When Kandace Lecocq was adopting her now-five-year-old daughter, Miriam, from Thailand, she thought about ways to help offset the cost of international adoption. She and her husband had already gone through the process once before when they adopted their now-eight-year-old son, Saja, from South Korea.

“Since our daughter’s adoption stretched out for years, we did little fundraisers,” says Lecocq. “I thought, ‘What can I do that people would enjoy that would also help fund her adoption?’”

Her lightbulb moment came while attending an event featuring charcuterie boards with salami roses and fruit sliced in unique ways.

“It was the pandemic, and everyone was taking on a new hobby,” she says. “Mine was charcuterie.”

By March 2021, her hobby became a business she named CharmCuterie. “And by Christmas I was so busy I had to turn people away,” she says.

Lecocq’s fascination with charcuterie is nothing new. “For years, if my husband and I were trying a new restaurant and they had a board, we’d order one,” she says. “Each pairing tastes totally different and I love the creativity of it.”

Lecocq, who serves as a pastor at Trinity-Life church in Lutherville, is also a fan of creating grazing tables in which the charcuterie covers the entire surface of a table.

“Grazing tables can connect a room full of strangers” she says. “I love the way it makes them interact.”

Though there’s usually some combination of prosciutto, coppa, pepperoni, and myriad cheeses, along with fruit, vegetables, spreads, and sweets, Lecocq customizes every creation. Of course, her biggest fans are her children.

“I have the only five- and eight-year-olds who ask for charcuterie boards for their school lunch,” she says. “They’re a little bougie.”

At Copper Shark, the new occupant of the former Wine Market Bistro space in the Foundry on Fort Avenue, story matters. Starting with the copper pot on display by the host stand near the main entrance, the restaurant goes to great lengths to impart its narrative to those walking through its doors.

Presumably the pot is similar to one that might have belonged to the (unnamed) Baltimore family who, according to the restaurant’s website, “made a living producing copper pots to make candy. Early on, they shrewdly realized their metalsmith studio was perfect for bootlegging whiskey.” As the tale goes, one member married a gangster who vowed to keep the city’s drinks flowing during Prohibition.

The restaurant is the latest offering from Mid-Atlantic Eateries, which has several locations of the Eggspectation franchise, including one in Ellicott City. If its attempt to push the copper concept seems a bit contrived, well, during our two visits in early fall its patrons didn’t seem to care. They—like us—were content sipping well-crafted cocktails, enjoying thoughtfully curated charcuterie plates, and partaking in much of executive chef Matthew Audette’s well-executed menu.

We pulled into the parking lot for our inaugural visit three months after the restaurant’s June opening. After being greeted warmly by the host, we were escorted past the bar and a glass case filled with hunks of marbled meats and cheeses to the crowded and lively dining room. From the moment we sat down, our server was cheerful, attentive, and informative.

We started with an American Treasure, the restaurant’s signature Old-Fashioned. Its bourbon, simple syrup, and bitters are standards; what makes it unique is the theatrical manner in which it’s presented. Tableside, our server opened a small treasure chest to reveal the drink amid a cloud of smoke. It was a fun little show, although the smoke barely impacted the cocktail’s taste. Still, it was a solid Old-Fashioned—nothing more, nothing less.

Appetizers tend toward the sophisticated. Seared foie gras, fried burrata, charred octopus, and sugar pumpkin velouté are among the alluring offerings. We opted for the stupendous braised duck Bolognaise. Topped with a dollop of boursin cheese, the thin black pepper tagliatelle blended with the duck to create a dynamic, rich flavor. The al dente texture of the noodles was flawless, and the generous portion could make for a small entree. We’ll be ordering it again.

Still, we made room for the main course. The nine entrees include pan-seared scallops, grilled swordfish, and a duo of Muscovy duck, all of which sounded promising. On this night, we opted for the herb-crusted halibut and an eight-ounce flat iron steak. Both were excellent. The lemon-dill nana sauce gave the fish a pleasing acidity, and the accompanying sauteed asparagus and baby carrots were a nice complement. The steak, plated pre-sliced, was perfectly hot but tender and red in the middle.

On our way out that night, the bar was packed with people. The more casual menu, lower price point, and covivial vibe at the bar intrigued us, so when we returned a few weeks later we joined the throngs. To kick off the night, we started with a Porch Pounder, which certainly does pack a punch. Bourbon, peach, dry orange Curaçao, honey, lemon, and ginger beer combine to make a refreshing, but strong, concoction.

After a plate of middling crunchy cheesy arancini balls (which were not particularly crunchy or cheesy), we ordered a charcuterie board, which was nicely composed and fun to eat. In addition to the fat pieces of black pepper and maple duck ham, ’nduja spreadable salami, and Italian cow’s milk cheese, jam, olives, and pickled cauliflower rounded out the plate.

Duck confit tacos and an Italian sub highlight the bar menu (and are available on the pared-down lunch menu, as well), but the burger—an eight-ounce patty topped with sharp cheddar, crispy onions, and horseradish aioli—ultimately called out to us. It turned out to a be a quality, respectable version—it was juicy but not too massive or messy to handle. We also split the pan-roasted organic chicken. Excellent seasoning on the skin and a sweet tomato vinaigrette elevated the dish from humdrum to exciting.

Six months into its life, much of Copper Shark’s story remains to be written. We’re excited to see what comes next.

COPPER SHARK: 921 E. Fort Ave., 410-202-2268. HOURS: Tue.-Fri., 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sat., 10:30 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sun., 10:30 a.m.-9 p.m. PRICES: Appetizers: $11-18; entrees: $22-65; bar menu: $10-18. AMBIANCE: A speakeasy in plain sight.

A grittier but gemlike offshoot of the upscale restaurant Corner BYOB
in Hampden, The Other Corner Charcuterie Bar is a near-perfect exemplar
of what a neighborhood bar should be. Slipping into its quirkily rustic
environs one rainy November night (it opened in September), I
immediately felt giddy, as if I’d found the door into a past life or
another country—rural France, maybe, or the rec room of a friend’s
coolest parents, circa 1954. Various cured meats and farm implements
hang over the 14-seat hardwood bar. Tabletops perch on oak barrels
against the far wall, whose crenelated white bricks give the tiny room a
grotto-like feel. A clutch of herbs hangs in a space between the
rafters, beyond which an acid yellow-lit wall boasts a graffito of a
spidery two-faced monkey—a jarring contrast that fittingly sums up the
mix of funk and roughhewn charm. When the
glamorous-as-a-’40s-movie-poster waitress pressed the daily $5 cocktail
into my hands—a hot concoction of artisanal liqueurs and small-batch
rum—I knew I’d died and gone to Hampden heaven.

The place is the
brainchild of BYOB co-owner Bernard Dehaene, whose Belgian roots may be
responsible for the European vibe. A passageway connects the restaurant
to the new bar, so that while BYOB patrons can still bring their own
libations, they can now also order them from the Charcuterie. Meanwhile,
chef Andrew Cole executes a bar menu as funky, charming, and surprising
as the surroundings. Most of the offerings are small plates, reasonably
priced around $7, with one nightly dinner offering for $20, which
includes appetizer, entree, and a glass of wine or beer. Sounds ordinary
enough—the small-plate idea is standard issue—but what plates! At BYOB,
Dehaene is famous for serving up exotic game, everything from wild boar
to yak, and the Charcuterie navigates between beautifully prepared
straight-ahead bistro items (beer-steamed mussels enriched with smoked
bacon and leeks, addictive duck-fat-fried fingerling potatoes, garlicky
escargot), and more adventurous “snacks” like seared frog legs, an
earthy casserole of blood sausage in tomato-garlic sauce, roasted veal
marrow bone, and a mustard-and-crumb-coated pork foot.

That last
is a fine example of the kitchen’s straightforward but magical way with
“parts.” It’s a simple fried pork foot, but as the ethereal breadcrumb
coating yields to the crispy skin and shards of unctuous meat beneath,
you realize it’s addictive and well worth getting a little brutish with
the bones. The housemade “accoutrements” that grace the plate are an
astonishingly delicious array of goodies: slivers of shallot pickled
with curry, jewel-like dabs of port-wine jelly and Forelle pear jam, and
translucent rounds of spicy pickled carrot.

A generously
portioned trio of the eponymous charcuterie—among the choices are hearty
chorizo, creamy mortadella, and Venetian sopressata—comes similarly
accoutred. Accompanied by a crusty baguette and a glass of, say, Saint
Cosme Côtes du Rhône from the bar’s small but reasonably priced
selection of wines, it may be the best $13 meal in town. There are also a
half-dozen artisanal cheeses from near and far to choose from, and
bowls of herb-marinated olives to be had. And there’s a
cognac-chicken-liver mousse that has been flambéed and then swirled into
satiny smoothness with heavy cream. Served with a buttery hunk of
brioche, it is as richly evocative of the French countryside as anything
in Baltimore. If you’re in the mood for a slightly more austere repast,
the house cold-smoked trout with toasted raisin-pumpernickel bread is
tangy and divine.

Of course, it would be a shame to dine here
without sampling one of Charcuterie’s handcrafted cocktails, which hold
equal billing with the food. Using mostly boutique, small-batch liquors,
the bartenders whip up classics like sazaracs and sidecars burnished
with some small fillip of difference: an absinthe-washed glass for the
former, a splash of Elixir Combier in the latter. The daily cocktail
usually features more wildly inventive recipes, but to taste the
difference a craft-distilled liquor can make, a simple Negroni will do.

I
admit that, save for a bite of the Thursday night leg of lamb from a
friend’s plate (delicious), I’ve yet to sample a full dinner at The
Other Corner. (I’ve been too busy making my way through the irresistible
small stuff.) But I’m dreaming of the textural refinements Andrew Cole
might work on the Wednesday night pasta or what rare seasonings he
applies to steak on Saturdays. Rest assured it won’t take me very long
to go back and find out.