“I knew it was going to be a good day when the ball of string sold for $8,000,” Richard Opfer recalls with a chuckle.

Twenty years ago, the Timonium auction-house owner organized the sale of Haussner’s Restaurant’s one-of-a-kind assemblage of art, kitsch, and kitchen keepsakes. The initial high-end mass auction of bronze busts, Whistlers, Rembrandts, and Roman sculptures from the beloved German dining institution had been handled by Sotheby’s in New York, garnering more than $10 million.

The leftovers: minor works, old menus, and memorabilia, including the epic 825-pound ball of twine—19 million napkin strings cobbled together by bored waitresses over more than three decades—was proffered locally, garnering another $2 million.

“It was the most people we’ve ever had here, before or since. Lines outside, more than 1,000 people,” says Opfer, who managed to roll the giant sphere out of Haussner’s and into a box truck with the help of three assistants. “Never seen anything like it. People just wanted a piece of the place.”

For recent Baltimore arrivals who missed the restaurant’s near-three-quarter-century run: Haussner’s was opened on Eastern Avenue in 1926 by William Henry Haussner, a Bavarian master chef who reportedly cooked for Kaiser Wilhelm II before immigrating here. He was joined by his wife, Frances, who also fled Deutschland during its 1920s depression and ran the front of house.

Mrs. Haussner cut a trim, elegant figure in the celebrated, if calorie-laden restaurant, and she proved the art connoisseur in the family, convincing her skeptical husband that people enjoyed eating in beautiful spaces. The generously portioned cuisine unsurprisingly leaned heavily into Teutonic favorites such as sauerbraten, hasenpfeffer, Vienna meatloaf, Wiener schnitzel, and the knock-, brat-, liverwurst troika. The strawberry pie, topped with a tower of whipped cream, is missed to this day.

“Nouvelle cuisine passed right over Highlandtown,” Francie Haussner George, the founders’ daughter, once said. At its peak, they served more than 1,500 dinners on Saturday night. At the end, it was still doing 900-plus. “It was just time,” George says of the restaurant’s closing. The ’80s and ’90s had been rough for Highlandtown, and that likely factored into the decision.

Today, however, the Highland Haus—a condominium replete with garage parking, “sky lounge,” and dog-washing and electric-car-charging stations—sits atop the former location. An upscale wine and beverage store (kombucha, spiced cider, mead) has opened on the first floor. There’s also a CrossFit gym across the street and yoga studios nearby. Meanwhile, the famous globe of linen twine has never been far away.

“I told my wife, Debbie, when I went to the auction I was prepared to go as high as $15,000 or $17,000,” says Bob Gerber, owner of The Antique Man in Fells Point and a retired county bus mechanic. “No way I was going to let it leave Baltimore.”

Early on, the big ball proved a tourist attraction for the store, paying for itself, says Gerber, who also owns the huge steel pink pig that for 79 years hung over Joe Siemek’s butcher shop on Fleet Street. Old timers in Fells Point might recall the pig was outlined in neon on a big sign, “Eat Joe’s Meats.”

“We bought that to keep it in the neighborhood, too,” Gerber explains. “I could’ve sold that pig and the ball of string hundreds of times. They have not been for sale.”

Today, the main attractions at Antique Man are a skeleton of the son of Dracula; the body of a 12-foot, two-headed man; a four-legged chicken; a severed foot; as well as a religious icon reputedly containing a sliver of wood from the cross of Jesus. Gerber says people still come in from time to time and tell him they still have a picture, taken when they were children, sitting on top of Haussner’s linen string orb. Now 77, Gerber’s clearing inventory himself to move into a smaller store next door.

“Where would I like to see the ball go when I’m done? To me, the ball of string represents all those waitresses who worked at Haussner’s for decades. Some for 50 and 60 years. I’d like the owners of that condominium to put it in their lobby,” Gerber says. “That’s where it belongs. It’s a monument. I’d love to see it go back home.”

Former Baltimore food and dining editor Suzanne Loudermilk and Baltimore Fishbowl columnist Kit Waskom Pollard recently teamed up to write the Lost Restaurants of Baltimore. The book, published by The History Press, spans 100 years of dining in Charm City, from Thompson’s Sea Girt House (allegedly the first place in America to serve crab imperial) to Danny’s (where famed restaurant critic Craig Claiborne was known to dine), and The Brass Elephant, where winemaker Robert Mondavi celebrated his 80th birthday.

“Even if you’re not from Baltimore, there’s a lot in here if you’re interested in restaurants or cultural history,” says Waskom Pollard. “You can learn a lot about how the world has changed.”

How did you decide which restaurants would end up in the book?
SL: It wasn’t easy. There had to be some popular cuisine such as German cuisine, which was once big in Baltimore, or we picked The Crease because it had a fern bar with green plants hanging everywhere, which doesn’t seem like a big deal now but in that day it was. We just looked for things that were representative of different trends at the time.

I know that you tracked down some people for your research. Tell me about some of your finds.
SL: I just loved finding the owner of Haussner’s living in Millsboro, Delaware, and I found Harvey Sugarman of Harvey’s at Greenspring Station in New Mexico—I had heard he was making artisan chocolate. I sent an amazing number of people friend requests on Facebook, and The Sun archives opened so many doors.

How many of the restaurants had you actually experienced as a diner?
SL: I went to a good number of them, but some I wish I had a chance to go to—The Eager House or Harvey House or The Gaslight Club. I do remember going to Martick’s several times. On my last visit, there was a couple under the table clearly engaged in a sexual act. We had had brought out-of-towners for dinner, and we said, “Oh, it’s just this real Baltimore place,” and then we all looked up at the same time and see this activity—we just laughed and drank more.

KWP: I’m grateful that I got to go to Haussner’s as a kid before it closed. It was fabulous and exciting with all of the artwork.

Tell me about the vintage menus and what dishes were popular.
SL: There were so many similarities, especially when you talk about Danny’s and The Chesapeake. There were always crab cakes, some sort of consommé, and steaks were huge at The Chesapeake—it was supposedly the first place on the East Coast that had the charbroiled steaks. Several restaurants, including The Chesapeake, claimed they were the first to serve Caesar salad.

KWP: Fortunately, the New York Public Library had the menus in the public domain. I saw menus with the date on them. There were new menus every night, which is interesting because that’s something that seems so modern, but it was happening then, too.

What was the overall scene like back then?
SL: People would actually come from D.C. by train, so we were known as more of the food town than Washington, D.C.

KWP: There were a few hotspots, such as when a performer was coming to the Mechanic or The Lyric, they’d go to The Chesapeake or The Pimlico Hotel. It was a scene at a handful of places.

If you had to give advice about the formula for a successful restaurant based on your research, what would you say?
KWP: The places that endure, in part, are the right restaurant for the neighborhood. What happened toward the end of Velleggia’s tenure is that the traffic patterns changed in the city. What contributed to the decline of Peerce’s Plantation is that people stopped taking Sunday drives along the Loch Raven Reservoir.

What made a restaurant a classic?
SL: It’s interesting that people didn’t talk that much about the food when we interviewed them. At the time, it was more about the front-of-the-house people that were the big deals.

KPW: I realized that the classic places were more about how they made you feel. It’s that Maya Angelou quote that you don’t remember what people said or what they did, you remember how they made you feel—the same thing is true for those classic restaurants.

For more behind-the-scenes commentary on Lost Restaurants of Baltimore, check out our Local Flavor Live podcast interview with Suzanne Loudermilk, here.

Kathy Conrad, retired Baltimore police officer: “Memorial Stadium—when working-class people could afford a baseball or football game.”

Mark Niewiadomski, Hertz Equipment Rental: “The price of crabs is rising as fast as fuel. I miss the old days when I could afford the gas and crabs in a single sitting.”

Pam Ruff, executive director, Maryland Economic Development Association: “I miss the MN sign on the Maryland National Bank building—it used to light up white for snow, red for hot, and blue for cold weather. Also miss the McCormick spice smells when it was downtown.”

LTJG Douglas Piper, U.S. Coast Guard commanding officer: “Lawn chairs saving parking spots during the winter, and summer walks to get snowballs with marshmallow.”

Valerie Kent, marketing manager: “Haussner’s—the art collection, career waitresses, and strawberry pie.”

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