Like any business owners, Neill and Emily Howell, proprietors of The Corner Pantry, have weathered storms. In their case, the storm was a literal one—they opened for the first time in the middle of a massive nor’easter on Feb. 14, 2014, a snow-covered sign outside reading: “For the love of food.”

In a strange way, though, the snowstorm also gave them an opportunity for some free advertising. “On that first day, I was digging my car out in Rodgers Forge trying to get to the restaurant,” says Neill. “A news camera pulled up and said, ‘Hey, we’re doing something about the weather, do you want to talk to us?’ And I was like, ‘Sure’—I ended up talking about how I was trying to get out to open our new restaurant in Lake Falls Village.’”

Running a restaurant isn’t easy for anyone—unexpected events like snowstorms (or a pandemic, for that matter) can throw off your business, profit margins are slim, good labor is hard to find, sourcing ingredients is often an issue (look at the recent rise in the cost of eggs, for example)—and there’s always the threat of the short attention span of customers looking for the shiny new spot just down the road.

But for the past 11 years, the married couple of 15 years has built their business into a total success story. Even after a recent $1.6-million expansion that tripled the cafe’s footprint from 1,200 square feet to 3,600, it can still be hard to score a table.

On any given day of the week, their British-themed cafe in the Lake Falls Village shopping center, a stone’s throw from Mt. Washington, hums with hungry patrons seeking sophisticated breakfast and lunch fare that feels like something you’d find in The Big Apple.

And while they decline to discuss revenue, suffice it to say that no matter what time of day you go, there’s often a line that forms around the stanchions (there for crowd control), as people shuffle from the cold case filled with mango lassi chia seed puddings, turkey sandwiches, and Greek salads, past the pastries (scones, financiers, pasties, crumpets, carrot cake, and gluten-free treats) to the register. Not counting catering (which could be for 500 or more on a typical week), they serve roughly 7,000 customers a week, selling some 600 chocolate-chip cookies and 400 classic all-day egg and cheese sandwiches.

The Corner Pantry is busy because the elevated cafe fare, from an authentic fish and chips with mushy peas to the fantasic falafel and boffo breakfast biscuits, is made with as much care and attention as any fine-dining spot in the city. Here, no shortcuts are taken—from the “crisps” (that’s British for chips) that accompany the sandwiches to the raspberry jam, bacon, and sausage, just about everything is made from scratch in-house.

NEILL AND EMILY WANT TO BEAT THE STEREOTYPE THAT BRITISH FOOD IS BLAND, BEIGE, AND BORING.

Neill, 47, is British-born and Emily, 44, is an Anglophile, so despite the renovation, it was important for them to keep the modern British vibe intact with English touches, like the Clarke and Clarke wallpaper in the bathroom and the Chelsea Tex-tiles fabric that covers the pillows on the dining room banquettes.

“We didn’t want people to walk in and feel like they’re not in The Corner Pantry anymore,” says Emily of the dining room refresh.

But it’s the food more than the décor that speaks to The Corner Pantry’s British theme and the couple’s desire to beat the stereotype that British food is bland, beige, and boring.

“British food gets a bad rap,” says Neill, his British accent sharp as ever despite a few decades in the U.S. “It’s not just fish and chips and bangers and mash; there’s so much international influence.”

On an unusually spring-like day in February, the Howells are in a rare moment of repose in their contemporary Lutherville home, which sits on three bucolic acres and offers verdant views for as far as the eye can see. They’re always thinking about ways to continue to grow as a business, but after the months-long renovation to the cafe, including a new state-of-the-art kitchen with its top-of-the-line equipment, plus a dedicated area for baking and catering, they have finally reached a point where they can breathe a bit and take time to reflect.

“With the expansions, we’ve always been working toward the next thing, but right now there is no next thing,” says Emily. “We just want to keep the wheels turning. It’s scary being here for 11 years. We don’t want to become irrelevant or the ‘old place.’”

Relaxing at their heirloom Irish kitchen table is a rarity for the hard-working couple. When they’re not at work, they’re running their busy household, which includes daughter Annabelle, 14, son Clive, 11, and a lively Labrador, Windsor. (Their bulldog, Bessie, has passed on but is immortalized in The Corner Pantry’s logo.)

The airy foyer of their home tells more of their story. It’s filled with a mix of modern art, a round console with hefty coffee table tomes on Queen Elizabeth and Princess Diana, as well as various antiques passed down from Emily’s family. Over the staircase, there’s a prominent gallery wall with black-and-white bicycle diagrams from the British Army (a nod to Neill’s love of cycling, likely passed on by his dad, who worked as an armorer in the Army and was responsible for bike repair as part of his job). It’s a total blend of their worlds, which started on different sides of the Atlantic, but collided almost two decades ago when they met while working in New York City.

Emily, who grew up in Baltimore, attended Notre Dame Preparatory and holds a degree in visual communication from the University of Delaware. Right after graduating from college in 2002, she headed to New York City, landing a job as a receptionist at the famed Soho House, a private club in the Meatpacking District known for its celebrity clients.

“I didn’t even know what Soho House was when I first started working there,” says Emily. Soon, she advanced to a manager position in the reservations department, overseeing bookings for the likes of Kevin Costner, Gordon Ramsay, and Gwen Stefani. She was very much leading the life of a single girl in the big city. (At one point, she even appeared as an extra in the episode of Sex and the City that was filmed at Soho House. It’s the episode where Kim Cattrall’s Samantha gets busted after breaking into a private club.)

Neill grew up an ocean away in Colchester, England, and was first introduced to hospitality while working as a dishwasher at Sloppy Joe’s, an American/Tex-Mex-style restaurant in his hometown. “The food was terrible,” he says, laughing. “It was all microwaved, but we made our own pizza dough—and for 10 pounds, you could get a slice of pizza, a baked potato, and coleslaw all served on one plate.”

A struggling student, Neill left his formal education at 16 to attend culinary school in his hometown. “I barely passed,” he says of both his formal schooling and his culinary education. “I struggled with sitting down and someone giving me directions—my brain doesn’t fire up that way. I’m better at touching things, feeling things, working around chaos.”

After his father’s untimely death at 53, an 18-year-old Neill moved to London to escape his small-town existence and push away the pain. “It affected me then and affects me still,” he says quietly.

His first job in London was cooking in a hotel right next to Buckingham Palace. He lasted all of three months, turned off by the lack of fresh ingredients and culinary care.

“One of the chefs called out fish and chips and the sous chef went to the freezer and pulled out a frozen piece of fish to put it in the fryer—I was like, ‘This is not what I signed up for,’” he recalls.

He quickly moved on to working at The Grove Hotel, then the famed Langan’s, an iconic brasserie in the Mayfair section of London (a see-and-be-seen spot owned by actor Michael Caine at the time). The kitchen was run by Richard Shepherd, one of the first British chefs to win a Michelin star. “The menu was handwritten every day,” he says. (In fact, a framed menu from Langan’s holds a prominent position on the Howells’ kitchen wall.)

At Langan’s, Neill finally found what he was looking for. “When I walked in, I saw all the copper pots hanging and the flat burners and flames, and I was like, ‘This is what I want,’” he recalls. “When I was in that environment, that’s when it clicked for me.”

He started as a commis chef (a junior chef) in training and proved himself to be a fast study, quickly rising through the ranks to chef de partie (a line cook). He loved the chaos of the kitchen—and the after-hours camaraderie. In the rough-and-tumble, rogue lifestyle of the kitchen, he’d found a new home.

From there, he worked at Asia de Cuba, a swanky Ian Schrager five-star hotel restaurant in stylish Convent Garden, where he learned to work with global ingredients. “It  was a very strict kitchen,” says Neill. “You had to come on time and wear clean uniforms. The chef was trying to instill standards. I learned a lot there, especially how to create different flavors with Asian and Cuban and fusion flavors, which I still like to this day.”

At 24, full of energy and enthusiasm, Neill followed another chef who was headed to the United States. In 2004, he landed a job at Soho House, where he met Emily. They worked on different floors of the hotel but soon became friends (they admit to feeling some fireworks at the time). Two years later, Soho House sent them on a fateful catering trip to California for the two weeks of Oscar season. When Emily found out that Neill had been chosen to go on the trip, too, she says, “I tried to play it cool at first.”

It was a star-studded trip, with the couple even working Tom Cruise’s after-after Oscar party at the former home of Ian Fleming, the writer of the James Bond spy series. (And it was Neill’s turn to play it cool when Paul McCartney casually stopped by the kitchen during the party to watch him make pancakes.)

But the glamour didn’t last long. In 2010 they were married, and in 2011 Annabelle made them a family of three. By then, Emily had gone back to her graphic-design roots, doing freelance advertising and design work for the likes of Vogue and Crunch Fitness.

With a baby in tow, trying to get by in New York City was wearing on them, so they uprooted and bought a house in Rogers Forge near Emily’s family. Neill became the chef at Bond Street Social in Fells Point and Emily continued to do freelance work.

“IT’S SCARY BEING HERE FOR 11 YEARS,” SAYS EMILY. “WE DON’T WANT TO BECOME IRRELEVANT OR THE ‘OLD PLACE.’”

By 2013, the couple were at a crossroads with their careers. Neill was looking for an end to working the long hours of dinner service. Emily had grown tired of the freelance life. “I don’t know exactly how it came about but I was like, ‘I don’t want to work late hours anymore, I have a family and some things have to change in my life,’” says Neill, who found sobriety that same year after years of hard partying.

They soon started joking about owning their own business, and one thing led to the next when the couple found themselves in Lake Falls Village, where Emily’s sister-in- law’s mom owned the clothing boutique L’Apparenza next to what was then Banksy’s Café. Neill thought that if they did open their own spot, something like the Banksy’s location would be ideal.

Not long after, fate intervened when Bansky’s closed almost overnight and the Howells got a tip from Emily’s sister-in-law that there was a vacancy. They got in touch with the leasing agent and soon had a great little place for a cafe of their own.

When The Corner Pantry debuted in 2014, the staff was small (six, which has grown to 40) and the vision was seemingly simple. “We wanted to use fresh, nicely sourced ingredients done properly,” says Neill. “There was [almost] nothing like that in the area at the time.”

The duo was also inspired by Union Square’s celebrated (though now-closed) City Bakery in New York City, with its chopped salads and oversized chocolate-chip cookies. “I went every single day for lunch,” says Emily, “and blew my budget.”

Some of the original offerings, from the egg and cheese on an oversized biscuit to the so-called Coronation Chicken Salad (which was a dish at Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in 1953) remain on the menu to this day. And many of the cafe’s original customers are now regulars.

Interior designer Henry Johnson was there that first day during the heavy snowstorm. As he and a group of seven friends dug into plates of duck confit, and snow coated their cars, he was wowed. “At the time, I thought the very thing that I’ve been thinking non-stop ever since,” says Johnson, who eats at the cafe several times a week and sometimes even twice a day. “This is probably the best food in Baltimore.”

WHEN THE CORNER PANTRY DEBUTED IN 2014, THE STAFF WAS SMALL AND THE VISION WAS SEEMINGLY SIMPLE.

Of course, Neill and Emily are quick to point out that it’s all about their talented team. Neill recently hired a former Magdalena chef, Angel Sisounong, as executive sous chef. There’s also MICA grad Lisa Hillring overseeing the pastry program in the sparkling new show kitchen, where patrons can watch from an observation window as Hillring makes cream-cheese frosting for gorgeous coils of cinnamon buns and paints egg wash on apple-cinnamon pop-tarts, part of a rotating series of flavors.

“I appreciate that Emily and Neill are always supportive of us being really creative and coming up with new and cool things all the time,” gushes Hillring. “That’s definitely not true everywhere.”

As they enter their second decade of cafe ownership, the business continues to evolve. The recent renovation, with its large to-go case of prepared foods like chicken tikka and deviled eggs, gave them the chance to get back to their original idea of being a place where patrons can order from an all-day menu (turkey sandwiches at 9 a.m. or eggs at lunchtime) or get grab-and-go.

“It is now what it was going to be when we first opened,” says Emily. “It has developed into what our original vision was, of having a corner pantry where you could sit down and eat—or get things to take home with you.”

The construction dust has finally settled, but that hasn’t kept Emily from dreaming up new business ideas or Neill from striving in the kitchen.

“Never having worked in a Michelin-starred restaurant will always be one of my regrets,” he says, “so I want to try my best to use the techniques they use in those place —it’s all about attention to detail. I’ve never been successful at anything in my life, so to now own a business that’s thriving is so incredibly gratifying.”

Emily likens the business to raising a family. “It’s kind of like having children,” she says. “The days are long but the years go fast. It seems so hard in the moment, but my God, having these humans who turned out the way you hoped they would is just amazing.”

While some restaurants have remained closed or have limited carryout business, The Corner Pantry co-owners Emily and Neill Howell say they’ve been working more hours than ever between catering, a new online ordering system that has increased carryout traffic at the cafe, and a large construction project that started pre-COVID-19 and will double the size of their space in Lake Falls Village. The restaurant is currently closed to wrap up the the expansion, but is set to reopen along with the new space in the coming days.

The Howells are also parents to Annabelle, 9, and Clive, 6, both of whom are home for the remainder of the school year. “Everyone is talking about how clean their house is,” says Emily, “but we’ve been working more than we worked before this happened.”

How have you adjusted to this new restaurant reality?
Emily Howell: I was sort of like, ‘Until someone says something, I didn’t believe it.’ But when it happened, we just pushed our tables up against the wall. We’ve slowly made amendments to keep it more and more safe. We do one customer inside at a time. Our new online ordering has really helped. Before that, people were just ordering by phone and someone had to be on the phone all the time. We’ve been able to bring in more revenue now because before people just couldn’t get through. Toast, our new online ordering system, has helped a ton and we’ve been able to bring in more revenue.

“If I’m being honest, the first few weeks I was struggling a bit because we buy all these amazing products from local farms and I was having to put them in a cardboard box. I got over that and decided we are going to try to put out the best food we can.” —Neill Howell

What was your thinking when Governor Hogan closed restaurants and bars for dining in?
EH: When everything happened, we took it day by day. One of the things we did was lunches for the Josie King Foundation. [The foundation’s founder] Sorrel King is one of our oldest customers. She called one day about having us do 50 hospital lunches and we ended up doing over 5,000 in six weeks.

Neill Howell: We were set up for carryout and to-go from the beginning. Now we are spending our days putting things in brown boxes. As a chef it’s not the best thing, but we’ve lost a lot in catering—thousands and thousands of dollars that we are not going to get back. It has been stressful, but from day one, we never had the mindset to close the shop—even if was just me and Emily in there. We would have just kept going because we are workers, and we want to keep our business up and keep our name out there. Our clientele is committed to us, so they’ve been coming in each day for the family meals we’ve been doing, from chicken tikkas to lasagnas. Online ordering is going really well. We’re busy, but we’re nowhere near where we were before—we are 50 percent down, but many places are worse off. Some places haven’t even re-opened and I just feel for them.

“I saw one of those memes that said, ‘I now realize that my hobbies are bars, restaurants, and small businesses.’ Neill and I, all we do for fun is eat.” —Emily Howell

How are you staying inspired?
NH: If I’m being honest, the first few weeks I was struggling a bit because we buy all these amazing products from local farms and I was having to put them in a cardboard box. I got over that and decided we are going to try to put out the best food we can. If someone is down in the dumps, this brightens up their day. We’ve had a really good connection with our farmers. We buy lots and of stuff from them and their passion has brought us back to, ‘Okay, this is cool.’ We both want to just keep banging out good food. You can either give up or try your hardest, we are trying our hardest.

What will change as a result of the way you’ve done business during the pandemic?
EH: We are trying to make a takeout-style window. We created a second counter anyway but having a takeout window that people can walk up to from the outside was a last-minute pivot—hopefully the landlord approves it. That will keep everyone who is waiting for pickup outside. All of the changes we were making were to utilize the space better, so it’s all just coming together.

One thing that we haven’t totally figured out is our cold salad bar. That might just go to pre-packed, or we might close it up and have people serve it to the customer. Regardless, it will be fine. Every single person has had to adjust to a new way. When this all ends, people will just be happy to be out.

NH: Everyone is so impressed when they come to our place because we work out of a really small kitchen. We just make it work. It’s tough, but [with the expansion] we are about to have more kitchen space and a nice, big butcher’s block to do butchery in-house, which we’ve already been doing but it has been tough. We have a new wood pasta table. The plan is to do what we’ve been doing slowly from day one—making good home cooked food using local ingredients.

I’m going to take these next couple of weeks and really connect with the farmers again. I’m looking forward to having tomatoes when we get back. And strawberries and rhubarb are coming in soon, so I can’t wait to start work with all that nice spring and summer product. I’m most excited to see the faces of our staff when they see the new space and the equipment they can use. This is isn’t about me and Emily—it’s about our staff and, obviously, I’m excited for our customers to see it.

“The plan is to do what we’ve been doing slowly from day one—making good home cooked food using local ingredients.” —Neill Howell

What will the new space look like?
EH: We used shiplap in white, so it still has that modern feel, but we’ve added in some natural colors. In our new space, we extended the counter to the window. We will have two registers. We are putting a half wall up from the counter so that kind of separates the dining room from where you would wait in line. We have some banquettes and we’re bringing in some new fabric choices and new light fixtures. It’s going to feel a little less industrial and a little bit more English farm.

What do you think the restaurant scene will look like when the pandemic is over?
NH: I personally think that when they do open back up, people will be a little bit hesitant at first. I’m sure that there will be some new systems in place, but if you make it through, I think you’ll come out the other side and you will be fine—you might even be busier than you were before

EH: We are lucky that we are in warm weather months—it gives those with outdoor dining the ability to spread out. In normal times, when summer hits, our dining room is really quiet, and everyone is outside. But I think it’s going to be hard. Luckily for us, we have that carryout model anyway. For strictly fine dining this has to be really, really hard.

Why do restaurants matter?
EH: I saw one of those memes that said, ‘I now realize that my hobbies are bars, restaurants, and small businesses.’ Neill and I, all we do for fun is eat. If we go out, it’s what we are going to do—eat and drink.

NH: It’s pretty simple. Good food makes people happy.

The first time Neill Howell stopped by Banksy’s Cafe to get a bite to eat was also the last time. “It took 25 minutes to get a simple sandwich,” he recalls. In a twist of fate, though, when he and his wife, Emily, moved away from her hometown of Baltimore then returned in 2011, Howell again found himself standing in the space—not to eat at Banksy’s, which had closed, but to consider renting the location for a cafe concept of his own. Although the spot at the corner of Falls Road and Lake Avenue had changed hands a few times through the years—from Glas Z Café through to Banksy’s—Neill and Emily weren’t daunted.

“I never thought of this spot as being cursed,” says Howell of The Corner Pantry, his now-two-year-old British-influenced cafe, though he knew that was the talk at the time. “I have to admit that in the beginning, there were days when we’d see tons of cars going up Falls Road, and yet it would be empty in here. And I would wonder.”

Opening a restaurant is risky business under any circumstances. In a typical year, about 60,000 restaurants open and 50,000 close, according to the National Restaurant Association (though restaurants close for many reasons and that number can’t be attributed completely to failures). Restaurateur Robbin Haas, co-owner of Birroteca, The Nickel Taphouse, and Encantada, sums up the obstacles like this: “Opening a restaurant is like getting a root canal with no anesthesia.”

Ned Atwater has had his share of pain. When he opened a stall in July 2010 inside the Annapolis Market House, the historic structure with throngs of tourists, water views, and old-town charm seemed like the ideal locale for his soup-and-sandwich cafe concept. But despite his rapidly expanding empire, with six outlets to date, the harborside space never took off. By December 2011, after trying to stick it out, Atwater decided to pull the plug. “We went in during one of the many attempts to revitalize,” says Atwater. “From a distance, it seemed like a perfect fit, but there was just something about it—restaurant owners do have their superstitions about things.”

Some industry experts pooh-pooh the concept of a hex. “There’s no such thing as a cursed space,” says Pierpoint’s Nancy Longo, who has had a restaurant in Fells Point for 27 years. “But what can happen is that the demographics of a neighborhood change and people stop going to a particular place.”

Once there’s a perception that a place is “cursed,” however, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. “There’s a halo effect that can occur—and it’s hard to overcome that,” theorizes industry consultant Dean Haskell, a founder of National Retail Concept Partners. “There are a lot of variables that restaurant locations need before a successful one is chosen, and sometimes, for the sake of price, restaurateurs will choose a less-than-optimal site and it will get a reputation as being a bad site for a restaurant.”

So why do some restaurants succeed while others flop?

Restaurant and hospitality consultant Arlene Spiegel of Arlene Spiegel & Associates works with restaurants across the country, including Grillfire at The Hotel at Arundel Preserve in Hanover. She says what’s critical to opening a successful eatery is to try to “understand the demographics and the psychographics of the population you’re trying to attract.

“Opening a restaurant is like getting a root canal with no anesthesia.”

“Whether there’s a failed restaurant in the space or a from-scratch, brand new build-out, it’s important to figure out the people you are serving,” she says. “What has worked and what hasn’t worked, and why? If you’re a doughnut and coffee shop, for example, are you on the right side of the highway? Is there a burning void for great bagels and pastrami that no one else is doing that will have people going out of their way because you’re the only one doing it in an authentic way? In cities, in particular, where there’s competition and occupancy costs are high, there are always some that will do well even on the same block where others are going to fail.”

Bottom line, says Spiegel: “There really aren’t any bad locations, there are just bad fits.”

That said, it doesn’t take a degree from the Culinary Institute of America to know that bad parking, a flawed concept, or poor location can lead to the demise of a restaurant. But other times, the reasons can be harder to explain.

Case in point: the Hess Shoes store in Belvedere Square. For generations, customers flocked to Hess Shoes for its hair “snippery” and sliding board. But transforming the space into a restaurant concept has yet to work. (The verdict is still out on The Starlite Diner, which had yet to open at press time.) After Belvedere Square was redeveloped, Taste opened there in 2004, followed by Crush in 2008, which met its demise in 2012. Even the James Beard-winning Spike Gjerde couldn’t make a go of the space with Shoo-Fly Diner, which opened in October 2013 and had served its last order of “hush doggies” by May 2015.

“That place has been tough,” observes Atwater, who has a cafe in Belvedere Square that has taken over much of the shopping center. “You might say that its soul was that old Hess shoe store and that changing the concept was too much. That place was an institution in that neighborhood. When you were a kid, you’d go there to get your really cool sneakers when you turned 12. People still miss it. It’s like a wound that takes time to heal.”

Spike’s brother, Charlie, is no stranger to restaurant spots with a spell. In his 25 years as a restaurateur, Gjerde has owned and operated many eateries. “When we opened Spike & Charlie’s, we heard that it was a cursed location, a cursed corner,” recalls Charlie. “Before Spike & Charlie’s, it had been like three things—Ethel’s Place, Blue’s Alley, a reggae bar—and none of them stayed opened for very long.” Spike & Charlie’s, on the other hand, remained in business for 13 years, closing only when Charlie decided he wanted a break in 2004. And though the spell seemed to be broken, the so-called “curse” started all over again after the closing of Spike & Charlie’s, with 23rd Degree Restaurant & Wine Bar, Robert Oliver Seafood, and Mari Luna having notably short runs. (Ryleigh’s Oyster is there now and seems to be thriving.)

“There’s a formula to running a restaurant,” believes Charlie, who now co-owns Papi’s Tacos and Alexander’s Tavern in Fells Point, as well as Huck’s American Craft in Brewers Hill. “But there’s also this intangible element that plays into that formula. Most of it I know—location, parking, good food, good service. But that last piece I don’t.”

About 60,000 restaurants open in the U.S. each year and 50,000 close.

Gjerde’s Papi’s, which opened in March 2014, is at another supposedly troubled spot. Prior to Papi’s, the taco joint was a few different bar-restaurants. Before becoming Papi’s, business was so bad at J.A. Murphy’s that it was featured on Spike TV’s Bar Rescue. Even with the advice, some sprucing up, and a name change to Murphy’s Law, the Fells Point place shuttered its doors only a few months after the makeover. Yet, with Papi’s, Gjerde has had a hit on his hands.

“That’s my best restaurant,” he says. And while he believes the reasonable price points and popular DIY tacos concept help explain the success, Gjerde says that’s not the whole story. Sheer serendipity has also been a factor. “Kevin Spacey [who films in Fells for House of Cards] latched onto us and came in several times,” says Gjerde. “You go into a little restaurant like Papi’s and see Kevin Spacey, and business really starts to build. You can’t plan for that.”

Other area long-suffering spots also seem to have found more permanent tenants. To wit: Birroteca, which was the dank and dingy Kolper’s Restaurant & Tavern (the site of a double stabbing in 2009, no less), then the short-lived Mill Steakhouse before Haas opened his brewpub there. He got a good deal because the space sat empty for a long time. “I didn’t know anything about the history of the spot when I came from Miami,” says Haas. “I was like, ‘This is great. We will get it for next to nothing.’” Haas’s ignorance-is-bliss approach has worked in his favor. “The equivalent would be that you bought a house in Guilford, and it’s a 100-year-old home, and someone died in there 50 years ago,” says Haas. “You might not know. I’m not freaked out about stuff like that—the past is past.”

That’s been true for The Corner Pantry as well. One Monday morning, it’s clear that the curse—if there ever was one—has been broken, as patrons queue up for Cornish pasties. The dark, unappealing space that once was is long gone. Emily Howell, who helped redesign the area into a light-filled bakery, carries plates of the cafe’s signature “pop tarts” from the kitchen. “Before this, nothing lasted,” says Howell. “We transformed it.”

For now, the verdict is still out on Haas’s newest restaurant, which has also opened in a long unsuccessful location. Back when Joy America Café opened at the American Visionary Art Museum in 1998, it was highly hailed. (“Run—don’t walk,” said then Sun dining critic Elizabeth Large.) By 2006, it had run its course. Three years later, Mr. Rain’s Fun House tried to make a go of it, but in 2014, it, too, served its final meal. In July 2015, Haas moved in with Encantada. “It’s a tough space,” he says. “It’s a work in progress.”

But Haas is not concerned about a curse. “I’m not spooked at all,” he says. “I had a black cat. I walk under ladders. As long as you don’t drop a paint can on me, I’m just fine.”