“How do I love thee?” Let us count the ways—a dozen doughnuts, a
handful of chocolates, two almond croissants, and three scoops of ice
cream. 

Okay, maybe that’s not exactly what Elizabeth Barrett Browning
had in mind. But sonnets aside, sweets and love are a natural pair any
time of year, especially in February when a gift of candy means more
than calories on Valentine’s Day. In fact, it’s the fourth biggest
holiday for confectionery purchases (after Halloween, Easter, and
Christmas), according to candyusa.com. With that in mind, we went in search of the best sweets that Baltimore has to offer.

A heart-shaped box might be nice, but there are lots of other ways to
woo your lover’s sweet tooth. Here are 50 of our favorite treats.

When I first moved to Baltimore more than 20 years ago, everyone told me I had to try the Berger Cookie. “Life changing,” they said. “Best. Cookie. Ever.” So I bought a box. My first thought was the cookie looked unremarkable, but perhaps that was part of its charm? My second thought, after tasting it, was: THIS is the cookie everyone’s so gonzo about?

I admit that, all these years later, like some sort of cookie-based Stockholm Syndrome, I’ve come to sort like the misshapen fudgy disc, but I still maintain it’s a mediocre cookie, at best. Baltimore‘s former marketing director Jessie Peterson stepped up to the plate to challenge my opinion.

Max Weiss: The Berger Cookie, as far as I can tell, has two elements. The cookie and the blob of chocolate on top. Neither of these things is especially remarkable. The cookie is a generic shortbread and the fudgy top is not exactly Ghirardelli— it’s essentially a super sweet cross between chocolate icing and chocolate fudge, the kind of thing that leaves teeth marks when you bite into it (shudder). Basically, Berger Cookie, you had two jobs: Give us a great cookie and give us great chocolate on top. You get a C for both of them. What say you, Jessie?

Jessie Peterson: I say bananas. My grocery cart always comes to a screeching halt when I spot the golden Bergers. I say golden only because I swear a beam of light engulfs the rack that so luckily embraces each package of such magnificence. Examination of each package ensues. My mission: To find the blobbiest of them all. And by blobby, I am referring to the artful wisps and layered swirls of magma-esque fudgy chocolate cascading off the sides of the perfectly round cookie. Beautiful imperfection, I tell you. And I beg to differ on the graded C. I give taste an A with extra credit thanks to the little bits of chocolate that have fallen to the bottom of the package. Who can resist the gooey brownie-like chocolate blanketing the cookie in a fine balance of super-sweet and semi-sweet deliciousness?

P.S. 140 calories. That is all

MW: First of all, your little tableaux at the grocery store confirms what I’ve always secretly suspected: That the Berger Cookie has put some sort of communal spell on the residents of Baltimore. (Beam of light? Really?) As for your assessment of the “super-sweet and semi-sweet deliciousness,” well . . . I guess we can agree on the super sweet part. And you had to go there with the calories, huh? As though Berger Cookies are somehow . . . good for you? Not so fast, my little sweet-toothed fairy. You have forced me to reluctantly bring up the words that send a shudder down any Berger Cookie lover’s spine: Trans fat. Yup, those partially hydrogenated oils that are found in the Berger Cookie and which, according to WebMD, “turn your arteries to sludge” (who knew WebMD could be so poetic?). With the FDA proposed trans fat ban likely to go into effect, the Berger Cookie may be forced to change its recipe. (Come to think of it, that may not be such a bad thing.)

JP: Call it a communal spell. Fine. A spell to awaken thy senses to take in such
a fine delicacy. Spell or not, I eat my Berger Cookies with pride . . . trans fats and all. Yeah, yeah, so that trans fat stuff is bad. I get it. Berger Cookies have been made with the same basic recipe since the 1800s. Call me and my ancestors survivors. For the record, some pizzas contain hydrogenated oil. PIZZA. And French fries. And baked pies. And pudding. And pancakes. Not all variations mind you, but for the love of snack food! To quote Mark Twain: “Too much of anything is bad, but too much whiskey Berger Cookie is just enough.”

MW: It bears mentioning that, right here in Baltimore, we have Otterbein’s chocolate chip cookies, which I vastly prefer, for both their high quality chocolate morsels and the slight hint of saltiness in their cookie batter. To me, that’s a more sophisticated cookie flavor. Berger Cookies are more like an overactive 6-year-old’s idea of heaven, a blast of uncomplex sweetness that goes straight to your pleasure sensors.

JP: Otterbein’s? Well, I guess if you like the .027-inch sliver of cookie that bears a resemblance to pan scrapings. Or maybe you just like the excitement of the almost-maybe drawing of one whole cookie in its entirety. (Side note: I’m positive the Otterbein bags are first beaten with a club and then dragged behind the delivery truck on Thames Street.) At least the Berger is two inches of solid COOKIE and not the remnants of one. You’re absolutely right about the pleasure sensors. Finally we agree on something! Well, it’s official. Pavlov’s reflex is in full effect. I’m off to Harris Teeter to pick me up a box of Bergerliciousness. And Max, I will be sure to share.

These days, there are sweet options for most people dealing with dietary and medical restrictions. “I’ve seen people literally dance when they learn they can have a vegan cupcake,” says Mark Zlatich, manager of Sweet 27. The Remington cafe and bakery is happy to fill a need by specializing in gluten-free goodies and vegan treats.

The bakery/restaurant comes by its mission honestly. Renee D’Souza, who co-owns Sweet 27 with her husband Richard, discovered she had celiac disease, an autoimmune disorder triggered by gluten, not long after she got a pastry degree from culinary school. “It was a shock,” she says.

“I realized that even working around flour, breathing it in, was damaging to the system.”

She and her husband, also a chef, then began experimenting with gluten-free baked goods at home, developing combinations of potato, almond, and coconut flours mixed with tapioca and Xanthan gum. The couple decided to open the bakery in 2005, followed by the restaurant in 2010.

While an estimated one in 100 people have celiac disease worldwide, many people are turning to gluten-free diets for myriad reasons, including gastrointestinal issues, allergies, and a desire to avoid genetically modified foods. “People are constantly learning about what foods are best for them,” says Katie Smallwood, a manager at Great Sage, which went vegan in 2010 when the owners embraced a diet free of animal products. The Clarksville restaurant also has a range of gluten-free options and dabbles in raw foods.  

Even mainstream restaurants cater to those who eschew wheat flour. B&O American Brasserie has a gluten-free bête noir, for instance, while the Rusty Scupper offers a gluten-free molten “chocolate indulgence” cake on its menu.

But, as Allison Parker-Abromitis, a spokeswoman for the Foreman Wolf restaurant group, points out, “There’s always sorbet.”

Ever since the discovery of sugarcane in New Guinea in 6,000 B.C.,
our fixation with sugar has been both a complex source of woe (we’ve
been known to cry in the face of a perfect chocolate mousse) and
worship. (We bow to the altar of fudge.)

So why is it that even
long after we’ve eaten past the point of satiation, the taste of
sweet—be it from candy, cookies, or cake—holds sway? “There’s a
biological imperative of why we crave sugar and fat,” explains Diana
Sugiuchi, a registered dietitian and licensed nutritionist with the
Baltimore-based Nourish Family Nutrition. “They give us quick energy,
which, when we were evolving as a species, was a very good thing. Our
brains are biologically programmed to seek out sweets. Eating sweets
activates the same receptors in your brain that morphine and heroin do,
but it’s easier to get your hands on chocolate.”

Although we may
be inclined to seek out sweets, not everyone develops a sweet tooth. “We
can taste sweetness at an early age and detect sweetness, but that’s
not craving” says Benjamin Caballero of The Johns Hopkins Global Center
on Childhood Obesity. “Many studies show that whether you like sweets
depends on whether your parents consumed them.”

If you do indulge,
moderation, not deprivation, is the key, says Sugiuchi. “Some people
think you shouldn’t have any sugar at all, but I’m not the food police,”
she says. “I tell my clients to build a savings account of treats into
their week and budget for the times they are going to have sweets to
help them have a normal relationship with sugar. Treats shouldn’t be
nutritious—they should just be something you totally love.” Pass the
cake, please.

You decide which desserts make the cut in our March Madness-style sweets bracket. Our Sweets Issue is on newsstands now!

Congratulations to Icedgems Cupcakes!

Wit & Wisdom

Four Seasons Hotel Baltimore, 200 International Dr., 410-576-5800.

Acclaimed pastry chef Dyan Ng may have moved on, but the restaurant hasn’t
missed a beat with its sweet endings.

Editor’s pick: “The Baltimore Bar,” with caramel, chocolate mousse, peanut ganache, a brownie, peanuts, and Maldon sea salt.

Blue Hill Tavern

938 S. Conkling St., 443-388-9363.

The
Brewers Hill restaurant, in the glow of the Natty Boh sign, ends its
American continental meals with choices like a Key lime Napoleon, a
fudge-brownie sundae, and a yummy version of baklava (layered BHTlava).

Editor’s pick: Brioche bread pudding with caramel, sous-vide apples, and vanilla ice cream.

Petit Louis Bistro

4800 Roland Ave., 410-366-9393.

The
Roland Park bistro stays true to its French roots from start to finish
with offerings like pot de crème au chocolat and profiterole à la
pistache.

Editor’s pick: The foret noire, a classic Black Forest cake with almond crumble and cherry meringue.

Woodberry Kitchen

2010 Clipper Park Rd., No. 126, 410-464-8000.

Chef/co-owner
Spike Gjerde adheres to his locavore ethos whether he’s working with
free-range chickens, homegrown spuds, or farm-fresh milk. House-made
desserts include bourbon pecan pie with buttermilk sherbet, apple pie
with maple custard, and fresh cream ice cream.

Editor’s pick: The sour cherry and plum pie with brown butter buckwheat streusel, tarragon ice cream, and dulce de leche.

Bonaparte Breads

903 S. Ann St, 410-342-4000.

The
display case at the Fells Point cafe is stocked with delectable
pastries, from almond croissants and elephant ear-shaped palmiers
stuffed with raspberries to apricot-and-pear tarts.

Editor’s pick:
The Paris-Brest, named for a bicycle race between the two French
cities—a sandwich of éclair dough filled with hazelnut cream and dusted
with sugar and almonds.

Au Bon Pain

Several locations including 10 N. Calvert St., 410-727-9827.

Since
the chain launched in Boston in 1978, the bakery has brought French
pastries to airports, shopping malls, and even hospitals all over the
world. Selections include brownies, cookies, croissants, strudels, and
cheese Danish. The website (aubonpain.com) even includes caloric info, if you dare.

Editor’s pick: The chocolate crème torsade pastry: 230 calories. Woot.

Bonjour Bakery

6070 Falls Rd., 410-372-0238.

The
shelves are filled with croissants—plain, almond, and
chocolate—palmiers, brioches, muffins, and more. All are baked by Gerard
Billebault, a native of France, who opened the cute cafe with his wife,
Gayle Brier, 15 years ago. The shop is also known for its colorful
macaroons, which need to be special ordered.

Editor’s pick: Pain au raisin, glazed with sugar and studded with sweet raisins.

Daniela Pasta & Pastries

900 W. 36th St., 443-759-9320.

This
tiny storefront on The Avenue in Hampden may have some of the best
Italian delicacies in town. Sure, the savory edibles are delicious, but
the house-made dolci are worth a visit. The dilemma will be which one to
pick from the display case, from tiramisu and fruit tarts to cannoli
and strudels.

Editor’s pick: The bite-sized elephant ears sandwiching a lemon curd or chocolate-hazelnut-cream middle.

Pariser’s Bakery

6711 Reisterstown Rd., 410-764-1700.

This
Pikesville kosher bakery has at least 10 varieties of
hamantaschen—small triangular pastries with fillings like prune, poppy
seed, and chocolate. But the shop also has classic pastries like buttery
Danish packed with cherry, lemon, and blueberry, éclairs, and
Napoleans.

Editor’s pick: The chocolate “cigar,” which is covered in chocolate icing and powdered sugar.

Pastry Ingredients

Flour, Butter & Water

The same three ingredients are used to make some of the most-loved pastries in the world.

Croissant Controversy Fun Fact

Some
believe that Marie Antoinette introduced this buttery pastry to France
from her native Austria. Though its origins are in dispute, its
yumminess is not.

Aunt Erma’s

Pennsylvania Dutch Market, 11121 York Rd., Cockeysville, 410-316-1534.

The
pies, cakes, and cookies at this busy spot in a corner of the market
look and taste like they’re fresh from a home kitchen. There are whoopie
pies filled with peanut butter, mint, or chocolate-chip cream; classic
apple, shoofly, and chocolate-chiffon pies; rice-cereal treats;
pistachio cupcakes; and pumpkin cake rolls with cream-cheese frosting.

Editor’s pick: The chocolate-peanut-butter cookie with a peanut-butter cup embedded in the center.

Atwaters

Several locations including 429 E. Belvedere Ave., 410-323-2396.

The
bakery/cafe may be more known for its inventive soups and rustic breads
that are also crafted into assorted sandwiches, but plenty of sweet
stuff also comes out of its kitchens.

Editor’s pick:
The Pimlico cake—a Baltimore classic with yellow chiffon cake with
Bavarian cream between the layers and a chocolate-ganache frosting
dotted with walnuts.

Dangerously Delicious Pies

Several locations including 2839 O’Donnell St., 410-522-7437.

Owner
Rodney Henry has made a lucrative career out of rolling dough. His
concoctions—from the sweet chocolate-ganache chess pie to the savory
steak pie—have drawn attention for their tender, flaky crusts and fresh
ingredients.

Editor’s pick: The Elvis pie—peanut buttercream with Swiss chocolate topped with bacon.

Patisserie Poupon

Two locations including 820 E. Baltimore St., 410-332-0390.

Owner/baker
Joseph Poupon’s confections are known not only for their taste, but
also for their artistic presentations. For example, the Fraisier has a
marzipan finish decorated with a white-chocolate-dipped strawberry and
is cut to expose sliced strawberries within.

Editor’s pick: The Royale—a dense chocolate-mousse cake topped with chocolate petals cupping whole hazelnuts in the center.

Piedigrotta Bakery

1300 Bank St., 410-522-6900.

The
counters are piled high with all sorts of treats—cheesecake, pannetone,
and lush fruit pies. But proprietor/baker Carminantonio Iannaccone also
turns out one of the most delicious tiramisus in town, which makes
sense. He claims to have invented the treat laden with ladyfingers,
mascarpone, and Marsala wine in his native Italy.

Editor’s pick: Tiramisu, of course.

Makin’ Whoopie! Fun Fact

According
to food historians, Amish women baked whoopie pies and packed them in
farmers’ lunches. When the farmers would find the treats in their lunch
pails, they would shout “Whoopie!”

Local Legacy

Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, and Maine have all laid claim to the prestigious title of ‘Birthplace of the Whoopie Pie’

Icedgems

213 Main St., Reisterstown, 443-690-7056.

This
boutique bakery features 140 fanciful flavors dreamed up by owner
Christine Richardson and her staff. Offerings include Banoffee Toffee
(banana cake with caramelized banana buttercream) and Illegally
Delicious (raspberry and chocolate cake with raspberry buttercream and
pistachios). Richardson’s signature pink-and-white polka-dotted vans can
also be found around town.

Editor’s pick: Blueberry-pancake cupcake topped with maple buttercream and candied bacon.

Charm City Cupcakes

Several locations including 1340 Smith Ave., 410-244-8790.

Eight
years ago, owner Sandra Long opened this petite bakery in the former
guard house of the historic Mt. Washington Mill. Her formula for making
cupcakes that taste as good as they look is a winning one. With a
rotation of more than 65 flavors to choose from, even the quickest
decision makers may struggle here.

Editor’s pick: Vanilla praline—a crown of caramel and pecans perched on top of vanilla cake.

Fresh Bakery

10351 Reisterstown Rd., Owings Mills, 410-530-0098.

The
bakery sets itself apart from all the other cupcake places by making it
hip to be square—literally. Letta Simon and her husband, Michael,
figured out not only a cute concept, but also how to make divine
cupcakes. Named after dream destinations—Palm Beach Coconut, Aspen Mint
Chocolate Chip, and Charleston Chocolate—you haven’t done due dessert
diligence until you’ve squared off with one of these.

Editor’s pick: The Monday special: Cape Cod carrot cupcake.

La Cakerie

Two locations including 11 W. Allegheny Ave., Towson, 443-275-4050.

Thanks to his star turns on the Food Network’s Cupcake Wars and Sweet Genius,
La Cakerie owner/chef Jason Hisley has become our town’s king of
cupcakes. His Towson shop focuses on special-occasion cakes, cookies,
and even savory snacks, but the cupcakes take the cake here.

Editor’s pick: The harvest-apple cupcake with spiced buttercream and compote.

Midnite Confections Cupcakery

1051 S. Charles St., 410-727-1010.

The
focus here is on quality, not quantity, with seven daily flavors
utilizing interesting ingredients like Madagascar vanilla, white rum,
and organic carrots, plus a rotating schedule of three daily specials.
We’re sweet on the policy of icing all cupcakes after they’re ordered
and allowing customers to mix and match icings.

Editor’s pick: The Sublime-inal cupcake—lemon cake with lime buttercream frosting.

Vaccaro’s

Several locations including 222 Albemarle St., 410-685-4905.

While
the bakery’s luscious cannoli with sweet ricotta and milk-chocolate
morsels may be its top seller, it also offers an array of outstanding
cookies, including pignoli cookies with almond paste and pine nuts,
butter sandwich cookies with Nutella and coated with powdered sugar, and
a gluten-free croccantini (cocoa powder and almond bites).

Editor’s pick: Chocolate biscotti dipped in white chocolate.

Berger Cookies

Found at local stores.

While
the bakery plant in Cherry Hill has been passed along to different
families through the years, the recipe—a white-cake-like cookie with a
layer of chocolate fudge—remains the same, at least, for now. If the FDA
approves a ban on trans fat, the texture could change in the future. In
the meantime, our hometown favorite can be found in other concoctions
like Taharka Brothers’s Berger Cookie Ice Cream.

Eddie’s of Roland Park

Two locations including 5113 Roland Ave., 410-323-3656.

Eddie’s,
run by the Cohen family, has long been a go-to grocery for neighborhood
types who don’t feel like cooking—or baking. The dessert case is filled
with cookies in all shapes and sizes, from walnut-filled Russian tea
cookies and hazelnut shortbreads to coconut macaroons.

Editor’s pick: Sugar cookies in seasonal shapes that taste homemade. Try the pink hearts for Valentine’s Day.

Gourmet Again

3713 Old Court Rd., Pikesville, 410-484-9393.

The
grocery aggregates cookies from all over the region—from Brooklyn, NY,
home of Erica’s Rugelach; Gourmet Bakery in Baltimore, which supplies
the icebox cookies; and Goldman’s Kosher Bakery in Reisterstown, maker
of strawberry fingers dipped in chocolate.

Editor’s pick: Chocolate moon cookies.

Otterbein’s Cookies

Found at local stores.

In
1881, Adam Otterbein, newly arrived from Germany, opened a small bakery
in Locust Point. Today, production takes place in Windsor Mill and is
run by Adam’s great-grandkids. The wafer-thin cookies, packed in the
familiar red windowpane paper bag, come in five flavors: sugar, lemon,
ginger, oatmeal raisin, and the best-selling chocolate chip.

Editor’s pick: Lemon, a great tea cookie.

SugarBaker’s Cakes

752 Frederick Rd., Catonsville, 410-788-9478.

Owner
Jamie Williams has gotten lots of exposure for her edible works of arts
in bridal magazines, on TV shows (Today and Whose Wedding Is It
Anyway?), and through celebrity wedding gigs (though she doesn’t bake
and tell). She also runs a bustling retail business in Catonsville.
Selections change daily, but if you’re lucky, the Smith Island cake
(yellow cake with fudge icing and melted peanut-butter cups) or the
country carrot cake will be available in the display case.

Editor’s pick: Amaretto-raspberry cake—almond cake infused with a layer of amaretto buttercream and raspberry filling.

Charm City Cakes

2936 Remington Ave., 410-235-9229.

Back
when most cakes were baked in rounds or squares, Charm City Cakes was
thinking outside the (cake) box with a King Tut sarcophagus cake and an
edible facsimile of Hogwarts Castle. Duff Goldman et al still specialize
in edible masterpieces, but for those of us who don’t necessarily need a
culinary replica of the Millennium Falcon, “cake jars”—filled with
pecan pie and dozens of other flavors—are on hand for $9.

Editor’s pick: Pumpkin chocolate-chip cake with Swiss buttercream.

Hamilton Bakery

5414 Harford Rd., 410-254-0797.

With
its retro décor and amiable employees, the bakery may seem low-key, but
there’s nothing simple about its very serious selection of
confections—like round layer cakes in red velvet, German chocolate,
Black Forest, and coconut, to name a few.

Editor’s pick:
Chocolate Overload cake—a three-layer chocolate cake with chocolate
mousse and chocolate ganache smothered in chocolate buttercream and
finished with chocolate ganache.

Woodlea Bakery

Several locations including 4905 Belair Rd., 410-488-7717.

Not
much has changed here since opening day in 1943—and that’s a good
thing. Owned by the Hergenroeder family and now in its fourth
generation, this is a neighborhood bakery at its best—with an
eager-to-help staff and prices from yesteryear. (A pineapple upside-down
cake rings in at $7.95, for example.)

Editor’s pick: German chocolate cake.

Yia Yia’s Bakery

9415 Philadelphia Rd., 410-238-2253.

Double
T Diner’s John, Louis, and Tom Korologos are the masterminds behind the
over-the-top desserts at Yia Yia’s. (The name is Greek for
grandmother.) You’ll find towering cakes of coconut, aromatic passion
fruit, and a Black Forest version with alternating layers of yellow and
chocolate cake.

Editor’s pick: The strawberry New York-style cheesecake with fresh glazed berries.

Layered Past Fun Fact

In
the 1800s, Smith Island natives sent these cakes with the waterman on
the autumn oyster harvest. Fudge was used instead of buttercream
frosting in order to preserve freshness longer.

Birthday Candle Record

48: Record-holding number of candles, in thousands, on a birthday cake (48,523 to be exact).*

*According to Guinness World Records.

Glarus Chocolatier

2046 York Rd., Timonium, 410-252-6601.

Behold
the red-and-white flag and the exquisite displays of handmade truffles,
dark rochers, and walnut giandujas, and you might swear you’re in
Switzerland. You’re not, but you are in a Swiss chocolate shop. Owner
Ben Hauser was weaned on the art form by his Swiss-born chocolatier dad,
Ruedi (who has his own chocolate shop in Rhode Island).

Editor’s pick: Coffee truffles—dark chocolate, cream, and coffee ganache sprinkled with crushed espresso beans.

Cacao Lorenzo

1818 Pot Spring Rd., Timonium, 410-453-9334.

Years
ago, while traveling abroad for his job in medical sales, Larry
McGlinchey discovered fine French chocolates. Back on home soil, he made
a career change and opened a French salon-style chocolate shop.

Editor’s pick: The white bars—a winning trifecta of cocoa butter, vanilla, and sugar.

Kirchmayr Chocolatier

9630 Deereco Rd., Timonium, 410-561-7705.

Long
before chocolate stores made their mark in the ‘burbs, A. Kirchmayr
Chocolatier set the standard for European chocolate shops. Twenty-six
years later, owner Albert Kirchmayr continues to practice the art of
German chocolate-making.

Editor’s pick: Chocolate-covered hazelnuts.

The Velvet Chocolatier

10403 Stevenson Rd., Stevenson, 410-365-9883.

These
elegant chocolates get a lot of buzz. Just ask Oprah Winfrey, who gave
them a shout out in her magazine O, or Julia Louis-Dreyfus, who
discovered them while filming Veep in Baltimore.

Editor’s pick: The caramel cups with dark chocolate and sea salt.

Wockenfuss Candies

Several locations including 6831 Harford Rd., 410-483-4414.

Open
since 1915, Wockenfuss harks back to simpler times when
chocolate-covered marshmallows and coconut crèmes were a food-pyramid
staple. Now, a fourth generation of family is involved.

Editor’s pick: Classic almond bark—whole roasted almonds buried beneath slabs of dense dark chocolate.

Rich History Fun Fact

The
name chocolate comes from the Aztec word “xocalati,” which means bitter
water. The truffle was named after the black truffle fungus because of
the way it looked.

The Charmery

801 W. 36th St, 410-814-0493.

“I
think of things I like and turn them into ice cream,” says co-owner
David Alima, referring to the store’s variety of flavors. Look for
winter concoctions like Champagne and strawberry for Valentine’s Day and
snowmaggedon with snowcap candies—whether or not the weather warrants
it.

Editor’s pick: Spro coffee, made in collaboration with the Hampden coffee shop down the street.

Maggie Moo’s

Several locations including 821 S. Broadway, 410-342-8399.

It’s
hard to resist endlessly combining the shop’s 56 flavors (like banana
rum and chocolate Swiss) and 31 mix-ins (including chocolate-covered
pretzels and coconut). Other whimsical cold desserts include
ice-cream-filled cupcakes and an ice-cream pizza.

Editor’s pick: Strawberry Skateboard—strawberry ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and gummy bears.

Pitango Gelato

Several locations including 802 S. Broadway, 410-236-0741.

When
Noah Dan moved to the U.S., he missed the gelato of his youth in Italy.
He eventually sold his software company and satisfied his longing by
opening Pitango in 2006. The creamy, milk-based treat is made on an
organic dairy farm in Pennsylvania, each kind built from scratch without
chemicals or flavor concentrates.

Editor’s pick: The sweet-and-savory black sesame.

Prigel Family Creamery

4852 Long Green Rd., Glen Arm, 410- 510-7488.

The
on-site shop, adjacent to the creamery operations and the family’s
dairy farm, sells ice cream as well as milk, meat, and yogurt. The
slow-churned ice cream includes flavors like Bobby’s black mud
(chocolate with cappuccino chips) and apple strudel. Order it scooped
into a cone, in a sundae with syrup, or packed into a container to take
home.

Editor’s pick: Caramel pretzel.

Taharka Bros

Available at local stores and restaurants.

Taharka’s
small factory in Clipper Mill cranks out inventive flavors like “A
Dream Preferred” (toasted-coconut ice cream with rum swirl and chocolate
Pop Rocks), named after a Langston Hughes poem, and “Pryor Knowledge”
with Nutella, nutmeg, nuts, and Nutter Butter cookies. Look for an
ice-cream truck in the spring.

Editor’s pick: Vanilla, made with ingredients grown on a small farm in Haiti.

Calories in the Cone

Sugar Cone: 40 calories in a single cone

Cake Cone: 17 calories in a single cone

Fractured Prune

Several locations including 8705 Harford Rd., Parkville, 410-661-9999.

This
offspring of the original Ocean City hotspot stays true to the mother
ship with a purple-and-green color scheme and doughnuts baked to order. A
tray on the counter tempts you with colorful offerings, including Oreo
cookie, Almond Joy, s’mores, and thin mint. It takes only minutes for
the fragrant, hot doughnuts to be placed in your hands.

Editor’s pick: “O.C. Sand,” a honey-glazed round coated with cinnamon sugar.

Donut Shack

497 Ritchie Hwy., Severna Park, 410-544-0278.

The
scent alone——wafting with honey and cinnamon——will hook you when you
walk into the store. Brightly lit shelves are laden with all manner of
doughnuts——about 20 varieties in all. The bakery, family-owned for
almost 30 years, has an added bonus: It’s open 24/7 to satisfy your
cravings any time of day. But bring cash. No plastic accepted.

Editor’s pick: The honey-dipped doughnut.

The Fenwick Bakery

7219 Harford Rd., Parkville, 410-444-6410.

At
100 years, the bakery is wearing its age quite well, thank you,
continuing to churn out pastry cases full of confections for the next
generation of visitors. Customers will find pies, birthday and wedding
cakes, cookies, breads, and doughnuts among the offerings in the
storefront staffed by motherly clerks.

Editor’s pick: The chocolate-glazed cinnamon buns.

Herman’s Bakery

7560 Holabird Ave., Dundalk, 410-284-5590.

You
know you can trust a family-owned bakery that has been around since
1923 and at its current location since 1958. The cases are filled with
cookies, strawberry shortcakes, éclairs, and doughnuts, including a
marshmallow-filled one that almost requires a spoon.

Editor’s pick: The plump, sugar-dusted jelly-filled doughnut.

Hoehn’s Bakery

400 S. Conkling St., 410-675-2884.

The
beloved bake shop in the heart of Highlandtown has been making
customers smile since 1927 with its made-from-scratch products. Inside
the corner store, the air is perfumed with yeast and sugar as friendly
neighbors stop in for their regular treats. And there are goodies
galore, from cookies and doughnuts to smearcase (Baltimore’s own type of
cheesecake).

Editor’s pick: The airy marshmallow-laden doughnut.

Annabel Lee Tavern

601 S. Clinton St., 410-522-2929.

There
is something about this Edgar Allan Poe-inspired tavern that makes us
want to curl up next to the fire and sip a decadent cocktail—and they
have plenty to choose from.

Editor’s choice: The Isadore with High Grounds coffee, Fireball whiskey, Baileys Irish Cream, vanilla extract, and a whipped-cream topper.

B&O American Brasserie

2 N. Charles St., 410-692-6172.

This
hotel bar has been producing creatively crafted mixed drinks for
several years now, and its current menu—with sparkling punch bowls and
barrel-aged cocktails—is no exception.

Editor’s choice: The B&O Manhattan with Angels Envy bourbon, Port, angostura bitters, and (the kicker) maple syrup for a bit of sweetness.

Heavy Seas Alehouse

1300 Bank St, 410-522-0850.

This
Little Italy brewpub uses Heavy Seas beer in its cocktails in creative
ways, from Peg Leg liqueur in its Manhattan to Gold Ale in its shandy.

Editor’s choice: Root-beer float with two scoops of vanilla or chocolate ice cream in a pint glass and covered with Peg Leg Imperial Stout.

RYE

807 S. Broadway, 443-438-3296.

The cocktail bar features plenty of after-dinner cocktails, like the creamy Toro Blanco and rich Black & Tan.

Editor’s choice:
Though it’s off-menu, we recommend ordering the Little King (which is
served as a shot) with Crown Royal, cold-brewed coffee, and maple syrup.

The Abbey Burger Bistro

1041 Marshall St., 443-453-9698.

Besides
the build-your-own burgers, what impresses us most about Abbey Burger
is the list of spiked milkshakes—with flavors like Berger Cookies and
PB&J.

Editor’s choice: The Incredible Hulk with pistachio ice cream, Grand Marnier, and brownie chunks.

Liqueurs & Alcohol

Baileys Irish Cream: 17% alcohol

Grand Marnier: 40% alcohol

23: Percentage more alcohol by volume in Grand Marnier versus Baileys Irish Cream.

Around the Christmas and Valentine’s Day holidays, a curious thing happens outside a Wilkens Avenue row house near Saint Agnes Hospital. Before sunrise, people brave the frigid temperatures and line up in front of what appears to be a garage behind the house. Outfitted in winter garb, they’re in surprisingly good spirits despite being exposed to the elements. Baltimoreans have been making this pilgrimage for decades, because the row house—its blinds drawn and curtains pulled—doubles as a candy factory, and the garage houses the city’s legendary candy shop, Rheb’s.

Mary Donohue stands in line at 7:30 a.m., the week before Christmas. “This is the second time this month that I’ve been out here,” she says. “I’ve been coming for at least 25 years.”

Nearby, Sheila Mayer gives a knowing nod. “My mother was a nurse at Saint Agnes,” says Mayer, “and she always got all of our candy from Rheb’s.”

“I’ve been coming here a little over 40 years,” says Lee Homens, who’s been known to show up as early as five in the morning with his Dodge Caravan stocked with coffee and donuts for his fellow pilgrims. “And I don’t even eat candy. Is that loyalty or insanity? I gift it, because I know it’s the best.”

“I always come for dark chocolate, vanilla butter creams, and caramels,” notes Donohue. After a pause, she adds: “And also chocolate-covered walnuts and cashews. Once, I didn’t get in line and tried coming late, but that didn’t work—they were out of caramels. I hope they have caramels today.”

Mayer says she’s partial to butter creams and dark chocolate. Her mother came for the chocolate-covered cherries and caramels.

“You know, this place is a Maryland treasure,” says Mayer. “We have our crabs, and we have our Rheb’s.”

“Nothing compares to this,” adds Donohue. “It’s still made by hand—that’s the best part about it. It’s personalized, not like a factory.”

They look wistfully toward the house, where Rheb’s candymakers can be seen through the slatted windows of the basement, which is partially above ground. When asked if they’ve ever been inside, Donohue and Mayer’s eyes widen at the thought of such a golden-ticket opportunity. “Oh, no,” says Donohue, shaking her head. “Never. It’s like sacred ground in there, isn’t it?”

Indeed it is, and Rheb’s is a sort of mecca within Baltimore candy culture. It harkens back to an era when candymaking was a family business, often started by European immigrants who plied their trade in row-house basements and sold their products in small storefronts and city markets. The likes of Wockenfuss and Mary Sue started this way, too.

As a result, these Baltimore companies remain steeped in tradition, and their owners are surprisingly hands-on and fiercely proud of what they do. In fact, they can’t really imagine doing anything else.

When Rheb’s shop door opens at 8:30 a.m.—not a minute earlier, or later—you get an inkling why. By that time, the line stretches down the block, and customers file inside, take a number, and stand shoulder to shoulder as their orders are filled by a half-dozen clerks who carefully hand-pack and gift wrap each box. Some jostling might be expected in the tiny shop, but everyone seems lulled by the thick aroma of cocoa and the gleaming cases of chocolates. They’re like, well, kids in a candy store.

Twenty minutes later, Donohue emerges looking pleased. She got her caramels.

“It’s a fun business,” says Rheb’s president Wynn Harger. “Chocolate is one of those things that always makes you feel good.”

Dressed casually in a Ravens cap and jeans, Harger sits behind a desk in an upstairs office inside the Wilkens Avenue house. Born across the street at Saint Agnes, Harger is a third-generation candymaker. His grandparents, Louis and Esther Rheb, bought the home when they were newlyweds. “When they came over from Germany, this whole area was populated with German families,” says Harger. “[Louis] was a baker, and I’m not sure how he got into the candy business.”

What he does know is that Louis began making candy—mostly taffies, brittles, fudges, and jellies—in the basement in 1917. And that’s where Rheb’s candy has been made ever since. Louis concocted his own recipes and initially sold candy two or three days a week at city markets: he’d sell at Belair and Esther would sell at Hollins. They started at Lexington Market in the 1930s and maintained a stall there until 2008.

Eventually, Louis developed recipes for centers (such as butter creams and caramels) that Esther hand-dipped in chocolate, and these proved to be extremely popular, so they converted their garage into a candy shop in 1950. Louis groomed his son, Albert, to take over the retail operation and helped his son-in-law, Edwin Harger (Wynn’s father), establish a wholesale business. “My grandparents and uncle did retail, and my dad did wholesale,” says Harger, whose wife, daughter, and former son-in-law also work for the company.

Wynn went to work at Harger’s Chocolate, mopping floors and driving a delivery truck while still in high school. He learned the business and moved over to Rheb’s, in 1982, after his father passed away and the wholesale business folded. Wynn eventually took over for Albert, who had no children of his own. “Except for my mom,” notes Wynn, “there are no more Rhebs, though I’m half a Rheb.” Until recently, his mother, Esther Rheb Harger, who’s now 92, worked a few hours a week at the shop.

Walking through the downstairs factory, the 63-year-old Harger says that, besides his administrative duties, he’s also responsible for “making all the candy” and stops beside a stack of 50-pound bags of sugar. “I was so glad when they stopped making 100-pound bags of this stuff,” he says, smiling. “I can’t pick up that sugar like I used to. The chocolate we use comes in 50-pound cases containing 10-pound candy bars.”

Harger steps into a long room with a low ceiling and fluorescent lights. This is the room customers can see from the sidewalk through those slatted windows. Dark and milk chocolate run through the overhead pipes, and a bearded man in a baseball cap mixes up a batch of coconut cream, which is then rolled into long, thin strips, cut into small pieces, rolled into small balls, and lined up on wax-papered trays by six women at a stainless-steel table. “The boys make it, the girls roll it, and then it goes on the conveyor belt,” explains Harger.

Around the corner, another woman plucks the coconut-cream balls off the trays and places them in rows of five on a conveyor belt that pulls them through a shower of milk chocolate. After they pass through, a woman sitting on a stool uses a pointed stick (which looks like a thin skewer) to put a distinctive marking on the top of each piece. That way, says Harger, they can later identify what’s inside.

Harger notes that much of the machinery dates to the 1940s and says that most of his employees “have been with me forever and ever, 20 to 25 years.” When asked what has changed over the years, Harger looks baffled. “I wouldn’t want to change anything,” he says. “People expect our candy to be the same, and the recipes are the same ones we’ve always used. Of course, we add new things every once in a while,”—like the sea-salt caramels and pecan turtles, which Rheb’s now makes in addition to its cashew turtles—“but basically, people like our candy the way it is. So why mess with a good thing?”

Harger pauses by the back door, near rows of time cards, and ponders the inevitable Willy Wonka comparison. “It certainly fits,” he says.

Then, he flashes a quick smile and returns to his beloved chocolates.

A few blocks from Rheb’s, Baltimore’s version of Wonka’s chocolate factory is located on South Caton Avenue. It’s not gated or architecturally grand—just a brick-fronted, blue-sided building—but Mary Sue rivals Wonka for brand recognition in this region, largely due to its ubiquitous chocolate eggs at Easter. It might be tempting to compare owner Bill Buppert to Wonka, but he’s actually more like Charlie.

Remember in the original film when Wonka tells Charlie that he’s “won the grand and glorious jackpot,” and Charlie figures it’s a lifetime supply of chocolate? “That’s just the beginning,” Wonka tells him, before asking Charlie what he thinks of the chocolate factory. “I think it’s the most wonderful place in the world,” he says, and Wonka gives it to him.

Just like that, Charlie goes from wide-eyed outsider to realizing every kid’s dream of owning a candy factory. He can’t believe his luck, and neither can Buppert, who bought Mary Sue 10 years ago, when he was 23 years old. He also purchased Naron Chocolates and Glauber’s Fine Chocolates, a pair of smaller, local companies.

Like Charlie, he doesn’t come from a candymaking dynasty—he simply loves candy. The Ruxton native says he was in the right place at the right time. “The company came up for sale in 2001, and the opportunity piqued my interest,” says Buppert. “It also provided an opportunity to continue these brands that had been around for such a long time.”

Samuel Spector, a Russian immigrant, started Mary Sue in the basement of a Southwest Baltimore row house in 1948. The company was named after the daughters of his partner, Harry Gerwig, who passed away the following year. According to Buppert, Spector expanded into three adjoining houses, and after outgrowing them, built the Caton Avenue factory in the 1950s. He died in 1995, at the age of 86, and Buppert bought the company six years later.

Sitting in an office down the hall from the sprawling production floor, Buppert smiles when asked if he had any previous experience with food or manufacturing at the time. “No, I had a degree in finance,” he says, before quickly adding, “but I do like to eat a lot, and I grew up eating Mary Sue candy. Who’d have thought that when I was 10 years old eating that Mary Sue pecan-nougat egg that, one day, I’d be in charge of making them?”

There was something of a learning curve, but Buppert says he’s now involved in practically every facet of the business, from ordering ingredients to tinkering with the machinery. He certainly appears to be hands-on, wearing a hair net and a Mary Sue vest splattered with white splotches. “That’s fondant on my jacket,” he says. “We were making it this morning, and it’s a dirty job.”

This afternoon, he’ll continue working on a new recipe, using the Kitchen Aid Professional Mixer he keeps in his office. The mixer sits on a side table, along with a few small bottles of McCormick flavorings. “It’s an item I’m trying to develop for next Christmas,” says Buppert. “See, the fundamentals of candy making are all the same. All creams have the same base. You’re using a fondant—it’s what you do to it that makes it unique.”

Buppert avoids being too specific about what he’s working on, saying only that “it’s a butter-cream base, and the trick is getting the flavor right and making sure the consistency is correct so it doesn’t gunk up the machines.”

When asked how long he sees himself continuing at Mary Sue, the look on Buppert’s face indicates that the answer should be obvious. “I get to make candy every day,” he says. “How cool is that? I can’t imagine doing anything else, so I see myself being here for a long, long time.”

It brings to mind when Wonka asks Charlie, at the end of the film, if he knows what happened to the man who got everything he wanted. The answer: “He lived happily ever after.”

During that last scene, Charlie, looking concerned, asks Wonka if he can bring his family along. “Yes, I want you to bring them all,” says Wonka, and that spirit permeates day-to-day operations at Wockenfuss, where 15 family members currently work. Owner Paul Wockenfuss is a third-generation candymaker.

Walking through the company’s labyrinthine facility in Northeast Baltimore—which includes its flagship shop at Belair Road and Frankford Avenue—Wockenfuss says he’s planning to, one day, turn the company over to his three daughters: Chris, Janice, and Jennifer. They run Wockenfuss’s eight retail stores (including three Ocean City locations) and, according to their father, “have good business heads on them.”

But for the company to have a shot at remaining viable for future generations, it needs to expand. With that in mind, Wockenfuss is in the process of moving to a spacious facility just a few miles away on Harford Road. “By doing this now,” he explains, “my daughters should be set for the next 20 years.”

Wockenfuss speaks in a slow, deliberate manner, and it’s easy to imagine him contemplating every detail of such a move. His grandfather, Charles Herman Wockenfuss, came to Baltimore from Germany in 1884 and worked in candy manufacturing for 31 years before going into business for himself.

The Wockenfuss creation story took root in East Baltimore, with Charles first making candy in a building behind his house on Chase Street and later in the basement of a house on Southern Avenue.

When Charles retired, Paul’s father, Herman Lee, took over and, in 1945, moved the business to the house on Belair Road, where it’s been located ever since.

Over time, Herman expanded by digging out the front yard and putting in the store (1955), buying the building two doors up (1960), and constructing a three-story facility on an adjacent lot (1983).

“It worked for a long time, but now, we’re maxed out here,” says Paul, who grew up in the Belair Road house and started full-time with his dad in 1971. “There’s no way we can increase production at this location. You know, the biggest changes in the candy industry came after World War II, when people got exposed to other cultures and came back having experienced other foods. The soldiers had European chocolate—at that time, chocolate was much bigger in Europe than it was in the United States.

“Then, the economy picked up in the early 1950s, so people had more money to spend on things like candy, and you also had air conditioning. You can’t sell chocolate in 100-degree weather without air conditioning. For that reason, my grandfather and father made a lot of hard candy.”

Herman developed most of Wockenfuss’s signature candies, and the company pretty much sticks to those traditional recipes. And nowhere is that tradition more evident than in the kitchen of David Koch, Wockenfuss’s head candymaker. A cousin of Paul’s, Koch, 33, has worked at Wockenfuss for 19 years. His father, Richard, has worked there for 43 years and is currently plant manager. “I started out cleaning trays and emptying trash cans,” says David, who has a baby face and looks even younger than his age. “I worked my way up to Easter bunnies and eventually into the kitchen.”

He’s making a batch of Baltimore Caramel Fudge, which is a rarity in that it didn’t originate with Herman. According to company lore, it was a competitor’s product, and Herman liked it so much that he bought the recipe. Koch melts chocolate, at 230 degrees, in a large copper kettle over an open flame. He adds butter, sugar, corn syrup, and some salt, and then it sits for two hours and cools to about 110 degrees. About every 15 minutes, he stirs the mixture with what looks like a canoe paddle.

“See how it’s starting to set up?” he says. “It’s getting a little dull on top. It’s real shiny now, but the more I beat it, it’s going to get duller or light brown.”

He’s dexterous with that paddle, beating and whipping the mixture, and it jumps to the lip of the kettle but never spills. “You beat it and you start to set up those sugar crystals,” he says. “This is old-time fudge.”

Koch picks up the kettle and pours its contents into four shallow trays and sets the trays on racks to cool. “If I don’t get it off the [metal] table quick enough,” he explains, “it will turn the bottom white. It will cool too quickly, and the sugar will crystallize too fast. It’s like you’re shocking it. It has to cool slowly, overnight, at room temperature. There’s a lot of chemistry involved in this. It’s a dying art, a very unique trade.”

Koch greets a woman walking through the kitchen on her way to lunch. Marge Plott is something of a legend at Wockenfuss, having worked there for 24 years and a grand total of 60 years at local candy companies (most of them with Miss America Candy). She says the dark chocolate is her secret—it’s good for the heart.

Seeing her, Koch smiles and shakes his head. “I’d love to work here for 40 years,” he says.

When asked if he’d ever like to do anything else, Koch ponders the question for a few moments. “I would,” he says. “I think I’d like to make Gummi bears.”