Are you thinking about your next move? Maybe you’re empty nesters and you hardly use half the rooms in your house. Maybe you want to move, but not too far from your kids and grandchildren. Or maybe you’re thinking ahead and want a place that offers independent living with more care in the future. Luckily our area offers plenty of choices.

Purchasing A CCRC
Former astronaut 75-year-old Mary Cleave had a very exciting career. She went into space twice on Atlantis, and worked at NASA-Goddard and NASA Headquarters in Washington, D.C. “When I went to work at Goddard, my cousin suggested I move to Annapolis,” she says. Cleave lived in her house for 30 years. “I would have kept living there, but one night my hearing aids were out when the low battery on the fire alarm kept beeping, and I never heard it. My sister happened to be visiting and said, ‘You can’t live alone anymore, it isn’t safe.’”

“Since I love the water, I knew I wanted to stay in Annapolis,” she continues. After visiting several communities and talking to people at each, Cleave decided on Bay-Woods of Annapolis, a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC).

“In the morning I sit and watch the sunrise over the Bay Bridge. . .”

Cleave moved in 2017. What attracted her to BayWoods is that it is a resident-owned-and-run co-operative community where residents provide vital input on operations. (In Maryland there are only two co-op CCRCs.) Also a must for Cleave was that it was pet-friendly. “I think for people who live alone, a pet is very important,” says Cleave, who lives with her dog Brinx.

“In the morning I sit and watch the sunrise over the Bay Bridge,” says Cleave, who has a one-bedroom with a patio. “It’s a great way to start the day.” Although downsizing can be difficult, Cleave found getting rid of a lot of her stuff to be liberating. And when she has company, she reserves a guestroom at BayWoods.

Elizabeth O’Conner, director of marketing and sales at Blakehurst, says, “Today’s residents are very active.” A gym is a must-have, and many CCRCs have more than equipment and classes. They may offer trainers, indoor pools, hot tubs, steam rooms, walking trails, a putting green—even gardens where residents can grow flowers and vegetables.

BayWoods has plenty of activities and amenities, some unique to that community, such as swimming in the bay off their dock. Cleave says, “With the gym right here, I take classes three times a week and do tai chi once a week. And Brinx, my ‘trainer,’ makes sure we get out and walk,” laughs Cleave.

Is a CCRC Right For You?
A CCRC is a type of retirement community that is part independent living, part assisted living, and part skilled nursing home. Today, many communities offer memory care too, and on-site rehabilitation therapy. According to AARP, a CCRC offers a tiered approach to the aging process, accommodating residents’ changing needs. Upon entering, healthy adults can reside independently in single-family homes, apartments, or condominiums. When assistance with everyday activities becomes necessary, they can move into assisted living, memory care, or nursing care facilities. These communities give older adults the option to live in one location for the duration of their lives, with much of their future care already figured out.

“I came in needing a walker, graduated to a cane and, thanks to the in-house physical therapy, I now need nothing.”

When you choose a facility, it’s also important to know what type of contract it offers. These contracts can be very complex; treat this decision like you would any major investment, including seeking assistance from a lawyer or someone very knowledgeable. In addition, you should determine that the finances of the CCRC are healthy so that your present and future services are safeguarded.

Ray, 83, and Phoebe Sachs, 80, are no strangers to moving. “We’ve lived in New York, Chicago, Delaware, D.C., and moved about 10 or 12, times,” says Ray. While living in a Baltimore condo, with their three children living all over the country, the couple decided a CCRC would give them the future security they wanted. Their children agreed.

“We are very active and decided we’d make the move while we could participate in the activities and be part of the community,” says Ray. After checking out several CCRCs, they chose Blakehurst. “It had what we wanted—care if we need it, attractive surroundings, lots of activities including woodworking (where my wife is the only woman), walking trails, and we were able to make changes to the apartment.”

Making changes was very important to Phoebe, who was a builder and does interior design. “We made our second bedroom into a library and totally redid the kitchen,” she says. “We can cook, but they do such a remarkable job with the food and it’s so convenient, we don’t.”

“Our new appliances aren’t getting much of a workout,” admits Ray.

Typically, residents in independent living get at least one meal a day. In assisted living, memory care, and nursing, there are three meals provided. “At BayWoods the food is fabulous and healthy,” says Cleave. “I’m eating better than I ever did. And I don’t have to think about what I’m going to make for dinner, shop for it, and cook it.” Many CCRCs offer a variety of dining options beyond a dining room, including informal choices such as a café, bistro, deli, or pub. Some even have outdoor dining.

A Rental CCRC
Kathryn Lewis, age 72 and retired from working for the State of Maryland, was living with her son and his family. But after she had a knee replacement and ended up in rehab, she knew she could not return to her son’s house and its stairs. “The staff at the rehab facility suggested I consider moving to the Atrium Village in Owings Mills,” she says. Lewis moved there in 2021.

“I came in needing a walker, graduated to a cane and, thanks to the in-house physical therapy, I now need nothing. What was so great was that I didn’t need to leave Atrium Village and didn’t need family to take me to therapy,” says Lewis. As an ordained minister, Lewis loves volunteering at Atrium Village and doing activities: Bible study, choir, trivia, happy hour, movies, games, discussions, and exercise classes including Zumba and yoga.

At Atrium Village there are no entry or buy-in fees, or a commitment of retirement assets, as with most senior living communities. The cost of an apartment, dining options, all activities, fitness, housekeeping, and other services is included in a monthly lease.

Atrium Village has independent, assisted, and memory care. And it just underwent a $13 million renovation. Angela Spence, senior divisional director of sales and marketing for Senior Lifestyle, the company that manages Atrium Village, was involved in the renovation. According to Spence, the multimillion-dollar renovation is part of a 20-year anniversary transformation to create a next generation senior living experience.

“There are still some people who think of senior living communities as nursing homes. We need to overcome that stigma. Since COVID and with the renovation, our goal is to have programs that help residents get back into life and find a purpose. Living well is all about having a purpose,” says Spence.

Anyone visiting many of today’s CCRCs would never think of them as nursing homes. Many who live there say it’s like living on a cruise ship; it just doesn’t move.

Part of the renovation at Atrium Village included an array of new services and upscale amenities. In addition to two restaurant-style dining venues, there are two new bistros, a library, wellness center, salon, art studio, hospitality lounge, movie theater, and family center.

Happy hour is also big at many CCRCs. Spence says, “We added more happy hours after the residents requested them.”

Many of the CCRCs have continuing education. At BayWoods there are lectures given by neighboring St. John’s College scholars. Atrium Village partners with the Community College of Baltimore County to offer instructor-led classes.

CCRCs arrange trips, art classes and, yes, the list of activities and amenities goes on and on. But don’t worry, you can be as active as you want, or if you prefer a quieter experience, you can have that too. It’s all up to you.

An Over-55 Community
The Weidmans, Hope, 70, and Tim, 69, were no strangers to life at a 55-and-over community. They had lived in one in New Jersey for seven years and loved it. “When I retired after 38 years of teaching, we decided to move to a place that would be fun. A 55-and-over community fits the bill,” says Hope.

But trips to visit their son and his family in Virgina became too much. “So we started looking. We checked out Delaware, Virginia, and Maryland. When we visited Four Seasons on Kent Island it was everything we wanted.” There were single-family units and condos, walking trails, a pool, pickleball, and, best of all, there were other people their age for socializing. The Weidmans moved into a two-bedroom, two-and-half-bath home with a den and screened-in porch in 2021.

According to Veronica Lawson, an associate broker at Real Broker, LLC, these communities are ready-made for like-minded individuals for whom physical and emotional well-being are key.
Things like social activities and planned trips to local events create a strong sense of community that in turn create a fun and safe environment. Fifty-five-plus communities are becoming more and more popular as many healthy retirees look for active communities once retired.

And for some, buying before they retire is part of their long-range retirement plan. That was true for Gamini Dharmasena, 62, and his wife Desilva, 59, both scientists living in New Jersey. “We aren’t planning to retire for five years but thought prices would only keep going up. For my wife, who grew up in Sri Lanka, being by the water was a must. We checked out several places on the East Coast but were afraid of hurricanes in North Carolina,” says Gamini.

After filling out information online for Four Season on Kent Island, they got a call from a realtor. They visited and fell in love with the area and were attracted to a 55-plus active community with lots of activities and opportunities to be social.

The Dharmasenas purchased a single family, 3,500-square-foot home with the master bedroom on the first floor and a screened-in porch. It backs on trees and is a five-minute walk to the water. “Our 5,000-square-foot home on five acres is a lot to look after. When we retire, we’ll be ready to downsize,” says Gamini. Plus, they love to travel and won’t have to worry about the house. For now, the Dharmasenas plan to use it as a vacation home twice a month until it becomes their permanent home.

 

To learn more about retirement options check out these helpful websites:
• aging.maryland.gov
• continuingcarecommunities.org
• aarp.org/caregiving/basics
• seniorliving.org/continuing-careretirement-communities

This is the perfect moment to shake off winter and get back out with friends and family. With its convenient location, Baltimore County is an ideal destination for travelers from afar or those who want to explore something new in their own town.

Life sure has had its ups and downs in recent years, but one thing has stayed the same: Baltimore County is a lively home to a wide array of activities to suit any interest. Our parks, restaurants, shops, recreational areas, and golf courses are open for everyone to safely enjoy.

In the following pages we provide you with information that is sure to inspire your next outing. Cuisine connoisseurs will appreciate a taste of all that we have to offer, from farm-fresh produce to world-class restaurants and wine from locally grown grapes.

We offer charming main streets for strolling, the perfect way to shop small. For families looking to reconnect, Baltimore County has outdoor adventure, arts, athletic, and recreational activities that will surely entice even the most reluctant in the family to put down that device and enjoy some fresh air.

It’s time to get back to play again. Whether you’re ready to pick up the game of golf, want to return to open air concerts, or are looking for a way to amp up your fitness practice (paddle pilates, anyone?), let Baltimore County welcome you with all we have to offer.

The construction of the Milton Inn dates to the mid-18th century and it began its life as a coach stop for local Quakers. It is still a haven of hospitality in Baltimore County, only now it welcomes diners with discerning palates from all around the region.

“OUR LONG-TIME CLIENTS AND OUR NEW NEIGHBORS HAVE BEEN SO ENTHUSIASTIC. ALSO IT’S NOT HALF BAD FOR A CITY BOY LIKE ME TO GET TO ENJOY THE BEAUTIFUL COUNTRYSIDE OF NORTHERN BALTIMORE COUNTY EVERYDAY. ” — TONY FOREMAN

The announcement that the Foreman-Wolf Group were going to reopen The Milton Inn— its first restaurant in the county—created a shockwave of culinary joy.

Foreman-Wolf refreshed the historic building’s interiors and kitchen, opening the restaurant in 2021 under the guidance of chef and coowner, Chris Scanga. Today, The Milton Inn offers cuisine focused on the Southwest of France showcasing fresh, seasonal ingredients from over two dozen of the mid-Atlantic’s finest farms and purveyors.

Looking to taste more of what Baltimore County offers? Try these delectable destinations:

THE TILLERY, OWINGS MILLS
Dine in on classic American fare and craft beverages or enjoy sitting outside, perhaps around the firepit.
thetilleryowingsmills.com

PERENNIAL, TOWSON
Enjoy Chef Jay Rohlfing’s innovative, seasonally-inspired menu and a “robust cocktail program,” right in the heart of Towson.
perennialtowson.com

LA FOOD MARKETA, PIKESVILLE
Chefs Chad Gauss and Johntay Bedingfield bring the same quality of its sister restaurant in the city, The Food Market, to Quarry Lake.
lafoodmarketa.com

SUNSET COVE, MIDDLE RIVER
This beach bar and restaurant with its perfect waterfront view is the place to enjoy long, warm summer days and evenings.
sunsetcovemd.com

THE HUB, CATONSVILLE
This food hall features cuisine from multiple vendors so you can sample everything from Korean street food to all things hot pot goodness. There’s even a Montessori-inspired kids play area.
thehubfoodcourt.com

BOORDY VINEYARDS, HYDES
Enjoy everything from a tour of the vineyard to food truck cuisine and farmers’ markets, all with a sip of wine from one of the county’s oldest vintners.
boordy.com

Catonsville became Baltimore County’s first state-recognized Arts and Entertainment District in 2020. The award was given by the Maryland State Arts Council, and it is easy to see why. Catonsville is home to a host of live music venues and shops—and places like Bill’s Music House and Appalachian Bluegrass Shoppe that are both shops and live music destinations. Perhaps it’s no surprise the Maryland General Assembly dubbed it, “Music City, Maryland.”

But there’s more to Catonsville than just great music, and many of its charms are best explored on foot with a leisurely stroll down Frederick Avenue. Here you will find enticing places to shop small, such as locally owned antique shops, boutiques, and artisan food markets. And whether you need a restorative jolt of caffeine or a delicious meal to recharge during your saunter, Catonsville features coffee shops and restaurants to suit all tastes.

With Catonsville leading the way, Baltimore County is sure to continue its growth as a recognized center of arts and entertainment.

Looking for more places to stroll and shop local? Be sure to visit the county’s retail hubs:

TOWSON: The county seat features small shops, boutiques, and great restaurants.

HUNT VALLEY: While the energetic town center is Hunt Valley’s heart, don’t miss the small shops, garden centers, and markets along York Road.

REISTERSTOWN: From one end of Main Street to another you can pick up kids clothes at The Elephant’s Trunk, enjoy a coffee at Reister’s Daughter, and get ice cream, salon styling, and more in between

Do you have an aspiring golfer in your household or do you want to share your love of the game with a young person? The Fox Hollow Training Center (FHTC) in Timonium is the perfect place to start—or to get a seasonal refresher.

Golf is a sport a child can learn now and play for a lifetime. Since it’s noncontact, it’s a great way to exercise with less likelihood of injury.

At FHTC, children learn the game from trained professionals and are introduced to important life skills like integrity, sportmanship, and self-control.

The facilities at FHTC are top notch, including 60 hitting stations, three lighted putting greens, and practice bunkers. FHTC is routinely ranked nationally as a Top 50 Driving Range
by the Golf Range Association of America.

Now is the time to get in the swing of things, with special offers like professional instruction at reduced rates for juniors and reduced and/or complimentary access to any of Baltimore County Golf’s five courses for golfers 17 and under. Or take advantage of one of FHTC’s summer camps.

baltimoregolfing.com

Baltimore County has countless places to get out and connect with friends and family.
Here are just a few:

CROMWELL VALLEY PARK, PARKVILLE
Just minutes from Towson, this park encompasses 460 acres of stream valley and upland habitat, a combination that makes it perfect for birding. The nature center offers many programs or simply enjoy its hiking trails.
cromwellvalleypark.org

MARSHY POINT NATURE CENTER, CHASE
Sitting within a 3,000-acre nature preserve on the Upper Chesapeake, Marshy Point offers innnovative programs and exhibits for visitors, hiking trails, and Baltimore County’s first water trail for kayaking or canoeing!
marshypoint.org

BENGIES DRIVE-IN THEATRE, MIDDLE RIVER
Recapture a bygone era at Maryland’s only remaining drive-in theatre. Featuring the “biggest movie theatre screen in the USA,” Bengies is a great spot to enjoy the latest blockbuster.
bengies.com

PRIGEL FAMILY CREAMERY, GLEN ARM
At the scenic Prigel Creamery enjoy a scoop of chocolate peanut butter, caramel pretzel, or even a choose-your-own ice cream sandwich, while the farm’s dairy cows graze happily in their pastures. P.S.: They serve way more than ice cream!
prigelfamilycreamery.com

HAMPTON NATIONAL HISTORIC SITE, TOWSON
In 1790, Hampton was perhaps the largest home in America. Today, the architecturally significant home and surrounding site offer a chance to explore and gain a deeper understanding of the complex history of our nation.
nps.gov/hamp

There’s no better way to spend a hot, humid summer day than lazing down the Gunpowder River in a tube. The always cool and shaded river winds its way by pastures and woodlands, meandering parallel to the NCR hike and bike trail. Tubing is the antidote for harried lives.

The Monkton Bike shop, housed in the historic Monkton village, offers tubes for rent for kids and adults. It has also marked two tubing routes accessible by foot. Simply walk north on the NCR trail and look for the blue tree markers to find the path where you put in at the river. When you coast under the Monkton Road bridge you’ve reached the end of your float.

The Gunpowder is generally tranquil and often shallow enough to walk and splash in, making it a perfect outing even with young kids.

Looking for more outdoor adventures?
Here are a few destinations to add to your summer bucket list:

LOCH RAVEN RESERVOIR
The protected woodlands around the reservoir feature 60 miles of hiking trails while its calm waters are perfect for kayaking.
baltimorecountymd.gov/departments/environment/watersheds/lrmain.html

NCR (TORREY C. BROWN) TRAIL
Whether you’re a runner, walker, or biker, the nearly 20 miles of trail following the meandering path of the former Northern Central Railway (NCR) offers optimal conditions. Just look out for tubers sharing the path on hot summer days!
dnr.maryland.gov/publiclands/pages/central/tcb.aspx

B’MORE SUP
Interested in paddle pilates? Or a board excursion with your pup? Whether you simply want to try staying upright in a begininers paddle board class or you’re ready for yogaflo on your board, the three locations of B’More SUP are here to help.
baltimoresup.com

ROCKY POINT GOLF COURSE
Go for par—which is 72, by the way—on this exceptional course set in meandering natural wetlands, the only waterfront course on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay.
baltimoregolfing.com/course/rocky-point

PATAPSCO VALLEY STATE PARK
There are 200 miles of hiking trails inside the park’s more than 16,000 acres. See for yourself why the park is nationally recognized for its trail system and scenic beauty.
dnr.maryland.gov/publiclands/pages/central/patapsco.aspx

Matthew Christopher graduated from Temple University with a film and media arts degree in 2001, in the middle of the dot-com bust. The job market was brutal. As he went around to various employment fairs, companies and organizations “snickered,” as he puts it, at his arts degree. The one place that did offer paid work was a private residential psychiatric facility—after he told them that he was willing to pull the overnight shift.

“So that’s why I was working there and eventually, I thought, ‘I have to learn more about this,’” Christopher recalls. “I got curious about the history of the psychiatric institutions, which I think is one of the more compelling aspects of American history.”

It’s a story that begins with lofty ideals and beautiful, state-of-the-art buildings first constructed in the 19th century that were emblematic of the country’s commitment to care for those unable to care for themselves—and then were left underfunded and understaffed over time, to sometimes awful consequences. The advent of effective psychiatric drugs, community-based treatment, and massive federal budget cuts in the 1980s led to the shuttering of such state facilities everywhere.

“I started reading about a nearby Pennsylvania state hospital that had recently closed, and I went up there and it was this transformative experience—this was real. And then I was like, ‘Okay, well, there are all these other state hospitals and institutions that are out there, abandoned, and I started going to them, taking my camera, and researching and documenting them,” says Christopher, who eventually explored the shuttered and infamous Forest Haven asylum in Laurel, as well as the Rosewood Center in Owings Mills, Henryton State Hospital in Carroll County, and Montebello State Hospital, formerly the Sydenham Hospital for Communicable Diseases, in Baltimore—all shortly before they were demolished—sometimes with permission, sometimes without.

“Forest Haven is an absolutely heart-wrenching place,” says Christopher, alluding to accounts of rampant neglect, violence, and abuse, as well a long-unmarked gravesite at the location for the nearly 400 former residents unceremoniously interred over the decades. He dedicated an entire chapter to Forest Haven in his hardcover photography book, Abandoned America: Dismantling the Dream.

 

 

The Rosewood Center, as some know, has its own sordid history, which includes attorneys helping wealthy Baltimore families “adopt” mentally challenged girls and women for use as unpaid servants until the human trafficking operation was exposed in 1937. After combining his interest in psychiatric institutions and background in photography, Christopher moved on to shuttered schools, factories, and churches.

“The next thing,” he says, wryly, “I’m obsessed and this is my life.”

 

Other shuttered and/or demolished sites he’s shot in the region include the former Northern Central Railway’s grain elevators in Canton—images just added to his website—the Penwood power station in Sparrows Point, the Gould Street generating station in Port Covington, the 40,000-square-foot Kaufman’s department store in the Old Town Mall, the Owings Mills Mall, the old WFBR Radio building—their fortunes fell when the Orioles dropped them in 1987—and the Lebow Brothers Clothing Company factory in Greenmount West.

Between 200-300 people worked at the clothing factory, which included an outdoor rooftop recreation area for women and a separate courtyard area for men. When Christopher visited the closed factory in 2008, it was full of hundreds of coats still in their plastic slipcovers. As he entered, Christopher ran into a man illegally cutting out metal for scrapping. “It would be infinitely easier to steal coats and sell them,” he recalls thinking. The factory, thanks to a $26.5 million repurposing effort, now houses the Baltimore Design School.

In recent years, the now 44-year-old Christopher, who went on to earn an MFA in photography and whose work has been featured in national outlets, has ventured farther afield. Surreal ruins include the abandoned Presidents Park in southwest Virginia, which features 20-foot busts of the first 43 American presidents, and the Chernobyl nuclear power plant and its surrounding ghost towns.

“There is a photographer I admire named Richard Nickel,” says Christopher. “He shot a number of abandoned and endangered buildings in Chicago. Mid-century urban renewal stuff. He said something to the effect that great architecture has two enemies—water and stupid men. I always liked that. He’s a bit of a patron saint. He actually died when the old Chicago Stock Exchange collapsed with him in it.”

Located within a short distance from boutique shopping, world-class dining, and the Owings Mills Metro Station, the Marriott Owings Mills Metro Centre hotel is the perfect gateway to the mid-Atlantic. This new property features 229 guestrooms and suites, a modern American restaurant “The Tillery,” a full-service Starbucks Cafe, and 15,000 square feet of meeting space. Marriott Owings Mills Metro Centre is a 30-minute drive from downtown Baltimore, and an hour drive from historic Gettysburg, and from the nation’s capital, Washington, D.C. 

“We are thrilled to open the doors of Marriott Owings Mills, offering a premium elevated experience that speaks to the needs of today’s traveler,” said Ashlyn Pulvermiller, general manager. “Our offerings and location will make it the ideal place for locals to go for a meal, plan an event, or go on a staycation, as well as offering a premier solution for guests who are visiting Owings Mills and the Baltimore area. We look forward to helping bring even more buzz and excitement to the Metro Centre area and being a part of the community.” 

Guestrooms at Marriott Owings Mills Metro Centre will offer a spacious and modern look, complete with locally inspired accents to offer a sense of place. Additionally, through a first-of-its-kind partnership with Marriott Hotels and TED, guests will have access to specially curated in-room content to enjoy from the comfort of their bed. The hotel will also feature the brand’s signature Greatroom lobby, a stylish hub of the property that serves as a great social gathering place for both day and night. Along with the Greatroom, The M Club Lounge offers Marriott Bonvoy Elite and Club paying members an exclusive area with perks, including a range of complimentary food and beverage options featuring hot breakfast, evening drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and premium beverages throughout the day. Accessible 24 hours a day, seven days a week, the space will feature communal tables and seating areas surrounding a cozy fireplace. 

Guests and locals can dine at The Tillery, a full-service upscale American restaurant and bar that will bring a modern and intimate dining experience. The dining destination will provide a high-quality selection of food and beverage options with both indoor and outdoor seating along with a fire pit. The Tillery’s menu will have a variety of cocktails and bites that will be created with local honey and lavender from Honey House, which is near the hotel. The Tillery will be open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and will be a perfect destination for date nights, happy hours, or meals with friends or family. There will also be a private dining room with the ability to host up to 100 people. 

A full-service Starbucks Café will be open daily to serve both the guests of the hotel and the local community. 

Marriott Owings Mills’ Next Gen Meeting Space is tailored to foster collaboration. All meeting spaces are designed to adapt to a variety of formats and group sizes, with pivotable walls, moveable partitions, soft seating, and modular furniture to ensure every team’s meeting space is tailored to their needs. Several of the hotel’s event spaces offer guests a private outdoor area, perfect for pre-functions and social gatherings and ideal for weddings, meetings, and conferences. The hotel will also feature state-of-the-art audio-visual equipment for an enhanced event experience. 

Additionally, the hotel will have a 24-hour upscale fitness center with cardio equipment and free weights. Guests can enjoy a drive through the rolling hills of nearby equestrian country, experience more than 13 local golf clubs, and easy access to outdoor activities at area nature centers, parks, and reservoirs. 

 

www.marriottowingsmills.com

www.thetilleryowingsmills.com

Facebook: @MarriottOwingsMills

Instagram: @MarriottOwingsMills 

Up a tree-covered drive in Owings Mills, the small hill that is home to Maryland Public Television has grown quiet for the evening. The parking lot of the old brick building sits half empty, and though the lobby glows warmly, there’s no one sitting behind the front desk or on the waiting area’s tan mid-century sofas. The offices are also dark, and aside from the wooden frames hung with faded portraits of colleagues and guests past, the hallways are deserted.

But around the corner, inside Studio B, just before 8 o’clock on this Monday night—under a canopy of metal lights, the floors swept, the stately set tidied, and big black cameras set around the room like giant chess pieces—the work has just begun.

A few dozen volunteers ready the phone banks and rehearse the evening’s lines before Rhea Feikin, the star of tonight’s pledge drive, decked in a salmon-colored pantsuit and silk neck scarf, steps through the side door. Across the way, a team of directors and producers hustle about the control room, sliding into their swivel chairs and tending to their respective computer screens just as the countdown begins: 5, 4, 3, 2…

“The television studio is just a black box with lighting and air conditioning,” says George Beneman, MPT’s head of technology. “The magic is what happens inside.”

In perfect synchronicity, the red “ON AIR” sign lights up in the hallway. Feikin smiles into the camera, then launched into her pitch. The phones begin to ring. The show has officially begun.

 

“The television studio is just a black box . . . The magic is what happens inside.”

 

Public television was born in the 1950s, when those little glowing sets first became fixtures in American living rooms after World War II. But it wasn’t until the late 1960s that the medium found its real footing, just as the country sunk into a state of deep division and unrest. The Vietnam War was underway abroad, and here at home, Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination incited riots nationwide.

Public television, with its focus on education and community, suddenly seemed like a great unifier. Its programs could “help us see America whole, in all its diversity,” wrote the Carnegie Commission in 1967, leading to the creation of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting that same year, which would give rise to the Public Broadcasting System (PBS) and National Public Radio (NPR).

But before PBS made its debut in 1970, a group of Maryland citizens had already started to lobby for state-supported educational television, sanctioned by Governor J. Millard Tawes in 1966. Twenty acres of the Gwynnbrook State Game Farm in Baltimore County were sectioned off for a new state-of-the-art television facility, while a staff was formed in Baltimore City, converting a St. Paul Street apartment building into temporary office space. Before long, Channel 67 was acquired and a golden shovel, which is still framed in the front lobby, broke ground in the then-hinterlands of Owings Mills.

Just over a year later, the Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting—the predecessor of modern-day MPT—would open its doors in August 1969, and a ragtag crew of creative young people would get to work on creating brand-new, hyper-localized programming from the ground up. “It was a very exciting time—a young, vibrant, inventive place,” says Beneman, the company’s longest-tenured employee, who started as a studio camera operator that first year before moving up the ranks. “What was public television? What did we want it to be? We were going to change the world.”

George Beneman (right) with fellow staff during filming of an MPT production; Groundbreaking for the original Maryland Center of Public Broadcasting, CIRCA 1968; “Miss Jean” feeding Aurora in front of the Hodgepodge Lodge, circa 1970s -Courtesy of Maryland Public Television

Even as a state agency, the environment was more collegiate than corporate, with a diverse mix of people of different ages, races, and genders in every role, and each employee encouraged to spread their wings. The staff, like many arts organizations across the country, was double the size it is today, with writers, editors, producers, directors, cameramen, photographers, musicians, and composers all on payroll, plus a full scenic shop filled with carpenters, painters, and designers who crafted the sets by hand.

There was the talent, too, like Miss Jean, the center’s actual neighbor—who landed her beloved kids’ show, Hodgepodge Lodge, after walking through the woods during construction to inquire about all the noise—and eventually Feikin, the MPT pledge queen. A small Walk of Fame in the front plaza now celebrates their tenure with Hollywood stars.

“It was all so new,” recalls Feikin. “People came here from different walks of life, and they would stay for years and years.” Some two dozen couples would even meet there, like Beneman and his wife, Tina, who starred in her own organic gardening show.

The station was a sea change for Maryland, too, as the region only carried a handful of channels back then. “It was a big deal, because we only had three stations in Baltimore—2, 11, and 13,” says John Shields, chef-owner at Gertrude’s Chesapeake Kitchen, who hosted MPT programs Chesapeake Bay Cooking and Coastal Cooking. “We were getting another station … and one without commercials!” (In an already oversaturated world, public broadcasting avoids advertising as part of its non-profit mission.)

When Channel 67 went live for the first time on Sunday, October 5, 1969, the station and its staff made their ambitions known, launching the inaugural telecast with the center’s first original series, Stories of Maryland, and on Monday morning, they would start airing their own educational programming for local school students. About a month later, they broadcast the national debut of Sesame Street, with viewing centers set up for inner-city kids in downtown Baltimore.

From the earliest days, MPT was dedicated to capturing the sense of place of its diverse state, long known as “America in Miniature,” and over time, new transmitter towers would help spread the station’s reach across all of Maryland and into surrounding states. The station would detail both rural and city life, from the mountains of Western Maryland to the sands of Ocean City to the streets of Baltimore, launching groundbreaking urban series like Our Street, a soap opera about an African-American family from East Baltimore. For the first time, many state residents saw their communities on the small screen.

 

“It really is the station of the people. You don’t have to have cable or a credit card to see it.”

 

Over the years, MPT has produced more than 850 productions, leaving few topics unturned, from women in the workplace and global warming to veterans and the opioid epidemic, winning national and regional Emmy Awards along the way. They celebrated notable Marylanders, such as H.L. Mencken, Barbara Mikulski, and the Baltimore arabbers. They commemorated the opening of Harborplace and the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall. They covered the arts, and sports, and the great outdoors, extensively. And now, two highly anticipated documentaries on Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass are in the works.

The station has also been a source for local, regional, and national news. When The Baltimore Sun went on strike in 1970, the Owings Mills studios housed print journalists who delivered their beats on air, and during the Watergate scandal, they suspended programming to show the investigation hearings in their entirety. They’ve hosted town halls, political debates, and steadily addressed public affairs, as shown in the ongoing State Circle and Direct Connection. “It really is the station of the people,” says Shields. “You don’t have to have cable or a credit card to see it. It’s not driven by big bucks. It’s a station that is made for Maryland, and the entire region.’”

At the same time, public stations like MPT have also made their mark on a larger scale by launching niche shows decades before they would become dedicated channels on cable. Take 1970’s Wall $treet Week, about which declared: “Who would have thought the financial press would have some rivalry from Channel 67 atop a Maryland hill?” Or 1981’s MotorWeek, which became television’s longest-running car show (and is still the station’s best performing series). “Public television was really the original Cooking Channel—Madeleine Kamman, Jacques Pépin, Julia Child,” adds Shields, whose own programs have been household favorites since the late 1990s.

But perhaps the most well-known programs, especially in recent years, are the live pledge drives, tied to that now-famous slogan: “Made possible by viewers like you.” On-air fundraising has been a vital staple for public television since its inception, with monetary contributions from audience members—often in exchange for gifts such as coffee mugs and DVD sets—being a lifeline for the noncommercial stations.

“I’m a good begger, I guess,” says Feikin, who began spreading the MPT gospel in the 1970s and whose fans have come to love her native Bawlmer accent and no-bull attitude. Even once, “I was sitting by the pool in Thailand, and all of a sudden, I hear a man’s voice yell, ‘Miss Rhea! I pledged!’ I look over to see his arm lifting up one of our tote bags!”

Lately, though, MPT has been working to limit its pledge drives, which some viewers have come to consider a nuisance. Today, the station operates with an annual budget of $34 million, of which they receive some 25 percent from the state and nearly eight percent from the federally funded Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which the Trump Administration continues to threaten. Filling in the rest is up to them, which they do through on-air contributions, online donations, and memberships, with some loyal viewers even leaving money to MPT in their wills.

And it’s an uphill battle. One of their largest hurdles these days is attracting a younger audience, as the majority of the 1.3 million people who tune in to the station’s two main channels, MPT and the lifestyle-focused MPT2, are 65 and over. Add to that the rise of cable television and, more recently, “cord cutters” who are switching to streaming services like HBO and Hulu. Even Beneman would have to think long and hard before choosing broadcast television over Netflix, and that’s coming from a man who still reads two newspapers a day. “I like the ritual, the same way I like turning the dial,” he says. “But those days are gone.”

Of course, MPT has seen changes before, like the switch from analog to digital broadcasting in the late ’90s—the biggest technological advancement since color television. Not long after, they launched their website, and in the next decade, wrote their first Facebook post. In recent years, they also introduced MPT Digital Studios for web-exclusive content and a mobile app for on-demand video, which could help bridge their age gap. And now they’re thinking about 2020, when ATSC 3.0, the next-generation broadcast standard—think of it as smarter than smart TV—might make its official debut.

“A lot of people are frightened by change,” says CEO Larry Unger. “But if you’re quick enough and smart enough, you can end up better for it.”

Still, the future remains unknown. “If anyone thinks they know what we’ll see a few years out, God bless them,” says Beneman. “You can’t even put money on whether or not the Preakness will still be in Baltimore. But, we’re getting ready.”

At 50 years old, the station is looking forward more than it’s looking back. Sure, the anniversary brings about celebrations steeped in nostalgia, but they’ve also just broken ground on a $9-million renovation of Studio A, their pièce de résistance and largest black box with lighting and air conditioning. The project is Beneman’s baby—bringing the old brick building, still charmingly 1960s, into the 21st century—and his eyes light up when he talks about all the possibilities that lie ahead.

Meanwhile, the old control room where he has made so much magic happen over the past five decades has just been named in his honor. He still finds himself there often.

Even after all these years, “When a show starts, no matter what it is, there’s still that excitement, that adrenaline rush,” says Beneman. “That never goes away.”

After an awkward pedicure in 2013, Michael Elliot swore off nail salons indefinitely. Something about the experience made him uncomfortable, and he began to analyze it. 

“From the predominantly female clients to the paint color on the wall, that place was clearly designed to appeal to women,” he says. “I thought to myself, ‘Wouldn’t it be great if there was a place that would appeal to a guy when he needed this type of service?’” 

That was Elliot’s “Aha!” moment, and the birth of Hammer & Nails Grooming Shop for Guys. After an unsuccessful appearance on Shark Tank in 2014, Hammer & Nails is now a successful franchise with locations in Miami and Los Angeles, and a new location coming to Metro Centre at Owings Mills this month. 

Elliot has created the ultimate “man cave nirvana” with big bison leather chairs, personal TVs, noise- cancelling headphones, and a complimentary frosty beverage for each client who enters the shop. “From the moment you walk in, you feel like you’re in a different place,” says Elliot. “You’re leaving the world outside.”

While all the hand- and foot-care services include nail trimming, a soak, cuticle care, a hot towel, and a massage—that’s where the similarities to traditional nail salons end. Some of the premium treatments include a Citrus White Ale Pedicure with a Dead Sea salt scrub, the “Jack and Hammer Experience” with a whiskey-spiked soak and scrub, and a Guinness-laced hand and foot repair. Men’s hair and shaving services will also be available at the Metro Centre location. 

“I saw an opportunity to create a place that wasn’t just going to be about getting a service you could get anywhere else,” says Elliot. “I wanted it to be experiential—the kind of place a guy would want to be for an hour or more and get a manicure and pedicure in a comfortable and relaxing state.”

6:53 a.m. With the exception of the smooth jazz that plays over loudspeakers at all MTA stations, the Mondawmin platform is quiet. Even the escalator is quiet, since it is out of service. I scrawl “no rats so far” in my notebook.

6:59 a.m. I get onto my first train car of the day, headed outbound toward the terminus at Owings Mills. At each of the line’s 14 stations, an automated voice announces the current stop, the next stop, and the ultimate destination of the train, along with a description of any connecting buses.

7:01 a.m. One other announcement is sometimes added to the mix: A friendly warning that “for your safety and comfort, this vehicle is being monitored. Please be mindful of MTA’s prohibited acts.” This warning will be repeated roughly eight times per loop, meaning that I will hear it around 40 times today.

7:14 a.m. On reaching Owings Mills for what will be the first of six visits today, I switch cars, allowing me to face forward. This is a four-car train—the D.C. Metrorail system, in contrast, usually runs six- or eight-car trains. I would feel a sense of inferiority when comparing the two systems, but that would be pointless, like comparing the Nationals to the Bowie Baysox. For a minor-league transit system, the MTA does pretty well.

My previously nearly empty car—which is now inbound toward the city center and Johns Hopkins hospital—fills up with well-dressed commuters. The doors open and close four times in quick succession, and the train begins to move. The woman in front of me is telling her seatmate about an elderly relative. “She was able to walk, but she wasn’t able to clap.”

7:26 a.m. There’s still enough space in the train to allow a guy to chat across the aisle: “That place out on Reisterstown Road, they make the pineapple upside-down cakes, but only on Thursdays.”

7:29 a.m. They’ve moved on from cakes to cupcakes. “I don’t like how they let them just sit there sometimes.”

7:46 a.m. At Charles Center, the inbound train loses most of its passengers. That’s good because this is the most stuffed car I’ll be on all day, with standing passengers crowded in the aisles. As the automated voice reads off more than a dozen bus connections, I find myself wondering for the fourth time how many of those buses run on old streetcar routes.

***

A NOTE ON STREETCARS: Unlike Boston, New York and Philadelphia, Baltimoreans didn’t build a subway until near the end of the 20th century, preferring instead to rely exclusively on an extensive network of streetcars, and later, buses.

There was good reason for the city to be proud of its streetcar system. According to the book Baltimore’s Streetcars and Buses, the city was the home of the first electrified streetcars, starting in 1885. Some cars ran on elevated tracks, as with a line on Guilford Avenue. Others ran in traffic.

Early streetcars were as much of a real estate device as a transportation tool: Roland Park is often considered America’s first planned “streetcar suburb,” while other areas of the city were less planned but also dependent on streetcars, with “traction” magnates building lines to benefit their own land holdings.

In my neighborhood of Hampden, you can still see the ghosts of streetcar rails under some of the streets, including Falls Road and Chestnut Avenue. And, right nearby is the Baltimore Streetcar Museum if you want to ride on one of the relics.

***

8:17 a.m. On that subway, I notice that someone has brought along a Specialized Rockhopper, which is the mountain bike I lusted over as a kid. It is now covered in duct tape and looks fairly pathetic, but it’s still probably a good way to get around. I struggle to find a subway analogy there, but our metro car is spotless, fast-moving and in great condition. There’s no metaphor to be had.

8:41 a.m. People behind me are talking about the inscrutability of the Irish accent. “Those two people are clearly speaking a different language.”

8:43 a.m. As if on cue, announcements have been replaced by a faint buzzing. I’m guessing that when I last switched cars, I got a dud. This is not entirely unpleasant, however.

9:01 a.m. A guy is rapping to his headphones. While this is common on MTA buses, it’s the first time I’ve seen it today. Other passengers roll their eyes.

9:15 a.m. I’ve been craving eggs since my second stop at Johns Hopkins, so I get off at the Lexington Market station. While the market has a reputation as one of the larger open-air drug markets in Baltimore, it also has a stall with one of the best breakfasts I’ve encountered. I buy the “super platter” of two eggs, three sausages, four pieces of toast, and a mess of potatoes, which costs me the grand sum of $2.12.

I take my breakfast up to the market’s balcony to eat, looking down over a bookstall. They have a special on paperbacks: “$8 – 3 for $10. We ship to prisons.”

10:46 a.m. Back on the train, I notice that the rail yard near the Rogers Avenue stop appears to have a lot of extra capacity. I wonder to what extent it was built for a larger system that never came to pass.

***

A NOTE ON PROGRESS: The rails on which I’m riding were not constructed without a fight.

Transit fans in Baltimore may already know most of the story. As time went on in the middle of the 20th century, Baltimore’s streetcars slowly fell victim to trends including badly maintained—and often intentionally neglected—infrastructure, alongside discriminatory state transportation policies that emphasized sprawl.

Baltimore’s single-route Metro system—conceived around the same time as the designs for the Washington, D.C. subway system—was originally supposed to fill that transit gap with several lines of heavy rail, extending outward from downtown to places like Morgan State University and the airport. Except that most of that system was never built as subway, which leaves the metro line on which I’m riding as Baltimore’s only underground intra-city transit line.

***

11:20 a.m. A heavy-set woman in front of me has a dragon tattoo that’s entrancing me as I sit in a food coma. It bobbles and ripples on her arm as the train changes speed and bounces minutely. She smells of cinnamon—is she a worker at the Fractured Prune donut shop in Owings Mills, where she got on?

11:25 a.m. She gets off at Lexington Market before I get the chance to ask her. Dammit. Now I want some donuts.

11:41 a.m. The car is half-empty and lacks conversations. I draw a cartoon of a rat pulling a train. It’s not very good: It looks more like a cat peeing on a series of tables. (I still haven’t seen any actual rats so far.)

12:06 p.m. This donut craving is getting really strong.

12:13 p.m. The train is at Old Court. The robot announcer thinks it is at Mondawmin.

12:16 p.m. The train is at Milford Mill. The robot announcer thinks it is at State Center.

12:18 p.m. The train is at Reisterstown Plaza. The robot announcer thinks it is at Charles Center.

12:20 p.m. The train is at Rogers Avenue. The robot announcer thinks it is at Johns Hopkins.

12:39 p.m. After changing cars at the actual Johns Hopkins terminus, I find myself looking at a sign on the wall, telling me that a third of adults are pre-diabetic. I briefly doubt the wisdom of a donut-and-smoothie lunch.

1:11 p.m. Screw it. I want some fried sugar. I get off at Owings Mills and grab my donut fix. Owings Mills is quickly becoming my happy place.

***

A NOTE ON HAPPY PLACES: Despite the cancellation of the red line, there is indeed some good news on Baltimore’s transit scene.

The transit-oriented development at Owings Mills is one of these bright spots. After years of “coming soon” signs, a large, mixed-use development of apartments and shops is mostly open at the end of the line, complete with a branch of the county library system.

Further into town, there’s some indication that the long-stalled State Center project might be starting to move again. That project would add thousands of residential units and a bunch of retail to what is currently a Soviet-style office block of Brutalist architecture.

Finally, there are developments like the Maryland Avenue cycle track, the arrival of Zipcar in Baltimore, and the recent creation of protected cycling lanes on Roland Avenue. While these changes aren’t directly tied to the subway, they have the cumulative effect of nudging the city away from a car-dependent lifestyle, creating a ripple effect for transit.

***

1:52 p.m. Back on the train, a woman is selling body wash and shampoo to passengers. “I had a full sack of these when I started,” she says. “You have to know how to carry yourself.”

2:07 p.m. As our train plunges below the earth near the West Cold Spring station, I find myself wishing Ben Folds had never written “Underground.” It’s been stuck in my head for most of the day—especially the line “hand me my nose ring.”

2:15 p.m. The shampoo lady has left. This train is utterly quiet, with the few remaining passengers abstaining from conversation.

2:25 p.m. I draw a cartoon of a rat shaped like a baby kangaroo holding a train car. It’s no better than my other cartoon. It looks like a tyrannosaurus with a wooden arm. I still haven’t seen any rodents of any size.

2:34 p.m. A man who got on at the Shot Tower station is now soliciting passengers quietly as they arrive from Lexington Market.

“Anybody need a job?”

“Anybody need a job?”

“Anybody need a job?”

He gets at least one taker.

2:34 p.m. We’re not at rush hour yet, but at the Upton Avenue stop, this train is starting to fill up again, with some passengers standing in the aisles.

3:00 p.m. At the Owings Mills terminus for the sixth time, I switch from an out-of-service, four-car train to a newly formed six-car train. They’re clearly getting ready for rush hour.

3:25 p.m. I arrive at Mondawmin. I have taken five loops around the system, listened to dozens of surveillance announcements, heard hundreds of intersecting bus-line numbers, and consumed more than a thousand calories.

Putting aside some misplaced directional announcements, the trains seem to have functioned pretty well during my marathon of user testing. They have been clean and fast. No doors have opened randomly mid-trip. No kangaroo-sized rats have made appearances. Nobody has evangelized me, nobody has gotten sick near me. In other words, this has been the equivalent of a pleasant homeward commute—just longer. A lot longer.

But the time of day and the extra calories are having their effect. I shake myself from my afternoon stupor, get off the train and begin waddling home, happier than ever to be on foot.

Beastly Art

September 3, 2015
North Charles Street

Surrounded by Egyptian mummies, a “unicorn” horn, Buddhist statuettes, a leopard skin—head attached—and a stuffed alligator, The Walters Art Museum’s Joaneath Spicer explains to the packed Chamber of Wonders crowd that Renaissance noblemen often collected curiosities from around the globe.

“Partly, it was trophy collecting, like today, but they were also trying to understand God’s plan. Astronomy has shown that the Earth isn’t the center of the universe as the New World and other cultures are being discovered by Europeans,” Spicer says. “A squirrel might not be proof of God’s handiwork, of a miracle, but a flying squirrel—that’s a different story. That you’d have stuffed.”

The curator of Renaissance and Baroque Art, Spicer is hosting this evening’s event, Memento Mori: A Night of Rogue Taxidermy, along with taxidermy artist and author Robert Marbury and the Hampden shop, Bazaar Baltimore.

Meanwhile, in the Sculpture Court, artists have created pop-up exhibits for an “alternative” taxidermy competition. Efforts include a pistol-toting rat standing on its hind legs, a mixed-media painting with actual pigeon wings, raccoon heads on dinner plates, and a loin-clothed “sacrificial” lamb nailed to a cross.

There’s also a “jackalope,” the mythical American creature described as a jackrabbit with antlers, and a similar taxidermied “porculope” by artist Karen Nemes, who trekked from Indiana for the show. “A friend found it [the deceased porcupine] alongside the road. I can’t tell you how many times I got pricked sticking its needles back in,” the bubbly Nemes explains. “I mean, I play with dead things. I’m just happy people here seem to like my work.”

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London Calling

Dundalk Avenue
August 29, 2015

“Are you ready, Mod? Are you ready, Rocker? Get set . . . slow down!” the starter yells, whipping down his arm.

With that, “mod” Janet Gripshover, in big, round sunglasses and knee-high stockings, oh-so-gently throttles her sleek Stella scooter as her “rocker” husband—in black T-shirt atop a 1970 Honda 350 motorcycle—does the same.

The 6th annual Charm City Mods vs. Rockers highlight “race” is literally a contest of who can ride the slowest until one rival loses his or her balance. In their heat, Gripshover’s burly, bearded husband puts his foot on the ground first—to the cheers of rowdy fans behind Dundalk’s American Legion Post. “I get a lot of practice maneuvering in and out of our alley in Mt. Vernon,” she smiles.

Festivities also include vendor, club, and custom-builder displays, and music from the bouffant-sporting Fabulettes. Bikes and scooters vie for awards in various categories, including best “Retro,” “Modern,” “British,” and “Café Racer.”

It’s all a celebration of early-’60s British subcultures, which occasionally clashed on the front pages of London’s tabloids. “Café racers”—lightweight motorcycles with dropped handlebars—got their name from disaffected youth racing from one cafe to another and back, organizer Tim Carter says. “They’d put a song on the jukebox and the idea was to get back before it was over.”

For most, experiencing a similar thrill is still what riding is about. “That’s a ’74 Vespa Rally 200—sexy Italian body—with a 225, two-stroke engine that I put in,” says Nicholas Mulkey, a restoration specialist, pointing to his scooter. “Even with my fat, 210-pound ass, I can go 95 miles per hour on that thing.”

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Pastime

September 4, 2015
York Road

At the State Fair’s Exhibition Hall, fans of baseball history stare in awe as they come across the nearly life-sized photos of Hall of Fame catcher Josh Gibson and pitcher Satchel Paige—and pictures of the Baltimore Elite Giants and old Bugle Field, which hosted the Negro World Series in 1943. Their eyes grow even wider as they meet Luther “Luke” Atkinson, 78, here in uniform, and learn he played second base for the Satchel Paige All-Stars.

The display is associated with the Hubert V. Simmons Museum of Negro Leagues Baseball in Owings Mills. “I started playing for $10 a week for the Wilson [NC] All-Stars. I signed on with Satchel Paige’s barnstorming team after he offered me $125 a month,” recalls Atkinson, who later got an invite to spring training with the Pittsburgh Pirates. “Saw Willie McCovey there, biggest 19-year-old kid I’d ever seen, hitting home runs into the Florida palm trees.”

Eventually told the Pirate’s organization did not have room for more black players, Atkinson kept playing for the colorful Paige, whose famous line about “Cool Papa” Bell being so fast he could turn out the lights and jump into bed before it got dark was actually based on a true story, Atkinson says. “Satchel and Bell were roommates and the room had a faulty, delayed switch. Satchel took bets.”

Paige was like Muhammad Ali, Atkinson adds. “He had eight pitches, but he’d always say he had three when someone asked: ‘The first one is good morning,’ he’d say. ‘The second is good afternoon and the third one is good night.’”

The first time I tasted falafel, I was in Israel and working as a volunteer on an Israeli tank-repair base in the middle of the Negev Desert. In between tinkering on air filters and reupholstering tank seats, my military diet consisted of hard-boiled eggs and tomato-cucumber salad washed down by cups of steaming sweet tea. But on weekends, I made my way to Tel Aviv, where I stuffed myself silly on Israeli street food and feasted on falafel. The fried green balls were at their best when buried deep down in a piece of pita, slathered with tzatziki, and augmented by tomatoes, cabbage, potatoes, parsley, and pickles.

When a friend told me that Cilantro, a Middle Eastern eatery, had opened in Owings Mills (by three Israelis, no less), I was eager to visit, though the name suggests Mexico more than the Mediterranean. Bad branding aside, the fare, it turns out, is delicious.

Cilantro’s falafel—well-seasoned and stained green from ample doses of cilantro—is the best I’ve had in years. Here, it’s served in a lafa (Israeli bread) wrap or in a bowl, and comes in a number of flavor combinations, including white bean and rosemary ($6.95), spicy ($6.95), and smoked roasted red pepper ($6.95). I ordered the spicy version—delicious without activating your pain receptors. The falafel (as well as other menu items) comes with a dozen or so add-ons to customize your meal (think Chipotle as you move down the line), including couscous, tomato-cucumber salad, baba ghanoush, pickles, sauerkraut, and tabbouleh, plus a variety of sauces, including a tangy tahini and garlic sauce.

My favorite building blocks included a thick hummus and salty slices of fried eggplant. The couscous and the tabbouleh, however, tasted like they’d spent too much time on the steam table, so eyeball them before ordering. If you’re not a falafel fan, there are other entrees to consider. The chicken shwarma ($7.95), carved straight from the spit, has an excellent char and is incredibly juicy and flavorful. To get in some greens, I ordered mine on top of a Greek salad ($7.94). Lamb kabobs ($10.95) and kefta kabobs ($8.95) at nearby tables also looked promising. Traditional house-made desserts, including an authentic baklava ($2.45), are there to tempt, too.

The Holy Land graces New Town. Who knew?

›› Cilantro, 9351 Lakeside Blvd., Owings Mills, 410-413-6596. Hours: Sun.-Thurs. 11 a.m.-9 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Prices: wraps and platters: $4.95-10.95; desserts: $2.45.