If there’s one thing that husband-and-wife duo Todd and Nikki Marks both feel they need in their respective careers as a developer and chef—it’s more workspace.

Todd, the founder and CEO of Mindgrub Technologies, says the mobile app, web, and and marketing company has outgrown its 20,000 square-foot offices inside the Banner Building in Locust Point. And Nikki, co-owner of Share Kitchen in the same building, has given up her own area in the commissary kitchen to meet the demand of other food startups interested in leasing space.

“We’ve got people practically sitting on laps at Mindgrub,” Todd says. “We’ve just run out of room. And Nikki is a chef without a home right now. There’s just so much demand for kitchen space.”

A lightbulb went off when Todd came across the former home of Rachel New American Cuisine, a three-story building zoned for many different uses, just down Fort Avenue in Riverside. Though the former restaurant has sat vacant for more than a year, he envisioned the top two floors as Mindgrub offices, and the kitchen as a place for Nikki to continue her cooking classes, prep for catering gigs, and host other chefs in need of commercial equipment. Keeping all of this in mind, the couple recently purchased the property as a home for a new collaborative concept, which they’re calling, “Mindpub.”

“There are a lot of options that we want to try out by having this space,” Todd says. “It’s kind of a food-tech playground to see how food, technology, kitchens, and office space get to play together.”

Eventually, the couple can see the first floor transforming into a cafe that is open to the public full time. But the short-term plan is for it to be a hangout for Mindgrub employees and an events space for the company’s many meetings and speaker series.

Other than the remediation work that inevitably comes with reviving a vacant building, the owners say the quick turnaround—Todd expects workers to begin using the space mid-December—will involve building a rooftop deck and adding fresh coats of paint. The offices will be able to accommodate 30-40 people, while the kitchen will have room for 10-15 chefs working in the kitchen at any given time.

Todd says that Mindpub is a stepping stone for a much larger “work-live-play” environment that he envisions for the company when its lease at the Banner Building is up in five years.

“When I look at my younger employees—it’s all about the experience,” he says. “The office of the future should be kind of like Google or Silicon Valley. They have things like tetherball, dry cleaning, and daycare. This is a foray into that.”

For now, he is excited to activate the 4,000-square-foot corner spot, which historically hasn’t survived as a restaurant, as something that will have many different uses within the community.

“Over the past ten years I think four or five restaurants came in and out of that space,” he says. “The other places were trying to do two-floor restaurants, and they couldn’t get enough people in there because of parking, cost, or [a lack of diners coming in from other neighborhoods]. So the fact that we can have office space and the restaurant will allow everything to thrive.”

Of course, Todd is also looking forward to the opportunity to collaborate more closely on a project with Nikki. The two previously worked together to rebrand food truck MindGrub Cafe, which Nikki sold last year to focus her energy on Share Kitchen. But Todd says that Mindpub will create an entirely new experience for the couple.

“We’re always trying to figure out why we’re so in love,” he says. “I’m a math guy, but the only conclusion I can come to is that we both have the same stardust in us. In this case, we get to parallel play. It’s the best of both worlds because we’re not reporting to each other, we’re not in the same business, but we both get to do what we love under one roof.”

Nikki Marks is all about promoting collaboration within the local culinary community. Not only is the chef well connected in the food truck scene—operating kitchen-on-wheels Mindgrub Cafe and holding a position with the Maryland Mobile Food Vending Association—but she frequently teams up with local groups to host her own private cooking classes.

Now, Marks is taking her partnerships in the local food scene one step further—running a shared commercial kitchen at McHenry Row in Locust Point.

“It’s just the way things are going, people are helping each other out more now,” says Marks, who spoke with us on the phone from a table at famed retail-and-restaurant concept Eataly in New York City, while on vacation with her daughter. “I mean I’m sitting here at Eataly and there’s so much movement. There’s one guy slicing meats and another prepping cheese. I love the energy of people all working together. There are a lot of joint ideas that come with sharing a space.”

The aptly named Share Kitchen recently debuted inside the Banner Building in Locust Point, where Marks’ husband, Todd, runs local tech firm MindGrub. Marks was introduced to the space on an afternoon last summer, when her friend Brian Mathias happened to be parked out front serving lunch on board his food truck Bistro Lunch Box.

“I went out to the truck and said, ‘Brian, there’s space in the basement, we need our own kitchen,” Marks remembers. “And he said, ‘Done. Let’s do this.’ It all happened so fast.’”

Throughout the past year, Marks and Mathias have spearheaded the buildout of the 3,000-square-foot kitchen—which now features amenities for catering and food truck preparation, as well as cooking classes and private events. (Marks says that the front area, equipped with lounge furniture, a television screen, and a 12-foot farm table that she built herself, is ideal for business meetings.)

The state-of-the-art kitchen features fryers, stand-up freezers and refrigerators, prep tables, ample shelving units, a 12-foot hood, convection oven, Vulcan range, flat-top grill, and walk-in refrigerator.

Aside from being a basecamp for Mindgrub Cafe and Bistro Lunch Box, the incubator also currently houses WOLO food truck, food consulting firm Au Jus Solutions, and Rack House Bakers—the local startup that has become known for making whiskey cakes using Kevin Plank’s Sagamore Spirit Rye. Marks says that the space could potentially accommodate one more food truck, but she isn’t looking to fill it to capacity.

The space also boasts plenty of room for Marks to continue teaching cooking classes for both kids and adults. In fact, she recently hosted a weeklong summer camp with children from Garrison Forest School.

“The hospitality business is tough on a family, but mine can do it with me now,” says Marks, whose blended family officially grew to include seven children after she and Todd got married last year. “Don’t think we’re not having our Thanksgiving dinner there this year.”

Besides teaching, Marks is committed to empowering local food trucks—as her battle to overturn the city’s 300-foot rule heads to trial at the end of September.

“The food truck business is difficult enough without having to also worry about where you’re going to prep and park,” she says. “Having a space that’s approved where we can make it easy for more food truck owners, that’s the thing that my heart is most tied to.”

Judging from Back to the Future and The Jetsons, the year 2017 would be filled with flying cars, hover boards, and teleportation docks. Much to our disappointment, we’re not quite there yet. But tech companies like Mindgrub Technologies are working towards making those dreams a reality—virtual reality to be exact.

The Locust Point company, under the leadership of president and CEO Todd Marks, has made it possible for local organizations like Mercy Medical Center, Peabody Conservatory, and Ulman Cancer Fund to revolutionize experiences for both consumers and employees. Using augmented reality, mobile gaming, and wearable technology, Mindgrub has been able to bring intangible ideas to life.

“A lot of the things we are working on are real world experiences,” Marks says. “Virtual and augmented reality can simulate anything.”

So when Mercy was looking for new ways to train its nurses, it was only natural that the hospital turned to Mindgrub for help. With teaching tools and content from the nursing department and the gaming software, the two organizations were able to create an educational game called Epic Quest.

Trainees have to travel through the World of Salus—healthcare in Latin—to complete a series of questions that test their knowledge on various aspects of medicine, like infection control and pain management.

“Using the game cut down on the length of the orientation,” says Stacey Brull Sr., director of research, education, and informatics at Mercy. “What used to take three days, now only takes one.”

Mercy discovered the nurses that completed the training using Epic Quest game retained more information than those completing traditional training, like PowerPoint presentations and classroom instruction. 

In addition, Mindgrub helped improve Mercy’s 3D crash-cart computer training. In the newest version, virtual reality simulates a crisis, forcing trainees to react in real time.

“You’re actually immersed in the emergency room, so that as the crisis is happening, you are able to react and use the cart in real time,” Marks says. “It creates muscle memory.”

The program is still in the testing phase, but Brull hopes that it will be at Mercy very soon.

“I’ve never experienced anything like it. You have to physically reach for the drawer and pull it open,” she says. “Not only will this elevate our training, but it’s just very cool.”

When Mindgrub works with a client like Mercy to develop virtual or augmented reality programming, the entire process—from discovery to deployment—can range anywhere from six weeks to a year depending on the scope.

Recently, the company has also worked with the Ulman Cancer Fund, known for its fundraising runs and bike rides. Mindgrub developed a virtual reality headset attached to a stationary bike that simulates a cycle ride through the city, encouraging people to participate.

 And prospective students of the Peabody Conservatory can now see a 3D video of the orchestra to simulate what it would be like to sit in the middle of a real rehearsal.

“Since its inception, VR has been commonly seen as an outlet for leisure and exploring new gaming terrains,” Marks says. “But now it’s becoming more than entertainment; it is an asset to companies, boosting productivity, education, and research and development.”

On a recent afternoon, Nikki McGowan was picking up her son Michael from school when the principal on carpool duty peered into the red MINI Cooper, where Michael, 8, and his 6-foot-3 brother Alex, 13, shared the tiny space with overstuffed backpacks and Michael’s cello. The principal jokingly suggested, “Mommy needs to get a bigger car.”

Little did she know. The boys have not only a sister, they have four stepsiblings. And the traditional two-story house they all share in Oella on the outskirts of Ellicott City is easy to spot on the block—its driveway is crowded with the MINI, two SUVs, and the Madame BBQ food truck, one of McGowan’s assorted culinary business ventures.

McGowan and her three children share the household with Todd Marks—founder and chief executive officer of a software company—and his four daughters (ages 8 to 14) in a Brady Bunch-style arrangement that, surprisingly, seems to work, thanks to carefully calibrated schedules, lots of hooks and cubbies, and a live-in au pair, a 20-something German student named Laura.

McGowan and Marks, who plan to be married this summer, talk freely about the shared custody arrangements they have with their former spouses—meaning the house is only full half the time. “When the kids aren’t here, we get to, you know, have coffee in the morning,” McGowan cracks. Other mornings border on mayhem, as the seven kids attend five different schools (and next year it will be six).

The couple were introduced three years ago by a mutual friend, Vic Corbi, then-owner of Grilled Cheese & Co., who had catered corporate events for Marks and knew McGowan as a fellow culinary entrepreneur. “He thought we’d have a lot in common,” says Marks, and indeed, they did. The two immediately recognized each other from their years in the same grade throughout elementary and middle school in Howard County.

In addition to operating the food truck, McGowan had been working on a variety of other food-related businesses, from teaching kids’ cooking classes to running the lunch program at a local school. Marks is known in the tech community for starting Mindgrub, which designs custom mobile and web applications. In their spare time, the couple are designing a workplace restaurant that will serve “food that’s good for the brain,” says Marks, a clever spin on his corporate brand.

“I have about 55 millennial employees,” says Marks. “The idea is to do some testing on them and eventually establish a cafe concept to put in other corporate buildings.” Adds McGowan, “Mind grub, get it? How perfect.”

Marks built the house in 2004 on land he’d purchased a few years earlier. The property came with a small house, but it was more efficient to start fresh, he says. “The area is gentrifying—most of the neighbors renovated and added big additions.”

He had a 4,800-square-foot, five-bedroom house built on the site—two other rooms were converted to bedrooms later—complete with a home office and lounge off the kitchen, and shortly thereafter he renovated the basement to accommodate his fledgling company. “My first employee helped me install the toilet,” he says with a chuckle. Marks himself built the shower stall, framing stained-glass panels from the salvage emporium Second Chance in the tile walls to let in extra light.

Similar stained-glass panels are embedded above the opening between the living room and kitchen, flanked by built-in bookcases, also from Second Chance. Marks cut out the wall to install the matching shelves, which are topped with arched sunburst molding.

Marks isn’t the only DIYer in the blended family. McGowan points to the thick cotton duck draperies. “Drop cloths from Home Depot” that she put up after moving in, she says.

Impulse has played its part in the décor, too. One day last year, McGowan, weary of the prosaic, tiled kitchen island, took a crowbar to it. That demolition led to a comprehensive overhaul, which McGowan did almost entirely on her own. The island was expanded and finished with white beadboard siding and the top of an old pine table, slathered with a thick coating of protective lacquer. McGowan also replaced the kitchen cabinets with open shelves supported by curved pipe fittings, and installed a restaurant-style faucet with a detachable hose over the porcelain farmhouse sink. An old wooden ladder, painted glossy red, became an overhead rack for pots and a vintage grocer’s scale.

The kitchen also has large chalkboards, one of many strategies McGowan and Marks have devised for keeping home life reasonably orderly. The chalkboard over the breakfast nook lists “house rules,” like work together, use kind words, and “call a family meeting if there’s a problem.” There’s also a list of don’ts such as excessive pouting, slamming doors, throwing tantrums, and using social media after bedtime. Each child’s name is accompanied by a series of stars and smiley faces to designate their adherence to the edicts. “Originally, it was to keep the kids in line,” says Marks, who credits McGowan for the idea. Adds McGowan: “There’s a new sheriff in town.”

The other board—actually a chalkboard-painted wall framing the kitchen door—is used for grocery lists, schedules, and reminders. Other organizational strategies include cubbies for shoes and plenty of hooks in the entryway for coats and keys. While each kid participates in one or more activities—from sports and music to computer coding and Girl Scouts—“we try not to have more than three activities at the same time, so two adults can drive while another stays at home with the rest of the kids,” says Marks. (The third adult is the au pair.)

McGowan’s two sons have bedrooms on the main floor—the former home office and lounge—while three of the daughters live upstairs near the master bedroom. McGowan’s 11-year-old girl shares a room in the basement with Marks’s 10-year-old, its dividers and loft beds reminiscent of a college dorm room. McGowan built the platforms for the girls’ beds with surplus doors.

For relaxation—if you can imagine such a thing in this house—McGowan says she likes to paint. That’s rooms, not pictures. She holds up her hands to reveal spots of white. “Yesterday, I painted the bathroom.” The day before last Thanksgiving, when guests were due to arrive, McGowan took a roller of white to the crimson-red living-room walls. “It was driving me crazy.”

But that DIY task was lightweight compared to some they undertake. Last summer, McGowan and Marks worked together to build an in-ground, kidney-shaped swimming pool. Except for installation of the pool, they did everything themselves, including operating the backhoe to plow up the site and placing two-ton boulders for tiered landscaping, while the kids helped with the planting. “Todd and I just like to get things done,” McGowan says. “When we take on a project, we just dig in.”