu note below the Hotter Than Hell Burger. We plan to ignore that advice when we return to what has become one of Canton’s finest and, yes, funkiest restaurants.

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BLAIR’S ON HUDSON. 2822 Hudson St., 443-939-2440.
HOURS: Thur.-Fri. 5-10 p.m., Sat. 11 a.m.-3 p.m., 5-10 p.m., Sun. 11 a.m.-3 p.m., 5-10 p.m. PRICES: Appetizers: $8.50-18; entrees: $14-36; desserts: $5.50-9.
AMBIANCE: Neighborhood spot.

This isn’t personal. Chris Davis is a nice guy. We featured the chiseled, handsome (um, former) slugger in our annual O’s preview in 2014 and like everybody else desperately wanted the Orioles to lock him up with a long-term deal after his 47-HR, 117-RBI season in 2015.

But boy, yeah, be careful what you wish for.

As fans certainly realize by now, Davis is in the midst of an epically bad year. A year marked not by peaks and valleys, but valleys and ravines. Maybe the worst year ever in major league baseball history. We think ESPN analyst Dan Szymborski was the first to make the case, pointing out last week that Davis is on pace for an fWAR statistical season [Wins Above Replacement] that would rank him 81,892 out of 81,892 player-seasons since 1901. By a significant margin.

In fact, since Szymborski’s deep dive into Davis’ putrid performance—a MLB-low .150 batting average and just 15 RBIs—things have only gotten worse. He struck out three times Monday in an 0-5 outing against the Red Sox Monday and then got sat for the past two games.

How bad have things gotten? Bartender’s Pub in Canton has decided to give away free shots to the entire bar any time Davis gets a hit. Co-owner Danny Coker, a die-hard Orioles fan, says he wanted to do something to reward his regulars that take in these bleak baseball games night after night. The O’s are on track for 116 losses and obviously Davis isn’t the only problem—just the most glaring.

“Remember that 13-3 game against Toronto?” Coker said. “We literally turned it off in the bar to watch NCAA track and field. Just to watch anything else. That got us thinking, we’ve got all these great customers and I’m a nut baseball fan, we’ve gotta do something to make it easier to go through this crap.”

Coker’s solution was that any time Davis gets a hit, each patron will get a free Dr. Pepper shot, or what he calls “an old Highlandtown treat,” a mix of amaretto and Miller High Life. Though the promotion technically started Monday, Davis hasn’t yet been in the starting lineup.

“Do I hope he goes 4-4? Hell yeah!” says Coker, who owns the bar with his wife Dana. “It might not be great for business, but anything to keep Orioles fans happy. This makes it a little easier to digest. And maybe we can all catch a good buzz for god’s sake.”

You certainly don’t have to be Jim Palmer—who called out Davis for his failure to work during the offseason with hitting coach Scott Coolbaugh—to recognize that Davis is tying himself into knots at the plate, letting good pitches go by while chasing balls way out of the strike zone at bat after at bat.

“[Davis] is so wound up psychologically, you can see it in his swing. Hopefully he hears about this, laughs a bit, and loosens up,” Coker said.

The worst of it is that the O’s still owe Davis something akin to $92 million over next four years. His deal is complicated; with deferred payments, the team will pay Davis until 2037, at which point he’ll be 51. And hopefully out of this slump.

Additional reporting was contributed by digital editor Jess Mayhugh.

When it was over—amid the triumphant rings of the tip-turned-celebration bell behind the bar, the popping of champagne bottles, and the dizzy celebration of the room full of red-clad fans—Hudson Street Stackhouse owner Dom DeSantis made like Washington Capitals captain Alex Ovechkin on the TVs above him and hoisted an empty keg over his head as if it were the Stanley Cup. “It’s unreal,” DeSantis said about a half hour later, as the celebration continued and midnight approached. “I’m so excited for this.”

In their 44th year of existence and following many recent years of frustration, the Capitals were finally champions. That sentence may carry different weight depending on your fondness for our nearby city to the south, its sports teams, and specifically hockey. But if you were the 100 or so fans who packed 2626 Hudson St. in Canton, a designated “Caps House,” as the banner atop the building said, the emotions were clear late Thursday night.

You anxiously watched through the first two periods that ended with the homestanding Vegas Golden Knights (yep, they’re a thing) leading 3-2, then screamed and cheered as and finally let reality sink in as the Caps rallied and went ahead, a goal by Lars Eller with 7:32 left holding up as the championship-winner. With that, poof went the last decade of postseason futility, an emotion strong enough to touch the various corners of the Caps’ regional fan base, including Baltimore, which hasn’t had a pro hockey presence since the minor league Bandits stopped playing in 1997.

“It’s been forever,” said Richard DeSantis, who introduced his bar-owning son and his two brothers to hockey in Patterson Park ice rink 30 years ago, and brought them to Capitals games at the old Capital Centre in Landover, where the team used to play. That rearing essentially planted the seed for the hockey bar that emerged on Hudson Street. “It was so fun to watch, the whole playoffs,” Richard said as he took in the jubilant red-rocked scene, a few blocks from where his grandfather started the family bar business by opening Venice Tavern on South Conkling and Bank Streets the year after prohibition ended. “And for somebody like Alex Ovechkin, whose been such a great player for all these years and has never gotten there, I’m so happy for him.”

So was his son, who 10 years ago took over ownership of Hudson Street, a place where he gathered with friends after adult league hockey games and became a place where Caps’ fans flocked over time. “I had been demoralized,” the 38-year-old said of the previous playoff exits, most recently series losses to Pittsburgh (ugh) in 2016 and 2017, despite the Caps finishing the most points in the league both seasons. “This is super special. Naturally, the first thing you think of when the Caps make it this far in the playoffs, is that it brings the hockey community together. While in Baltimore, obviously hockey is not a very popular sport compared to other sports, when they make it this far, everybody comes together.”

And hangs on every moment, like when with two minutes left in Thursday’s game and the Caps clinging to a one-goal lead, the digital scoreboard clock on NBC’s broadcast malfunctioned and disappeared. “How much time?!” probably a dozen people yelled at various TVs, as everyone wondered the same question. With 50 seconds left, the clock reappeared, just in time as final countdown and celebration was captured on phones (#AllCaps) and in memories. “To see them win and bring the Cup to the area,” Dom DeSantis said, “it’s hard to put into words.” So he did it with a keg instead.

When people walk out to the waterfront pier behind the Baltimore Marine Center in Canton, they’ll find a small shack labeled “Charm City Helicopters.” At the front desk inside is 28-year-old Caitlin Shipley, who generally gets asked the same question.

“People will ask, ‘So, what do you do here?’” she says. “And when I say I’m the owner, they act surprised. Then when they find out I’m a pilot as well, they’re even more so. I’m not going to lie, it feels good to overcome that stereotype.”

Going against the grain is characteristic for Shipley, who moved to Maryland and noticed there were no helicopter tours being offered in Baltimore like in her native Nevada. So she decided to start her own.

Located on Pier 7 owned by Scott Plank just off of Clinton Street in Canton, Charm City Helicopters was founded nearly two years ago. Shipley’s fiance, Freddie Ephraim, a pilot who flies the Johns Hopkins Hospital medevac chopper, is a back-up tour pilot and assists with marketing.

“I came to this pier every day to visit Freddie and saw how busy it was between news choppers and medevacs fueling up,” Shipley says. “I couldn’t believe no one was offering tours from the only civilian heliport in the city.”

The company fills that void with custom packages that range from a 15-minute downtown Baltimore tour that features a flyover of Patterson Park and the stadiums ($139/person) all the way up to an engagement/anniversary package that includes a helicopter tour and six-course dinner with wine pairings at La Cuchara ($369/person).

Charm City Helicopter pilots operate a four-passenger Bell 206 aircraft equipped with large bubble windows for optimum views. Despite her fear of heights, Shipley went to flight school at the prestigious Bristow Academy near Cape Canaveral in Florida after meeting a friend who was passionate about aviation.

“I fell in love with the freedom of flying,” Shipley says. “It was liberating to be so close to the earth and see everything but be able to go wherever you want. The lack of traffic was nice, too.”

She has lived about a dozen places over the years and says that she has fallen in love with Baltimore’s supportive community and the gorgeous views from 2,000 feet in the air.

“Maybe it’s because I’m from the desert, but there is something about that water,” she says. “I am also blown away by the amount of greenery in a city, too, and when you combine that with the water view, it really is astounding.”

Besides preparing for their October wedding, Shipley and Ephraim are looking to expand the business into more events and festivals, where attendees can take quick, 10-minute helicopter rides. Eventually, they’d like one full-time aircraft for tours and a second for events.

“Everyone’s reaction when they first fly is very similar,” Shipley says. “There is fear in the moment right before you take off. But as soon as you’re up and over the water, and see Ft. McHenry and the John W. Brown ship, you let that go. Distraction takes your fear away.”

If you could open a bar that was a complete reflection of your personality, what would it look like? That idea is coming to fruition for Ryan Sparks, former beverage director at Bookmaker’s Cocktail Club, who is now opening Regal Beagle on the corner of Elliott and Robinson streets in Canton next week.

“The main inspiration for me is my living room,” says Sparks. “I want people to feel how I feel when I go home and sit on the couch—surrounded by plants, records, tattoo flash art on the walls. I just want to extend that level of comfort.”

There’s another reason that the Regal Beagle feels like home for Sparks, since this is the place he earned his bartending stripes when it was Jack’s Bistro. Now that Jack’s chef-owner Ted Stelzenmuller is opening a restaurant concept, Blair’s on Hudson, just a few blocks north, he gave Sparks the keys to run his own bar.

“I’ve always loved Jack’s because it was so neighborhood-focused so I want to keep that aspect,” Sparks says. “There was a reason it was open for 11 years because that’s no easy feat.”

Stelzenmuller’s one condition is that the bar still run with the Three’s Company theme, hence being named after the neighborhood bar featured in the show. That homey feel, as well as nods to the late ’70s/early ’80s, can be seen throughout the space. A lounge is the back has reclaimed furniture in pale pinks and peaches, a bookshelf houses board games and magazines, and there’s a record player with a vinyl collection to the right of the bar (patrons are encouraged to in their own). 

The cocktail menu will be reflective of that time period, too, with nods to classic cocktails and also a section of tiki-inspired drinks including a take on a Midori Highball with Nikka Japanese gin, Green Chartreuse, yuzu juice, fresh honeydew, and salt. There will also be a list of shot-and-beer pairings including the locally inspired Water Taxi, which is a shot of Sagamore Rye backed by a Natty Boh. Beer will mostly be local and craft-focused. None of the cocktails are over $11, the pairings are $7, and there will be a daily $6 cocktail.

“I want this to be a place for neighbors considering we are right in the middle of a residential street,” Sparks says. “Even as we’re getting ready to open, about 40 people peek into here daily to check it out. I’m excited to get reacquainted with all my regulars from Jack’s.”

The food menu, which will be served pub style and executed by Stelzenmuller’s sous chef Brandon Stanley,consists of casual street food like sandwiches and lo mein. For this year’s inaugural WTMD First Thursday concert at Canton Waterfront Park, the bar will host a pop-up with taco favorites Cocina Luchadoras and drinks from Ilegal Mezcal. 

“The goal is that this place will be a hub for industry people, both as a bar to hang out in and also somewhere businesses can pop up and people can guest bartend,” Sparks says.

Regal Beagle will operate on a six-day license and be open from 4 p.m.-1 a.m. (keeping minimal food going until close). Sparks says he’s excited to run a bar that truly feels like his own. 

“I’m a bit stressed, but mainly I just feel great,” he says. “The bartenders and I, we’ve all been in there the last two months, thrifting things, decorating, painting. I feel a true sense of ownership here and that’s really nice.”

As “mindfulness” has become the latest wellness buzzword, many people are flocking to Reiki, a form of healing that uses energy from the body. And whether you’re an Eastern-medicine skeptic or an alternative healing true believer, this is an experience you’ll want to try for yourself. We talked to Terry McMillin, founder of Pure Holistic Wellness Center in Canton, about Reiki, its benefits, and what to expect during a session.

What is Reiki?
Reiki is a Japanese healing art technique that has been around since the 1920s and is one of many types of alternate energetic healing approaches used for a therapeutic benefit. It is a natural healing tool used by trained practitioners that moves energy around in the body to allow for healing to take place. Reiki can also help to alleviate physical, emotional, and mental stress in the body.

What are the benefits of Reiki?
The benefits can include improved concentration and relaxation, as well as better sleep. Reiki also promotes balance, alleviates physical and emotional pain, and enhances self-awareness and self-esteem. Some people say they feel the effects immediately, while some say they feel them several days later. Reiki is also said to benefit children when taught alongside meditation by allowing children to be calm and look inward at a young age, which promotes a healthy way of living throughout their lives.

What is a Reiki session like?
Reiki treatments are safe and non-invasive. During a session, the client lies down or is seated fully clothed. A session of Reiki usually lasts anywhere from 20 to 90 minutes, but each person is different, so a session can be longer or shorter. The variable is the person and the nature of their intention for the session and what they are looking to get out of it. Most Reiki treatments are done in a room with a soothing atmosphere. Dimmed lights or candles and quiet music are often the norm. The practitioner next places his or her hands on or above the body, depending on the preference of the client, and allows the Reiki to radiate from their hands into you.

How often should someone receive Reiki?
People can come as frequently as they like. I always say holistic or natural healing is a journey. It is not a one-time shot or a Band-Aid, but it’s a process. Just like in Western medicine, the healing arts have their share of good, not so good, and burned out practitioners. Make sure you connect energetically with that person. The healing process requires you to have faith and trust in your practitioner. Reiki practitioners need to be in the business because they love the art, not because they are jumping on the bandwagon.

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My take: From the moment I walked into Pure Holistic Center I felt very comfortable and welcomed, even if McMillin could tell I was nervous and a little bit skeptical. I didn’t know much about reiki and honestly kind of thought I was walking into some sort of massage, but as we talked through the process I found out that there is no physical touching that happens during a reiki session. We would be focusing on moving energy around my body to ease any pain, anxiety, depression, and pretty much anything else that could be wrong with you.
 

I walked into the treatment area and laid down on a bed and was covered in warm blankets. The session started with McMillin telling me to clear my mind with some breathing practices. Then the energy work began. I can’t tell you exactly what it looked like because my eyes were closed but the experience was very meditative. As I laid there for almost 40 minutes, I started to notice a feeling of pressure in my neck and head. This was weird and kind of scary for a moment, but I knew that strange sensations could be expected throughout the treatment. I also kept seeing flashes of the color blue that would take over my mind’s eye.

When the treatment was finished, McMillin told me she had seen a couple of things while performing the energy healing on me: an animal, a flower, and older woman with shoulder length hair (!), explaining their meanings and asking if I had felt or seen anything. When I told her about my experience, she brought over the chart of chakras—or spiritual focal points in the body—and showed me that the throat chakra is blue, and she could sense a blockage in that area when performing reiki on me. She then gave me literature on all the things we had talked about and the things we had seen, and I left.

Overall, it was a really interesting experience and, though I didn’t walk away feeling “healed,” I did walk away feeling refreshed. It made me realize we need to spend more time in silence and reflection throughout our busy lives and it was nice to learn and not think about the daily stressors of life for an hour.