Friends and relatives had been urging Sam Curreri, owner of Sammy’s Trattoria in Mt. Vernon, to open a suburban location for a while. So, last year when a spot became available at Hunt Valley Towne Centre, Curreri grabbed the opportunity—and he hasn’t looked back since. The crowds flowing into the restaurant each day are an affirmation that he made the right decision. “We had no idea what was coming,” he says.

We stopped by the restaurant on a Wednesday evening without reservations and were lucky to score two seats in the dining room. We don’t recommend going unannounced. Just about every one of the roughly 100 seats in the bar and 100 places in the dining area were taken.

The menu items, mostly traditional Italian staples prepared with evident care, are named after a who’s who of Curreri’s relatives and acquaintances, with nods to several local judges who frequented the downtown restaurant he opened in 2006. I don’t know retired Judge Kathleen Sweeney, but I’m a great fan of the Bolognese dish that bears her name. The mix of ground veal and boar in a tomato-based sauce over pappardelle is a great representation of the Italian ragu.

Before we even got to the main dishes, though, we started our meal with two terrific, oversized meatballs perched on a puddle of ricotta laced with Gorgonzola cheese and a Julia salad (named in honor of a customer’s mother), dense with romaine, cherry tomatoes, and pepperoncini, and glistening with a creamy Italian dressing. We also were wowed by the veal involtini entree. Similar to a roulade, the tender meat encased a savory filling of tomatoes, provolone, spinach, and prosciutto, bathed in a silky Marsala sauce bobbing with chunky mushrooms. The crusty bread served at the beginning of the meal turned out to be a great vehicle for mopping up the juices.

Curreri spent eight months renovating the 6,600-square-foot space, creating a bar area separated from the dining room by wine walls stacked with bottles, an idea he gleaned from Architectural Digest. He also installed wood paneling and subway tiles and redid the kitchen. The white-cloth-covered tables, set with deep-red napkins, are finishing touches.

To end, the excellent house-made cannoli is large enough for two people to share. The crackly pastry shell exploded with creamy, whipped ricotta studded with mini chocolate chips, adding just the right sweet notes.

As fans of Sammy’s in the city for a long time, we’re more than confident its county cousin is going to do just fine. As for those friends and relatives urging Curreri to open in the ’burbs? The people of Hunt Valley owe them a hearty thank-you.

SAMMY’S TRATTORIA II 118 Shawan Road, Hunt Valley, 443-318-4256. HOURS: Mon.-Tues. 4-9 p.m.; Wed.-Thurs., Sun. 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. PRICES: Appetizers: $9-18; entrees: $17-43; desserts: $6.

For overstuffed sandwiches, pre-made lasagnas, and authentic Italian fare, it’s no secret that Trinacria, in business since 1908, sets the gold standard. (One might say they put the “deli” in delicious.) When rumors began circulating that a second Trinacria was opening (and, even better, staying open after 4:30 p.m.—the original’s somewhat random closing time) on the Westside,expectations ran high. Fortunately, the new Trinacria Cafe delivers (literally, too), though it’s less of a cafe and more of a cafeteria, which is fitting given its location on the former site of a Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Like the original location in Seton Hill, there’s no waitress service, as you place your order at the counter. The décor, brightened only by shelves stocked with imported canned tomatoes, dried pastas, and the like, could use some work, but there’s plenty of focus on the food. You need but one bite of the tender homemade sausage and beautifully balanced marinara sauce (order it as a side for a measly $3.95) to be reminded of this place’s pedigree. Most of the original’s sandwiches have made their way to the menu here. Thankfully, the prosciutto (with fresh mozzarella and pesto on foccacia for $7.50) and veggie (fresh mozzarella, artichoke hearts, roasted peppers, and tapenade for $6.95) are among the cold sandwich offerings, along with tasty paninis, and luscious hot subs, and salads. Also available are daily filled pastas and an unabashedly cheesy spinach lasagna, as well as sizable “personal” pizzas that could easily feed two. The pizzas are listed as “thin crust,” but are more like a flatbread (not insignificant to a pizza aficionado), but the toppings are of high quality and nicely composed. The “Sweet and Salty” ($9.75) is a good example, with lots of translucent caramelized onions, crisp prosciutto, chunks of kalamata olives, tangy mozzarella, and roasted garlic—perhaps surprising for a run-of-the-mill carry out, but here we would expect no less. All in all, Trinacria Cafe is a proud progeny of this third-generation Italian institution.

 ›› Trinacria Cafe, 111 W. Centre St., 443-759-4082, Hours: 9 a.m.-8 p.m. Mon.-Sat.; 8 a.m.-7 p.m. Sunday; appetizers: $3.50-8.95; entrees: $7.25-11.95; desserts: $3.69-4.99.

Sporting a rustic look that mixes the terra-cotta colors of the Southwest with vintage fixtures and repurposed wood, Forno boasts one of the most inviting interiors we’ve seen in a while. This cozy and casual wine bar, situated in the Bromo Tower Arts & Entertainment District directly across from the Hippodrome Theatre and next door to Everyman Theatre, serves up what husband-and-wife co-owners Emina Dukic and Bryan Noto are calling “coastal cuisine”: brick-oven pizzas, small plates and quick bites, and a handful of more substantial entrees. Forno is well-positioned to fill a need in a neighborhood clamoring for more good dining choices, and, given the location, attracting theater-going customers should be a no-brainer. But long-term success will mean attracting loyal neighborhood customers as well. Can Forno fill the bill? If first impressions mean anything, we’re betting this charming spot will draw in both kinds of diners.

Noto (a former manager at nearby Alewife) and Dukic have fashioned a space that makes a great first impression. As you enter, the light-filled main dining room beckons on one side, while the cool, marble-topped bar entices on the other. That impression continues with the welcoming waitstaff. After a friendly greeting from the hostess, a knowledgeable waitress quietly, but enthusiastically, led us through chef Kris Sandholm’s menu, which emphasizes locally sourced, seasonal ingredients. As befits a wine bar, there is a nicely priced selection of reds and whites—many of them New World offerings in the $25-35 range, with most available by the glass as well.

We began with a sinful-sounding item from the “Bites” section, the crispy chicken skins with spicy barbeque sauce. Translucent shards of greaseless and, yes, crispy bits of what I consider the best part of the chicken were good enough to eat without the kicky sauce. Grilled whole squid from the “Small Plates” section was also a pleaser. Five whole squid atop a bed of baby kale—a generous portion big enough for a table of four to share—were grilled just to silky tenderness, with a touch of smoky flavor for depth. We couldn’t help but order the intriguing “Dr. Joe’s bacon-cured duck breast wrapped cornichon” (whew!), but this small plate was a bit less successful. Although they didn’t quite live up to their title, the little pickles in their smoky duck jackets were just fine, but they were perched atop croutons spread with a too-sweet mash of caramelized onions with an unpleasant, mushy texture. We simply plucked the cornichon off the croutons, which were superfluous. Problem solved.

No such problem with the entrees. There are only five or six to choose from—on our night, two fish selections, a grilled pork loin, chicken, a Moroccan-spiced rabbit, and a dish of curried vegetables with mustard greens and hominy—but that’s about right for a restaurant serving lots of eat-and-go theater patrons. But if you’re going to the theater, try to arrive early because these entrees are meant to linger over. Pale pink Arctic char is delicate and perfectly cooked, and its sides of braised fennel and artichokes with sundried tomato-flecked wild rice are a delicious complement. The Springfield Farm half chicken is moist, juicy, and smoked just enough to hint at summer barbeques and outdoor picnics. It, too, comes with pleasing vegetable sides: tiny baby beets, turnips, and fingerling potatoes glazed with chicken demi-glace and roasted. Next time, we’re going for the rabbit, which diners at the next table were “oohing” and “aahing” over.

The brick-oven pizzas at Forno—which is, after all, Italian for “oven”—hold a prominent place on the menu, and they’re solid, certainly good enough to comprise a meal. Thin-crusted and slightly charred around the edges, all but one feature fresh vegetables and cheeses—in the case of the Farmer’s Pizza, a moist house-made ricotta. The only thing standing in the way of perfection was an overdose of rosemary, which overwhelmed both the ricotta and the roasted vegetables. The pizza funghi was closer to heaven, with big hunks of earthy porcini studding a properly thin glaze of tomato and Parmesan. We’re looking forward to trying the pizza carne, which substitutes the mushrooms for confit duck, smoked bacon, and pulled pork, and the Parmesan for Asiago.

Desserts at Forno are just big enough to share and small enough not to overwhelm. We enjoyed a flourless chocolate “bar”—two dense and fudgy triangles presented in a cup and surrounded by fresh coffee-flavored cream—that was happily more semi-sweet than sugary, which is just how we like it. And just how we like to cap a meal of small bites and more substantial fare, in a setting we’d gladly return to, whether en route to a play or just to enjoy Forno’s quietly enticing pleasures. 

Is it a bar with great food or a restaurant with a great bar? However you perceive The Nickel Taphouse, the place rocks with a bonhomie not found in its other iterations. The Mt. Washington space was on the verge of being another jinxed spot after Freda’s Kitchen, The Falls, and Blue Sage Café closed up shop in quick succession. Then, Robbin Haas swooped in for the rescue. The neighborhood perked up. 

Haas already had exhibited a Midas touch in turning a vacant Hampden millhouse into the successful gourmet-pizza/pasta restaurant Birroteca. His involvement brought high anticipation before The Nickel Taphouse even opened in November. It has been packed ever since.

After a makeover, the restaurant now has the look of an upscale pub with wood tables, smart-looking booths, a prominent L-shaped wood bar, and, the “wow” factor, a horizontal ceiling candelabra with over a hundred votive candles lit in the evening. The food also has polish—top ingredients and mostly excellent preparations—in a humble-roots kind of way. Haas wanted to recreate the honest fare served in the taverns of his native Buffalo, NY.

We got off to an excellent start with a creamy smoked-whitefish dip served with thick crackers and a bundle of tender vegetables, including baby carrots, thin radishes, and haricots verts. Our helpful server suggested the nibble while two of us waited for our other guests to arrive.

That was a highpoint. Unfortunately, the rest of the evening was marred by several flubs from the kitchen and bar. (Some of the food is prepared by the bartenders.) Because we ordered appetizers prepared in both places, there was a lag time of almost 40 minutes before we saw our first starter—and then we had to wait several more minutes for the French onion gratinée to arrive.

Finally, we settled into a chopped wedge salad, prepared tableside (is that trend returning?), with crisp lettuce (pieces, not a wedge), thick bacon, blue cheese, and a Dijon vinaigrette. The latecomer soup was luscious, rich with flavor, and adorned with a poufy baguette slice dripping with Gruyère, fontina, and Parmesan.

Oysters and mussels, prepared in a variety of ways, are mainstays on a menu that adapts to the seasons. The roasted oysters are succulent morsels jazzed up in styles like Nawlins (Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, and wine), Carolina BBQ (mustard, vinegar, chilies, and cayenne), and traditional Rockefeller (spinach, Pernod, shallots, and butter). The “iced” oysters on the half shell vary regionally. We had some lovely, salty specimens from Rhode Island.

Six to seven entrees are available. The seared Verlasso salmon fillet sounded so promising. But the center-cut fish sat listlessly on moss-colored creamed spinach wearing a fried egg that was tougher than a mouse pad. (It’s not on the menu any longer.) The Berkshire pork chops, however, were moist and suited the caper-lemon butter sauce. The accompanying arugula-and-watercress salad was a pleasant peppery contrast.

The better route to go may be with the burgers and sandwiches. The “beef on weck,” a staple of upper New York state bars, is magnificent to behold and just as delicious. Slabs of rare roast beef are piled on a kummelweck roll—a Kaiser roll topped with salt and caraway seeds—and served with a bracing horseradish for the bold and a house-made vinegary coleslaw and pickle slices. The turkey burger was plump with lettuce, tomato, avocado, and a mayo-tasting “nickel sauce.” It was missing the advertised sprouts, but we didn’t care. We really like that the burgers are available in two sizes: nickel (five ounces) and dime (10 ounces).

Even though the hour was getting late, we plunged ahead with dessert. Again, there was a lapse. But the profiteroles were worth the wait. A pitcher of warm chocolate sauce allows you to control (if you can) the amount of topping you douse on the delicate cream puffs filled with Prigel Family Creamery pretzel-caramel ice cream. The warm bread-and-butter pudding with cinnamon apples and raisins with toffee sauce was also a comforting finish to a meal that had ups and downs, but was really solid when it delivered.

Our server, who fretted over us during the long evening, showed his appreciation for our increasingly diminishing patience by not charging us for the desserts.

We’re not sure why the kitchen was in the weeds that night. When we went back another time—and savored an amazing “works” burger with the over-easy egg cooked just right—we were impressed with the attentive service, overall good food, and fun atmosphere.

The Nickel Taphouse has found a niche as a neighborhood restaurant and a bar. We’d go back for both reasons.

Look closely at the crowd at The Valley Inn, and you’ll see there’s been a subtle shift. Yes, you’re still likely to see preppy moms, nattily dressed businessmen, and genteel ladies of a certain age. But there’s something else: a new generation of young adults in the bar and dining room, curious about this venerable old Baltimore County restaurant. Though we’d been once or twice in the past decade, we, too, wondered if its new owner, Ted Bauer—who also owns The Oregon Grille—would retain a semblance of the historic building’s storied past (dog races, swing bands, wicked mint juleps) or strive for something completely different.

It took almost three years to find out. The last owners of the one-time 1800s roadhouse were two generations of the Hatfield family, who operated the place from the 1920s, with the eccentric Bud Hatfield presiding over the place until Bauer took possession of the aging restaurant in 2011.

Then, last December, the renovated restaurant—officially in Lutherville but often cited as being in Brooklandville—re-opened in a carefully orchestrated evolution. First, drinks and a limited menu were served in the bar on weekends only; then, they were offered on a daily basis; and now, they’re also available in a handsome dining room with the list of appetizers, sandwiches, and entrees continuing to expand.

The décor reflects the restaurant’s previous reputation as a gathering place for Greenspring Valley’s horse folk. The subdued dining room has a thoroughbred-racing motif with artwork, jockey lamps, and accoutrements dispersed throughout a space that has two working gas fireplaces. The lively bar captures sporting interests, from golfing and fishing to horses and dogs. They are manly rooms in luxe woods that remind us of a hunt club.

Under the helm of chef Roger Shugars, the restaurant’s fare is much more adventurous than its ambiance, though there is a nod to the cuisine of a bygone era with a wonderful crab imperial—a Maryland specialty featuring a lush mound of jumbo lump bathed in a rich white sauce and served in a scallop dish.

The chef has devised a New American menu to suit a variety of palates and portion demands: There are “plates” for heartier appetites like a crab-cake platter, an 18-ounce grilled T-bone steak, and ragù Bolognese, as well as light-fare offerings that include a 10-ounce Valley burger, cheese-steak sliders, and house-made shrimp salad—a popular dish at The Oregon Grille.

In fact, there are several crossover offerings, though in slightly different preparations, between the two restaurants, including a French dip, grilled oysters, and the chopped seafood Cobb salad—a gorgeous mound of chilled romaine with jumbo shrimp, lump crab, avocado, bacon, tomato, egg, and Gorgonzola. We dare you to try and finish it.

A variety of chilled oysters on the half shell are also available including Blue Point, Misty Point, and Hog Island on one evening. But one of our favorite appetizers was the braised Asiago meatballs in a Cabernet sauce. Our Italian dining companion was quite impressed—as were we. We also really liked Hawk’s crab soup, named after the person who created this veggie-laden version.

The poached lobster is another decadent (and delicious) presentation—a round of creamy saffron risotto is cloaked in wilted spinach and then crowned with two succulent lobster tails intertwined like ballet dancers in a pas de deux.

Another night, we had a roasted free-range chicken, moist and tender, with buttermilk mashed potatoes and sautéed mushrooms. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen an orchid dolling up a plate. But the old-fashioned, exotic garnish appealed to our nostalgia.

Desserts are homey and clever. The waffle ice-cream sandwich with a hint of almond flavor embraces Graeter’s chocolate-chip ice cream. Baltimoreans may not have heard of this brand, but it’s a big seller in the Midwest with its vibrant, creamy texture. It’s also available by itself or in a hot-fudge sundae at the restaurant.

The chocolate-dipped strawberries and pretzel sticks are also a fun, satisfying finish, as is the house-made bread pudding with whiskey sauce.

The food is worth a visit. But kudos to Bauer for saving an important landmark and taking pains to stay true to The Valley Inn’s ethos.

Under his care, the updated restaurant along leafy Falls Road is ready to create its own memories for the next century of diners.

If you’re not careful, you’ll walk right past the entrance to Ozra,
despite the flag bearing its name above an awning. The solid front door
doesn’t immediately distinguish itself as a place of business. But
persevere. Gustatory pleasures await those who find their way inside.
The two-level space sends a warm welcome with its gold-and-maroon
accents against pale walls, bare-wood tables, subtle lighting, sitar
music, and rows of glass containers, each encasing a delicate flower.
The downstairs dining room can get noisy in the evening when a
happy-hour crowd gathers at the small bar in the rear, but it’s a fine
place to indulge in the restaurant’s intriguing Persian cuisine, which
borrows from the dishes of India and other Middle Eastern countries, and
its Mediterranean fare.

We prefer the intimacy of the upstairs room, which is actually a
mezzanine overlooking the lively scene below. (Note: It’s much quieter
during lunchtime.) The building was once a bakery in Little Italy and is
just steps from the neighborhood’s iconic dessert place, Vaccaro’s.

Don’t worry about parking: If you can’t find a space on the street, a
garage is conveniently located next door. And the restaurant will stamp
your ticket at night, so the tariff is only $4.

In the restaurant, co-owners Reza Holland and Mahrdad “Max” Tabasi
have created an understated, elegant setting as a backdrop for their
wonderfully aromatic skewers, stews, and selection of basmati rices.
But, like many restaurants, the kitchen tweaks the menu with seasonal
favorites like two of its winter offerings: a Persian noodle soup and
khoresht fesenjan with sautéed chicken, toasted walnuts, and pomegranate
sauce­­—with rice, of course!

Our servers—who were cheerful and helpful on both of our visits—were
only too happy to explain how best to pair the fragrant cooked grain
with all of the entrees.

Before you get to that point, though, a garlicky hummus is served at
dinner to stave off any hunger pains while you decide on starters. You
can order the various eggplant and homemade yogurt dips separately, but
my friends and I enjoyed sharing the yogurt trio.

It’s fun trying to decide on a favorite—if you can even choose. Each
creamy mix has its own personality: one with cucumbers and mint, another
with dried shallots, and the other, called borani, with spinach and
garlic.

Another time, we delved into the eggplant baba, a tantalizing blend
of puréed eggplant, onions, Persian goat cheese, and walnuts. It may not
be a beauty, but the brown concoction is great, especially scooped up
with crisp pita-bread triangles.

The shirazi salad is a flavorful beginning, too. Its simplicity with
cucumbers, tomatoes, red onions, and parsley, tossed with a citrus jus,
belies the complexity of the whole. It didn’t take long for this dish to
disappear.

Now, back to the basmati decision. There are four types on the menu.
The delicate, long-grain rice is available plain, with barberries (a
tiny, bright-red fruit grown in Europe), with dill and fava beans, and
with sour cherries, all dusted with saffron.

Our waitress suggested the dill-and-fava-bean rice with the khoresht
ghormeh sabzi, a stew of fork-tender filet-mignon cubes, vegetables, and
red beans. The dense, meaty combo is served in a bowl, while the rice
is decoratively arranged on a separate plate with red-onion slivers and a
charred, roasted tomato.

The kitchen pays attention to presentation with a series of pretty
plates. The jumbo shrimp, marinated in a saffron-citrus-herb-sauce, were
carefully nestled like sleeping children on a plate, as was a strip of
savory skewered ground sirloin (mixed in-house)—that coupled beautifully
with the sour-cherry basmatic rice.

The lamb chops are a specialty, our server said. We can see why. The
four chops (three for lunch), seared on the outside, were moist and
tender and went well with the tart barberries—they remind us of
cranberries in taste—in the accompanying rice.

Desserts may seem familiar, but they are distinctive. The
honey-drenched baklava, for instance—a pillowy, layered pastry—is made
with almonds, a welcome variation from the traditional pistachios. The
Persian ice cream is a heavenly ball of saffron and rosewater. And the
lemon sorbet has an interesting texture with threads of frozen noodles.

This newest Little Italy restaurant is truly a find, once you’ve found the front door, that is.

It’s no coincidence that The Prime Rib’s swank, supper-club vibe has been showcased in a TV show like The Wire or often brings mention of the retro era of Mad Men. The restaurant exudes an elegance and allure that appeals to diners—whether it’s a young drug-gang leader like D’Angelo Barksdale trying out the luxe life or a slick advertising guy like Don Draper.

In real life, The Prime Rib lives up to its billing. It’s been reeling in Baltimore sophisticates since its founding in 1965, wooing customers with big food and heady cocktails. You’ll find steaks as thick as a phone book and martinis as smooth as Daniel Craig—all in a sleek setting with leopard-print carpet, a Lucite grand piano, black lacquered walls, and skin-soft leather seating.

Over the years, the steakhouse parlayed its success to D.C. and Philadelphia. More recently, it opened a fourth location at Maryland Live Casino in Hanover, where it’s betting that hungry gamblers will want to take a break from the action and luxuriate in a plush setting.

But its proximity to the shops at Arundel Mills will also attract outsiders looking for a taste of Baltimore nostalgia. On a recent visit, a large party was celebrating a matriarch’s birthday. There wasn’t a slots player among them.

The dress code is more relaxed here than the tie-and-jacket attire usually seen at the North Calvert Street address. When I called to make reservations, a hostess told me that the only time jackets are required is when someone is wearing jeans. The restaurant’s website recommends business-professional or business-casual wear. These seem to be loose requirements. It was all across the board on a Sunday night.

Unlike the city restaurant’s intimate space, The Prime Rib at Maryland Live is spacious. The entrance lounge area is huge with an L-shaped bar; the dining room is bright and open; and an outdoor patio with a retractable roof and an expansive gas fireplace is a destination unto itself.

Not to worry, the beloved accoutrements are still here—from the carpet to the piano.

The menu is familiar, too, though you’ll notice some new additions. The tried-and-true Buzz’s salad (named after The Prime Rib owner Buzz Beler) was as great as always with its crisp compilation of romaine, tomatoes, avocadoes, and chopped egg in a sweet white-balsamic vinaigrette. The oysters Rockefeller were delicious, hefty morsels with a generous blanket of spinach and a hint of Pernod. And the Maine lobster bisque was silky, creamy, and resonating with a pleasant shellfish undertone.

Before we even tucked into our appetizers, though, we were presented with a complimentary amuse-bouche. This tidbit of roasted-corn purée atop a buttermilk biscuit with bacon dust assured us of the chef’s cooking cred.

We just wish our server had been more competent. It was really our only complaint. There were long lags between courses and a general forgetfulness on his part, including not delivering our bottle of wine until we were well into our entrees. We definitely missed Bobby, one of our favorite servers at The Prime Rib in Baltimore.

But the food was too good for us not to have enjoyed our evening. The 12-ounce signature roast prime rib with fresh horseradish yielded medium-rare goodness. The eight-ounce prime filet mignon proved to be a stellar, charcoal-singed round of meat.

Although many people associate The Prime Rib with beef, its seafood choices should not be ignored. The two jumbo-lump crab cakes we sampled would make any Marylander proud.

We also enjoyed a mound of steamed, slightly garlicky broccoli rabe—plenty for a table of four—and the restaurant’s well-known Greenberg potato skins that have been on the menu since The Beatles first crooned “Help!” and “Day Tripper.” We never tire of these crispy spuds, which are served with two dipping sauces—a spicy mayo and horseradish sour cream.

Desserts are just as sumptuous as the savory offerings. The apple tarte Tatin inspired awe with a baked apple perched on a pastry crust. The bread pudding with bourbon sauce and Key lime pie were ample servings that would satisfy any sweet tooth.

The Prime Rib is expensive with steaks soaring to $64 and seafood to $76, but, except for our novice waiter, the experience left us feeling like winners no matter what was going on in the noisy casino outside the restaurant’s stately doors.

For months, the tall windows and doors at 1728 Thames St. were plastered with thick brown paper. Construction trucks were out front, but curious passersby (including me) couldn’t tell what was going on in the centuries-old Fells Point building.

Soon enough, there was a big sign announcing that a restaurant was opening. But construction dragged. It would still be many more weeks before diners got a glimpse of the inside of Thames Street Oyster House, the dream of owner Candace Beattie.

Immediately, the place, next to the rollicking Cat’s Eye Pub, was packed. The glow of its debut was quickly doused when Hurricane Irene came roaring up the Atlantic seaboard, threatening to wash out the cobblestone streets and historic structures in the waterfront neighborhood. Once again, Beattie was covering up her exterior—this time with plywood.

Mercifully, the storm didn’t cause the expected damage, and Thames Street Oyster House took down its protective sheathing to finally concentrate on establishing a niche in this restaurant-and-bar-saturated community.

It’s no surprise that oysters—from raw to Rockefeller to shooters—anchor the menu. There’s also a New England theme with lobster dishes, clams, and other seafood rounding out the list. A few meat options are thrown in, too, like a grilled skirt steak with beet relish and sweet plantains. The chef, Eric Houseknecht, has composed a casual menu with thoughtful, seasonal ingredients.

And in an area known for tourists, pub crawlers, and hungry diners, owner Beattie has wisely presented a price point to suit eaters who want to satisfy their munchies with a burger or a salad or those who are looking for a full meal with appetizers and entrees.

Despite its name, the Oyster House doesn’t look like it hails from the Cape Cod area. With its hexagonal white-tile flooring, inviting wood bar, outdoor brick patio, and upstairs dining room with brown paper over the white tablecloths, the quaint row-house restaurant could easily have been plucked off the streets of Paris. The only thing missing is a French sneer from the wait staff. The servers here are young, friendly, and knowledgeable.

On one visit, our waiter Tony helped us choose from the dozen types of raw oysters available that day, explaining the pedigree of each. A paper guide with descriptions is given to diners, complete with pencils for marking your choices—similar to making selections at a sushi restaurant. But we really appreciated our server’s guidance.

We ended up with six chilled, plump oysters on the half shell—do try the Kumamoto ones from California—that we slurped happily with a variety of condiments, including a traditional mignonette with shallots and black pepper.

The bivalves whetted our appetites for the official appetizers, including the ubiquitous lobster mac ‘n’ cheese. (Is there a menu in town without this dish?) It turned out to be more of a hearty meal than a warm-up to the main event. A small cast-iron skillet is packed with cavatappi “corkscrew” pasta glistening with a rich Gouda sauce and studded with sweet lobster chunks. It’s a fine dish, just filling.

The oysters Rockefeller were fancy and delicious. The shells were properly set on a bed of rock salt, and their briny inhabitants were dressed with creamed spinach sporting Pernod and Parmesan. The knockout, though, was the shrimp ceviche—a bowl of plump shrimp “cooked” in a citrus marinade of lime, orange, ginger, and cilantro.

Now, it was time for the real test—tasting the crab cake. The 10-ounce patty was also served in a cast-iron skillet, filling up the pan like puffy pancake. It was moist and plump with lumps of crab. The Baltimore traditionalist in me could have done without the rémoulade sauce on top. The side dishes were great: sweet chunks of watermelon with threads of basil—a product of our late-summer visit—and horseradish potato salad.

The seared Block Island scallops were nicely burnished from a quick turn in the pan and meltingly soft inside. The farm-fresh succotash of corn, peas, and red peppers was a pleasing addition. The lobster and crab risotto with peas was laden with seafood but the rice was too chewy. The lovely, underlying flavors—lemon zest, basil, and Parmigiano-Reggiano—helped support the dish.

Sitting in the upstairs dining room with a view of the harbor, we wanted to linger over dessert. They’re made in house, which may or may not explain why they took so long to reach our table. During the interlude, we lost interest in the sweets. Their arrival didn’t perk us up.

They were well-prepared but unexciting—dulce de leche brioche bread pudding in a splash of dulce de leche sauce and a orange-scented crème brûlée. For a cool finish, we liked the raspberry sorbet buried beneath a thicket of fresh blueberries.

Thames Street Oyster House is also open for lunch Wednesday-Sunday. We soon returned to sample the lobster roll. It didn’t disappoint. Hunks of beautiful claw and tail meat spilled over the open-face crunchy roll. There’s even drawn butter on the side for extra indulgence.

At the end of the meal, the check is served in an empty oyster can, a fun touch. With its menu, décor, and range of prices, Thames Street Oyster House has already managed to find a way to attract locals and visitors in a competitive area of town. We have a feeling that, barring an unforeseen hurricane, the restaurant won’t be boarding up again anytime soon.

THAMES STREET OYSTER HOUSE

STYLE: A charming, bistro-like setting with an upstairs dining room and walk-in bar area.
CUISINE: A menu with a New England influence and a variety of seafood, including oysters, of course.
YOU’LL FIND: A private brick courtyard for dining with romantic lights strung overhead.

1728 Thames St., 443-449-7726. Hours: 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Sun., Wed.; 5-10 p.m. Mon., Tues., raw bar and bar food until 11 p.m.; 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Thurs.-Sat., raw bar and bar food until 12 a.m. Appetizers: $9-12; entrees, $16-27; desserts, $7.

I felt like I was channeling chef/adventure eater Anthony Bourdain as I carefully cut into a grilled kangaroo tenderloin at Corner BYOB in Hampden recently. My friends were a little aghast that I was going to eat Roo. Actually, so was I—though the medium-rare loin was lean and delicious. Like ostrich meat, I thought, determined not to think of the Winnie the Pooh character.

You don’t usually see this particular meat on Baltimore menus. Nor do you find yak, python, or black bear—all of which may turn up on chef Bernard Dehaene’s menu at this new spot aptly named for its location at the intersection of 36th Street and Elm Avenue.

But the Brussels-born chef isn’t trying to razzle-dazzle (or spook) diners. He’s been cooking these creatures for a while. In fact, at his former Philadelphia restaurant Zot, he held occasional “Flintstone Dinners” with all manner of species in his kitchen—from lion and crickets to Thai water bugs. At press time, Dehaene was planning an Exotic Meat Club, so he could showcase these special offerings at Corner.

The restaurant is so much more than serving unusual “proteins,” though. It delivers an array of dishes, which the chef describes as “a mix of Continental, European classical cooking with New American ingredients.” You’ll find such items as Dover sole meunière, beef stew made with Resurrection beer, roast cod, and a lamb brochette. Nothing scary or unfamiliar there!

I have to admit that I wasn’t sure what to expect at this restaurant with its bland, unassuming exterior. Don’t be misled.

Inside the former diner, the narrow space has been transformed into a cozy bistro with banquettes against the walls and bare wood tables. There are large picture windows, which provide a panorama of the outside pedestrians. And the cocoa-ebony color scheme is as sophisticated as the food.

The chef has been in the United States since 1985 and has been involved in several restaurants, including Mannequin Pis in Olney. He also spent time in Baltimore in the ’90s at Café des Artistes in Mt. Washington and is glad to be back in town. “I love Baltimore, the people and atmosphere,” he says.

Given Dehaene’s heritage, there are Belgian leanings on the Corner menu, too, such as mussels by the kilopot served with a cone of hot, salty fries and golden mayo. You can choose from several different preparations, including traditional marinière with white wine and herbs; Bruxelles with goat cheese, bacon and leeks; and curry and coconut milk.

We picked the harissa-spiced Red Devil bivalves with tomatoes, garlic, and peppers. (Harissa is a fiery hot sauce.) These black-shelled beauties were plump, zingy, and tender with lots of broth at the bottom of the pot for dipping. Note: Bread and butter are $3 extra.

Which brings me to other extra charges. The Corner is conveniently located within steps of the well-stocked The Wine Source, so you can pick up supplies. At the restaurant, there is a $3 corkage fee per full-size bottle of wine, plus $1 a person. It also prefers that you pay your bill with cash. You can use credit cards, but there is a $2 “convenience” fee.

Now that the money stuff is out of the way, let me tell you about our other appetizers. Both were among the specials offered that night—which is where the chef and his sous chef Zeke Altenbernd seem to get extra creative. Don’t overlook the regular starters, though. They’re worth consideration: pork loin salad, escargots and wild mushrooms, tomato shrimp cocktail, and seafood pasta, for example.

We opted for the sea scallops—two sweet rounds, which were seared and nestled on risotto with a goat-cheese-cream sauce laced with flecks of black caviar the size of mini polka dots. We also had a square of heavenly foie gras, whose savory richness was a captivating foil to tart brandied cherries and a smooth chocolate sauce.

In addition to the kangaroo entree, we also had the crispy salmon—a moist, pale-pink fillet lightly crusted with potato—with a lobster-potato mash and a succulent flambéed steak, finished off with Jeremiah Weed whiskey, with bacon Brussels sprouts and potato croquettes.

The Corner, which also serves weekend brunch, offers its handmade waffles for dessert, too. The crisp honeycomb-patterned treat provides an excellent base for assorted berries and fresh whipped cream.

We also savored a chocolate terrine, divided into two thin wedges and drizzled with raspberry sauce, and a chocolate hazelnut parfait with hazelnut ice cream, a dark chocolate sauce, and more of that airy whipped cream.

Admittedly, we were full by the end of the evening. Still, we’re sorry we weren’t able to sample the roasted beef marrow, shad with shad roe, and sweetbreads that chef Dehaene was also serving that night. But we have no doubt that the next time we return, there will be other intriguing dishes on the menu.

That is, if we can get a seat. The restaurant wasn’t accepting reservations at the time. But that policy could change, we were told. We hope it does. We have a feeling that once word gets out about this amazing little place, scoring a table might be difficult.

CORNER BYOB

850 W. 36th St.
443-869-5075
Hours: From 5 p.m. Wed.-Sun., 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Sat. and Sun. brunch.
Appetizers: $7-10; entrees: $17-26; desserts: $6-9.
The restaurant is BYOB, wasn’t taking reservations at the time, and accepts credit cards with a $2 convenience fee.

STYLE: The former diner has been updated into a charming dining room.
CUISINE: Continental with New American ingredients and some Belgian influences.
YOU’LL FIND: Exotic meats like kangaroo and yak are offered as specials.