A Leopard (Carpet) Never Changes Its Spots

A love letter to The Prime Rib.

When I walked into The Prime Rib last November, I was delighted by what I didn’t see: change.

It was my first visit to the nearly 60-year-old steakhouse since it reopened after a renovation, and in the days leading up to my meal, I worried about it losing its timeless sense of cool.

I opened the familiar glass front doors, and before my eyes could even adjust from the brightness of the street, my ears relieved my fears. I could hear the gentle notes of the piano, situated as always in the middle of the dining room, somehow not overpowering or drowning out the chatter of diners ranging in age from their 30s to…I won’t even hazard a guess.

The familiar dark walls, leopard-print carpet, and dim lighting offered more promise. And when our party was seated, another good omen: Our server was Aaron Day, who started bussing tables here in 1973. He, like the restaurant itself, is an institution.

Brothers Buzz and Nick Beler opened on the ground floor of this apartment building at Chase and Calvert streets in 1965, and The Prime Rib has remained a swanky destination even as societal sensibilities have shifted. Men are no longer required to wear jackets; these days, business casual seems to be the preferred dress code, and you’re as likely to see someone sporting a golf shirt as you are a tie.

Nick died in 1995, but I was fortunate enough to meet his brother, Buzz, for a story a few years back. As I wrote at the time, “Spend five minutes with the man and it’s clear why his restaurants have managed to thrive virtually unchanged while the world around them has transformed.”

That The Prime Rib has maintained its relevance is a credit to the Belers’ cousin, Rebecca Dolan, and her mother, Brenda, who now own it. A few years ago, devotees worried when the pair flirted with relocating to the Village of Cross Keys on Falls Road, sparking fear that it would sap the restaurant’s spirit and soul. But in February 2023, they signed a 15-year lease on the old space, hence the renovation.

None of this has anything to do with food, of course. My simple truth is that there’s nowhere in the city you can get anything like a Prime Rib prime rib. What originally cost $4.95 now goes for $72—and it’s worth every cent.

I always order mine medium-rare, and the kitchen here knows exactly what that means: red and runny. I’ve tried other entrees, too, and while many are quite good—shrimp stuffed with jumbo lump crab comes to mind—the namesake prime rib is a no-brainer. I always start with an expertly made Old-Fashioned and an order of the celebrated potato skins.

Day and the other servers have an innate sense of timing, never interrupting but appearing when a drink needs to be ordered. Each course arrives not a second too early or late. Other restaurants should take note.

One recent meal lasted more than two hours. After dinner, I walked toward the bathrooms, which are new, and noted the extension of the bar and recently added intimate dining area in the back. These were the major renovations, and thankfully they feel much more like a small touch-up than a full-blown facelift.

That’s all this old gem needed. We should all be so lucky.

This is one of five deeply personal Love Letters—reflections on restaurants that hold a special spot in our hearts—from our 2024 Best Restaurants list. View more of our picks, here.

From behind their bars, they’ve seen it all. Blossoming love affairs and breakups. Fights and reconciliations. Joy and despair. They’ve served as amateur psychoanalysts, sounding boards for business ideas, and the voice of reason—some people need to be told when it’s time to go home While many people become bartenders for practical reasons—the flexible hours, the wide availability of jobs—others find the profession a calling.

“It takes a very special human to be in hospitality,” says Amie Ward, president of the Baltimore Bartenders’ Guild. “We enjoy putting other people’s needs before our own. We are creative in our solutions. We can empathize, actively listen to people. There’s nothing easy about that at all.”

Bartending has changed dramatically in the last decade. The dawn of the craft cocktail era has attracted those with creative and even scientific minds to the profession. The ability to make drinks using liquors and ingredients from around the world is finally treated with the respect it deserves by restaurateurs, customers, and critics alike. Although getting the perfect head on a beer is an art unto itself, engineering a cocktail using sous vide shochu with coconut, cantaloupe juice, yogurt fat-washed soju, and egg white, as Gabe Valladares can do at CookHouse, is something different entirely.

In Baltimore, designer cocktail bars like Rye, W.C. Harlan, The Coral Wig, Southpaw, Dutch Courage, and Kenwood Tavern peacefully coexist with beer bars and corner pubs. They are all important parts of our city’s social fabric, as are the people who work at them.

There are more than 610,000 bartenders nationwide, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statitics. We’re lucky to have some of the best of them right here in Baltimore.

Gabriel Valladares

CookHouse

Saturday nights at 10 p.m., Bolton Hill’s CookHouse transforms from one of the best restaurants in the city to one of the best cocktail bars…anywhere. The man responsible for this metamorphosis, Gabriel Valladares, is just 25 years old, but to sample one of his drinks is to taste the work of a wunderkind.

During the weekly three-hour sessions (and of course during  CookHouse’s regular dinner service), the self-taught Valladares’ creativity is evident in every sip. Each cocktail on the menu is a Gabe original.

Take for example The Cilantro. Valladares, CookHouse’s bar director, is a lover of mezcal, and he had begun to experiment with sous viding liquor.

“Mezcal is Mexican, and I wondered what else was in that realm,” he says. “Cilantro popped into my head, so I sous vided cilantro, a little bit of honey, and mezcal for eight hours. My friend Lane [Harlan of Clavel and W.C. Harlan] inspired me to do my own tepache, which is basically fermented pineapple juice.”

But Valladares wasn’t done. To garnish the drink, he added little pellets cleverly dubbed “lime caviar” on the menu. They’re made by combining sugary lime juice and the chemicals sodium alginate and calcium lactate, an idea he read about in a book published by The Aviary, the cutting-edge cocktail bar in Chicago. When the pellets pop in the drinker’s mouth, they add a kick of acidity to the smoky drink.

“It was a one-and-done thing that came together really well,” Valladares says of the concoction. But that’s not the norm. The ability to accept failure, he says, is a key component to being a successful mixologist.

“I’ve done so many cocktails that literally taste disgusting. They never make it onto the menu. Not everyone is going to like everything you do. That can hurt my ego. But putting your creative aspects [forward] brings people in.”

Judging by the crowds that flock to CookHouse, Valladares’ wins far outpace his losses. A former student at Maryland Institute College of Art, he’s also an avid photographer, and his beautiful shots of the restaurant’s food and drink routinely wow people on Instagram.

“I love when new people come into the bar,” he says. “My goal every night is to blow their minds and give them an amazing experience.”

Kim Vo

Dutch Courage

Kim Vo sees potential ingredients for cocktails everywhere. Over the summer, she challenged herself to begin making drinks with zero waste. This she took quite literally. Vo used corn as the backbone for the drink she calls La Cosecha, which means “harvest” in Spanish. Not only did she juice the kernels, but she turned the cob and all of the husk into a stock.

“When you put them together you get the most powerful corn flavor,” she says.

From there she added mezcal and basil to the stock. Next, she put in a little watermelon. She even pickled the rinds for garnish so they too did not go to waste.

In November, Vo tapped into her Vietnamese roots to create the Snug Bug, her take on a Hot Toddy inspired by artichoke tea. She made a tincture using the artichoke heart and charred the leaves. Then she added carciofo, which is an artichoke-based amaro, and mixed in a cane sugar spirit, plum liqueur, and reduced cider syrup.

“It gets wild,” she says. “It’s toasty. It’s earthy. It’s just perfect for the season.”

The drink demonstrates the scientific way that Vo’s brain works. She earned a bachelor’s degree in neuroscience from Johns Hopkins University but gravitated toward the hospitality industry because she treasures the interpersonal relationships.

“Ultimately what I love about cocktail bartending is the connection with people, both the guests and other people in the industry,” she says.

After stints at hotel bars and the late, great whiskey-focused bar Bookmaker’s in Federal Hill, she’s been the bar manager at Dutch Courage in Old Goucher for three years. During her time in the industry, she’s seen the world of upscale cocktails change dramatically.

“Cocktailing was [once] kind of like a very exclusive practice,” she says. “You had to go to a speakeasy or a craft cocktail bar to find a good cocktail. But post-COVID, with Instagram and that whole boom with social media, it’s more accessible.”

She believes that the culture she has helped to create among the staff has contributed to Dutch Courage’s welcoming spirit.

“It’s a completely supportive environment, and it really lends itself to this uninhibited creativity,” says Vo, 33. “The owners are super supportive, and we have a very, very tight staff. And I think, honestly, our guests have the most fun because we’re all very happy.”

Charlie Vascellaro

Clandestino

There’s no mystery as to why people enjoy going to the tequila-centric speakeasy Clandestino in Belvedere or, for that matter, any of the other establishments where Charlie Vascellaro has worked over the course of his 20 years behind the bar.

He knows how to throw a party.

“I’ve always felt like, being the bartender, you are the host of the party, which I’ve had plenty of experience doing at home over the years,” he says. “I was always the kind of guy who hosted the parties, and everybody would come to my house, and I would make the drinks for them. When I first started tending bar and I was worried about my relative lack of experience, I used to coach myself and say, ‘Just make them like you make it at home.’”

That policy has served him well. At Clandestino, which he manages and helped open in 2022, he specializes in preparing cocktails with a Southwestern flair.

Vascellaro, 59, who spent much of his childhood in Arizona, originally started bartending because he liked the hours. They allow him the freedom and flexibility to pursue his other passion: writing about baseball. His work has appeared in The Baltimore Banner, Baltimore Fishbowl, and New York’s Village Voice, for which he writes about “the Mets and all of their travails.”

Each year during spring training he returns to Arizona, where he curates museum exhibits about baseball (one on the history of Japanese-American baseball history eventually made its way to Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles) and organizes baseball-themed trips for groups of senior citizens. The groups of 35 to 40 people take in games at the spring training homes of the Chicago Cubs and San Francisco Giants, listen to guest speakers, visit museums, and eat all their meals together. It’s intense, Vascellaro says, but his bartending skills often come in handy.

“You’re kind of a public speaker as a bartender,” he says. “You’re a public persona. So if people have anxiety about public speaking, bartending can get you over that. And I think you’re also a peacemaker. You’re creating an atmosphere. I think the skills that you learn as a bartender definitely cross over in real-life situations quite often.”

There’s another perk of bartending, he says, that works out well for his hybrid career.

“I pick up a lot of writing assignments behind the bar, too. Editors, publishers, come into the bar and I get introduced to them not only as the bartender, but as a guy who does some writing. And before you know it, I’m working for people who were my customers at the bar before. It’s perfect.”

Dan Burks

The Prime Rib

Over the course of his dozen years behind the bar at The Prime Rib, one of Baltimore’s most venerable steakhouses, Dan Burks has developed a somewhat simple philosophy of bartending.

“The customers that come in are generally nice folks,” he says. “A lot of them have been coming in for years and years and we know them, and we like them. It’s easy to give good service to people that you like.”

Burks, 47, has been doing just that since he started bartending in the late ’90s on the Eastern Shore. A music performance major in college, he had a feeling that he would gravitate to the hospitality industry. (“With that degree, you’ve got to eat, sleep, and breathe music,” he says.)

When he found his way to The Prime Rib, he knew he was home.

“I’ve had other jobs here and there, but at The Prime Rib it’s not like we’re slinging beers and shots to a rowdy crowd that is out partying,” he says. “It’s a lot of martinis, Manhattans, and Old-Fashioneds. Anything served in an up glass. I’ve made a million Cosmopolitans. We go through a lot of martini glasses.”

The art of being a bartender lies not just in mixing drinks. It’s also knowing how to interact with customers. At an upscale restaurant like The Prime Rib, that’s even more pivotal. The affable Burks has a natural rhythm and intuition that keeps the mood upbeat yet still gives customers space.

“The people that we know we talk to all the time. But with some folks, you have to gauge whether they’re doing something. Are they buried in their phone? But you get plenty of regulars that want to talk sports. Some folks want to talk politics. And some people you can see that they’re with friends and they’re just catching up and bullshitting.”

On a recent night, a customer paid Burks a compliment that stuck with him.

“We’ve been coming here for a long time,” the man said, “and while we love the food and the atmosphere, we come here for you.”

Amie Ward

The Healthtender, Southpaw

Amie Ward loves bartending, and she’s devoted much of her professional life to making sure others in the industry have the tools to love it as much as she does. Ward is the executive director of Safe Bars, a nonprofit dedicated to making bars, restaurants, and other alcohol-serving spaces safe and welcoming for guests and staff alike.

She also owns and runs The Healthtender, a company that provides business owners and those on the frontlines of hospitality with the tools necessary to care for their bodies and minds.

“I started working in bars because those were the kind of people that I liked being around,” says Ward, 42, who has a master’s degree in kinesiology. “I liked talking to strangers for a living. I was taking care of myself, but I saw my peers were not. I created The Healthtender to teach people in the hospitality industry to eat better, take care of their bodies, and talk about the risks, because we have access to excess, we have weird hours, all that jazz.”

Ward started tending bar in 2009, and she says it took her a while to learn to counteract the physical and emotional challenges in the profession. Remembering to hydrate and eat while working a 10- to 12-hour shift (she always keeps nuts in her pockets for a quick snack), avoiding afterwork drinking sessions, stretching, resting—all of it is important.

“Bartenders and people in the industry are like endurance athletes, but we treat our bodies worse than any athlete ever would,” she says.

For Safe Bars, Ward’s work focuses on teaching the staff of any alcohol-serving establishment how to do bystander intervention, deescalation, and intervene in safe and non-confrontational ways to prevent sexual assault, sexual aggression, and other forms of violence.

“My world has mostly transitioned to advocacy work for the hospitality industry, doing a lot of health and wellness for people to make sure that they can stay in this business that we love for so long.”

But because she so treasures the work, Ward still steps behind the bar for the occasional shift at Southpaw in Fells Point.

“I love creating ridiculously over-the-top drinks and really special experiences for people,” she says. “I’m just one of those weirdos who loves the community and loves the job. I still have those moments when I want to be bartending. I fucking love it so much.”

Andre Levon

Clavel

Andre Levon, 37, has been tending bar for nearly half his life. A native of upstate New York, he started working at Turp’s in Mount Vernon before arriving at Clavel nine years ago. After all those years behind the bar, he still savors the relationships he builds with his customers.

“I find myself interacting with lots of different types of people,” he says. “You meet engineers and all these literate people. If anybody in the industry tells you that at this point that isn’t still a part of their job that they dig, they’re [over it] because it still is such a great thing.”

Levon has helped the popularity of the renowned Mexican restaurant’s cocktail list keep pace with its food. He leads mezcal tastings each Tuesday and, along with the team, plays a big role in curating the cocktail list. (He’s also part of the reason that the taqueria has been twice nominated for a James Beard Award in the Outstanding Bar category.)

He starts working on drinks three months prior to a menu change, a process that often includes traveling to Mexico, which is where he came up with the inspiration for the drink Tuba Por Favor. It’s based on the Filipino alcoholic beverage tubâ, which is made from the sap of palm trees and was introduced to Mexico centuries ago.

Levon’s cocktail combines tepache, coconut liqueur, lime juice, housemade kümel, and honey. It’s served shaken in a Hurricane glass.

“It’s a good amount of volume,” he says. “It’ll put a little buzz on but for the most part I designed it to be something that someone could enjoy for a while without getting too drunk.”

Although there’s no mezcal in that drink, it’s clear that the agave based liquor holds a treasured place in his heart.

“Mezcal is, of course, an agricultural product, but mezcal is a cultural product as well,” he says. “We have Mexico so close. We’re on the same continent, you know? And it is so vastly different from us. In a way, being able to drink mezcal connects me to this other culture in a really serious way in language, in art, and in cuisine.

“It doesn’t hurt that it’s delicious.”

This piece appeared in our March 2024 issue. For more great Baltimore stories, consider becoming a subscriber.

For many years, Richard Gorelick explored the workings of Baltimore restaurants, writing food reviews for The Baltimore Sun and other publications. After taking a break, he’s back in the business—this time on the other side of the restaurant world as a host at Foraged in Station North.

“My job is to manage the people coming in and to make sure that they’re seated in a way that doesn’t tax the kitchen too much,” Gorelick says. “It’s fun. It’s like playing Jenga, switching tables and trying to make sure individual servers aren’t overwhelmed.”

Gorelick, who has been at the restaurant since 2021, when it relocated from Hampden to its new location, likes being part of the front of house.

“It’s a great fit for me,” he says. “I really like it there. It’s what I imagined. The front of house works as support for the kitchen.”

In restaurant lingo, the front of house includes the parts of a restaurant that a customer sees, including servers, bartenders, food runners, and bar backs, and operations like table and bar service. The back of house refers to areas most diners don’t experience, like the kitchen, prep areas, and offices.

While several fields were interrupted by the pandemic, none was affected more so than the hospitality industry. At the height of COVID, many front-of-house staff were laid off as restaurants struggled to remain afloat—others left by their own choice in droves. The volatility of the hospitality industry, the health risks associated with COVID, and worker burnout all contributed to the massive loss of hospitality jobs in the U.S. since February 2020.

But luckily for us, some workers, like the six people we spoke with below, stuck it out. (One even joined the industry on the tail end of the pandemic.) Most of our interviewees agree that, despite the hardships of the past years, restaurant life is getting back to pre-pandemic times.

Peter Keck

Charleston

Maître d’hôtel Peter Keck is the go-to guy at Charleston in Harbor East. The fancy French title on his business card simply means he manages the restaurant, he says.

Though he downplays his role, the restaurant was recently named a semi-finalist for a James Beard Award for Outstanding Hospitality, which is no small feat. If something is amiss with a diner—their table isn’t ready when they arrive, for instance—Keck will step in to smooth out the situation, maybe offering a free glass of wine.

“The best part of my job is I get to make people happy and call that my career,” he says. “The worst part of my job is that sometimes you feel like you are the black hole for everything that’s going wrong.”

Keck has been with the owners, chef Cindy Wolf and Tony Foreman, since they opened Savannah in Fells Point in 1995. While he’s taken a few breaks when his daughters, now 25 and 22, were younger, he has spent most of his career with the business partners. He’s held various positions during his tenure, including as beverage manager in Charleston’s early days. He recalls one evening when a regular guest sat at the bar chatting after his dinner and left a $1,000 tip on an $85 bill.

“It was over the top,” Keck recalls. “It’s not every day you get to pay your rent with a tip.”

Currently, his official 10-hour day at Charleston starts at 4 p.m., but the Fells Point resident deals with myriad issues before even walking in the door. The text messages from staff start around 11:30 a.m., he says, with missives like: “Something is on fire.” “This staffer has a sick child.” “This person fell off a scooter.”

“THE BEST PART OF MY JOB IS I GET TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY AND CALL THAT MY CAREER.”

Once at work, he checks in with the staff before service begins to address any other concerns. There are typically about 23 front-of-house workers, from servers and bartenders to hosts and food runners, on duty each night. Despite being impeccably dressed in an Ermenegildo Zegna Italian suit, Keck has been known to climb a ladder and peer into the ceiling to fix a clogged pipe during his day. But mostly, he circulates through the restaurant interacting with customers.

“I’m driven by the expression on people’s faces and the atmosphere in the dining room,” he says. “That’s all the bottom line I need, people smiling and telling us they will come back again.”

At 57, Keck has no plans to slow down, but he has thought about the future.

“Tony and I talk about being two old guys who hang around the wine shop and pop into the restaurants,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t know how likely that is to happen, but I’m sure we will fulfill that to a certain extent.”

Aaron Day

The Prime Rib

Aaron Day, who has been lugging plates of juicy beef at The Prime Rib since 1973, rattles off an impressive list of diners he’s waited on: Rosa Parks, Mohammad Ali, Joe Frazier, Oprah Winfrey, Montel Williams, Liberace, and Maya Angelou, to name a few of the famous folks who have graced his tables. In the beginning, Day used to get starstruck by the celebrity clientele.

“I would get a little intimidated,” he admits. “But now, it’s kind of easy.”

He remembers talking to Parks about Dr. Levi Watkins Jr., a Johns Hopkins heart surgeon who implanted her pacemaker and would bring her to the restaurant on her check-up visits to Baltimore. Occasionally, Day will drive his well-known customers to their lodgings. One evening, he chauffeured Tom and Dick Smothers of the Smothers Brothers comedy-musical duo to the Lord Baltimore Hotel.

“They lit up some marijuana and told me not to tell anyone,” Day says. “I was worried the police would pull me over.” They didn’t.

Local hotshots also make their appearances at the restaurant, from Ravens kicker Justin Tucker (he’s gracious about taking selfies with diners, Day says) and Fox45’s Kai Jackson to attorneys Billy Murphy and Warren Brown.

“This is where everybody in Baltimore City comes for a dining experience,” he says.

Day, who grew up in Edmondson Village, started at The Prime Rib as a busboy when he was 15, moving up to a waiter position when he turned 21. He was the only African-American server in the dining room at the time, he says, and was thrilled to be more than doubling his salary.  He has been a stickler about finances since he was a boy, cutting grass for his neighbors and learning about the stock market.

“I would go to the bank every day and put money away,” he says. “I came away with this thing for saving money.”

In high school, he bought his first car: a white 1970 Lincoln Continental. “The police used to pull me over two or three times a day and harass me a little bit,” he recalls. “They wondered how a guy like me could afford a car like that. I told them I worked at The Prime Rib.”

Now, Day, 65, arrives at the restaurant around 3:45 p.m. four nights a week to set up his station and make sure each place setting is pristine. He changes into a black tuxedo, the required attire for servers, before the first diners arrive at 5 p.m., usually finishing up his duties at 11 p.m.

He’s going to work as long as his legs hold out, he says. When Day does retire, he plans to trade stocks, take care of his family (a son, daughter, granddaughter, and grandson), and, oh, go out to dinner.

Oscar Galvis

Restaurante Tio Pepe

Oscar Galvis had no idea when he started working at Tio Pepe in 1975 that he’d be waiting tables at one of Baltimore’s longest running restaurants 47 years later.

“I like the people, and besides, it’s a living,” he says. “That why I stay there.”

He’s witnessed wedding proposals and various celebrations in the past decades, but he particularly remembers a couple who met at Tio Pepe on a blind date years ago. The couple eventually married and still come to Tio Pepe, he says.

Galvis, a Colombia native, was drawn to Baltimore because of a romantic interest when he was 19 years old. Looking for a job, he headed to Tio Pepe, known for its Spanish-Mediterranean cuisine, after a friend urged him to apply because “they needed Spanish-speaking people,” he says.

The bilingual Galvis was hired as a busboy, happily slipping into the signature gold jacket that’s the uniform of the job. But the eager worker soon donned a blue jacket as a food runner, working his way up to server with the coveted red jacket of the position.

The colorful, formal attire has been worn since the Mt. Vernon classic opened in 1968. And while much of the old-school restaurant hasn’t changed, there have been some adjustments. Lunch is no longer offered, and the workers, who once toiled six or seven days a week, have more manageable hours.

“TO HAVE ALL THESE PEOPLE, SECOND, THIRD, AND FOURTH GENERATIONS, COME HERE IS THE BEST PART.”

Galvis, now 69, works between three and five days a week, starting at 5:30 p.m. The years have taken a toll on him physically, though, causing knee problems. He shrugs off the discomfort, saying, “That’s part of life.”

During his work evenings, Galvis juggles up to nine tables a night, depending on how busy the restaurant is. His secret to dealing with diners: “You need patience,” Galvis says. “You have to make things more relaxing.”

Over the years, he’s watched customers bring their children, grandchildren, and even their great-grandchildren to the restaurant. That’s his reward, he says: “To have all these people, second, third, and fourth generations, come here is the best part.”

Jillian Garner

Kooper’s Tavern

At 26, Jillian Garner sees waiting tables as a means to an end. “I want to start on a psychology degree,” she says. “I’ve always dreamed of being a Towson Tiger.”

Garner, who lives in the Oliver neighborhood of East Baltimore, strives to be financially independent. “I have to do everything on my own,” she explains. “I have to put myself through [school].”

After graduating from Glen Burnie High School, Garner enrolled in a medical-assisting program at a local trade school, ending up at a plasma center. She realized that wasn’t her calling and took a job at Outback Steakhouse in Canton in 2018. She eventually ended up at the now-closed Lucky Buns in Fells Point in early 2022. After rumors flew that the restaurant was closing for “renovations,” she applied for a job at Kooper’s Tavern in Fells Point and has been a full-time server since last April.

“I decided to give it a try, and I love it,” she says. Garner starts her five-day workweek at 9:30 a.m. on weekdays and at 9 a.m. on weekends, when she works double shifts. “It’s a good money maker,” she says with a laugh. “I’m always down for a dollar.”

Before diners arrive, Garner gets the tables ready and sets up the silverware, among other duties. She appreciates the customers who engage with her.

“I love that they ask me for my name and ask me how my day is,” she says. “It makes a huge difference.”

She’s also prepared for cranky customers. “Of course, we have moments when people aren’t happy, and we do everything to make it right,” she says. “Even if we think they’re not going to tip, everyone gets treated the same way with a smile.”

Thebonus is the people she’s met. “I’ve made great friends along the way,” she says. “The clientele is a family in itself.”

Teresa Marconi

Thames Street Oyster House

Only Teresa Marconi can make wolffish—an Icelandic specimen prized by chefs for its sweet, crab-like texture—sound like a dish you’ve been waiting for your whole life.

She’s done research on the fish, a special on some evenings, before she even approaches the upstairs tables she waits on at Thames Street Oyster House, gleaning information from executive chef Eric Houseknecht and exploring questions like, “How ugly is a wolffish? How lean is the meat?” Her resulting spiel gets everyone’s attention.

“People don’t know what this stuff is,” she says. “How will they order it if I don’t tell them?”

Marconi, who has been with the Oyster House almost from the beginning, when it opened in 2011 in Fells Point, takes great pride in ensuring the restaurant’s diners leave satisfied.

“I like to make people feel like they’re in good hands with me and the food,” she says.

One of her customers drives from out of town just to order the restaurant’s signature five-pound lobster stuffed with crab, shrimp, and scallops. He’s ordered it so often—probably at least 10 times over the years, Marconi says—that the kitchen has named the dish “The Paris Brown” after him.

“He and his wife eat what they can and take the rest home,” Marconi says. “Then, they eat it for the rest of the week.”

“WE’RE BACK TO BEING BUSY. IT’S PRETTY MUCH A STRAIGHT RUSH. THERE’S A LOT OF PHYSICAL WORK TO IT.”

Marconi, 60, has been wowing customers since 1983, when she worked as a summer waitress at Brass Balls Saloon in Ocean City to earn money to pay for college. Even after she graduated from then-Towson State University with a degree in mass communications, she leaned toward the hospitality business, settling in at John Steven Ltd. in Fells Point for 14 ½ years before following her friend, chef-owner Jason Ambrose, to Salt Tavern in Butchers Hill in 2006.

Along the way, the Idlewylde resident and her partner, Bruce Dombeck, had two sons: Clay, who is now 23, and Beau, 18.

During the pandemic, Marconi helped with the Oyster House’s carryout service and outdoor customers until the restaurant was fully operational again.

“It feels the same to me now,” she says. “We’re back to being busy.” Marconi’s day starts around 3 p.m., when she checks in for her shift, setting up the dining room and making sure the wine station is organized. At 4:30, diners begin to arrive for what Marconi calls “four and a half hard hours.”

“It’s pretty much a straight rush,” she says. “There’s a lot of physical work to it.”

She usually avoids making any serious mistakes during service, though occasionally she’ll inadvertently knock over a diner’s water glass (“Thankfully, not red wine” she says.) And, sure, various local sports figures like Ravens kicker Justin Tucker and linebacker Joshua Bynes pop in, but everyone gets the Marconi treatment if they’re sitting at one of her tables.

“They’re VIPs,” she says. “But everybody is a VIP to me.”

Richard Afrookteh

The Bygone

Richard “Rich” Afrookteh at The Bygone in Harbor East came into the hospitality field in a roundabout way. First, he practiced law; then, he became a business owner, running a bus company that transported students to private and parochial schools.

But in 2018, Afrookteh realized it was time to pursue his dream of working in the restaurant field.

“I decided that I’m going to do what I really wanted to do and be in the food industry,” he says.

Today, at The Bygone, he serves a range of customers, from groups of teenagers celebrating birthdays to prominent diners with deep pockets. Recently, he waited on a couple who enjoyed a meal with pricey bottles of Champagne and red wine. At the end of the $3,000 meal, the husband tacked on a $2,500 tip.

“I was floored,” Afrookteh says. “I still have the receipt.”

Afrookteh, who grew up in Catonsville, had always been fascinated by food, influenced by his dietitian mother, TV cooking shows, and watching his grandmother cook. After high school, he worked as a server in Ocean City, where he experienced one of his most embarrassing incidents, at Mario’s Italian Restaurant.

Afrookteh was dishing out scoops of shrimp scampi from a serving dish to a table of diners when a man began gesticulating, causing the dish to tilt and drip some of the gooey contents onto the man’s toupee.

“He had venom in his eyes,” Afrookteh recalls. “It was mortifying.”

That didn’t deter the 19-year-old from wanting to pursue a hospitality career. However, his father, a general surgeon, “never supported that kind of notion,” he says, so he went to the University of Delaware and then University of Baltimore School of Law before working in the Maryland Office of the Attorney General.

When Afrookteh’s children arrived—two daughters, now 28 and 25—he went into private practice. After he left the bus enterprise, he saw an opening for a server at the now-closed Alexander Brown Restaurant in downtown Baltimore.

“I applied online, and they hired me,” he says. “I thought, ‘I guess I can get back in the front of house.’”

When the restaurant closed during the pandemic, Afrookteh, who lives in an Inner Harbor condo, headed to Antrim 1844 in Taneytown and The Valley Inn in Lutherville before landing at his current post in April 2021.

“When I arrived, I was nervous about The Bygone, wondering, ‘Is it going to be corporate and stuffy?’” he says. “But the Atlas Group was very welcoming.”

Afrookteh, who wears a blue dinner jacket, black slacks, bowtie, and white shirt for his role, arrives at the restaurant’s 29th-floor dining room by about 3:45 p.m. on workdays to prepare for pre-shift meetings and the family meal, when staff members share food before their shifts begin. Dinner service starts at 5 p.m.

“Once I’m finished, I’m home at 11 p.m. or midnight,” he says. “It’s a long day.”

The effort is worth it if his diners enjoyed their meals. “I don’t think I do anything unique,” he says. “I try to allow people to experience the feeling they want in that moment. I want them to feel that No. 1, they’re welcome, and No. 2, that this is a place where they are special.”

Mimi Cooper and her friend Steve Stegner had never eaten at Birroteca, the popular pizza and pasta restaurant in Hampden, so they decided to drop in on a cold night in January. Although their stomachs were growling after seeing Macbeth at The Charles Theatre, they didn’t feel like fussing with the formality of being seated then served at a table in the dining room, which was sparsely occupied. So, to glean the true flavor of the place, they grabbed two stools and bellied up to the bar.

“When we go out, we like to sit at the bar,” Cooper, 79, says. “It’s fun to be close to each other. I think bartenders are sort of fun. They give you quite a bit of attention. It’s cozy.”

After the bartender offers Cooper a taste of a lager she was considering, a courtesy that comes from sitting at the bar, Sam Frank, 31, joins the conversation. He and his fiancée, Grace Jacoby, are sitting catty-corner at the bar sharing a mushroom pizza—the same variety Cooper and Stegner are splitting. The four begin an impromptu chat.

“ALL THE GREAT CULTURES OF HISTORY HAVE HAD A VERY STRONG BAR CULTURE.”

“That is a testament to eating at the bar,” Frank says. “Isn’t it wonderful?” replies Cooper, who dives headfirst into a conversation with her fellow patron. “I love it. I just talked with the couple that preceded you. They were going to Seattle, and we were talking about their trip out West. I love talking to people.”

“You’re not going to have this experience if you’re sitting at a table,” Frank says. “This is why we eat at the bar.”

Ask a person chowing down at a bar why they prefer their perch to a seat in a dining room and you’ll hear a surprising array of answers. My first drink arrives faster. So does my second one, for that matter. The food is served a tad bit quicker. I’m closer to the action. Bartenders make fascinating conversation. It’s a more relaxed setting. As for Cooper and Stegner, they say that when they sit side by side rather than across from one another, they hear each other more clearly.

But after these practical advantages are rattled off, almost always another, more primal idea is expressed: Eating at a bar is a communal activity.

“It’s at the very core of what we do as humans, which is be together,” says Enrique Pallares, owner of The Wine Collective in Hampden. “This has political, social, and cultural implications. All the great cultures of history have had a very strong bar culture. They create community.”

Although eating at a bar has been a practice for decades, its popularity has exploded in the last generation, says Gino Cardinale, co-owner of Tark’s Grill & Bar in Lutherville-Timonium and former owner of the late great City Café in Mt. Vernon.

“I think it goes to how dining has evolved…it’s very social now,” he says. “A couple comes in for dinner, they’re not necessarily looking to be by themselves. They like to strike up conversations with other people and interact with the bar staff. I think it has a lot to do with that conviviality of being among other people. I saw this at City Café over the years. The bar was once a place just for drinking, maybe after-work happy hours. It started to segue into [being] more about actual dining. We sell a lot of bottles of our finer wines at the bar. You never used to see that. It’s really taken off.”

Brad Barnes is director of consulting and industry programs at the Culinary Institute of America. The Baltimore native has worked in the business for decades and is bullish on the future of eating at the bar as the pandemic (hopefully) wanes.

“As we come out of COVID, the blending of social and food opportunities will be more and more powerful,” he says. “So I think it’s worthwhile for people to have [the option to] eat in less formal settings.”

From the fanciest of white-tablecloth bistros to a hyper-casual neighborhood joint, walk into almost any restaurant in town around dinnertime and you’re likely to see people with plates, not just glasses, in front of them at the bar. It’s the perfect way to try a dish or two at a new restaurant without committing to multiple courses. The sense of pressure to order, eat, pay, and promptly leave is decidedly lighter at the bar than in the dining room.

They’re different ecosystems coexisting in the same world.

“If you’re going to go to a decent restaurant, when you have a table, you’re kind of buying that table,” says Jackie Pestka, a chef instructor at Stratford University’s Baltimore campus. “If you’re sitting there and you’ve got three people, and two people order something and one doesn’t, that’s not really a good thing for the restaurant. You can feel self-conscious. You’re almost pushed to get more than you normally would. If you’re sitting at the bar, you can just have an appetizer. I can go to three or four different restaurants in an evening and just grab an app or a small entree and not feel guilty about it.”

Eating at the bar, which has always been a popular option for solo diners, provides a radically different spatial orientation for parties of two or more than sitting around a table. It can create a more casual context for conversation or make periods of silence less awkward. A bartender mixing a colorful cocktail makes for intoxicating theater. A stranger can be invited into a discussion (just don’t talk politics) or you can veg out and watch a game.

T. Cole Newton is vice president of the United States Bartenders’ Guild. The Washington, D.C., native now lives in New Orleans, where he owns two bars. He’s spent countless hours on both sides of bars.

“When you’re at a table, especially if it’s just one or two people, you’re very much alone for the duration of your meal,” he says. “To dine at the bar, not only are you sharing the bartender’s space, but you’re also sharing that space with everyone else at the bar. It’s essentially like being at one really long table. So there’s a lot more opportunity to have a shared experience. If you’re sitting at a table and you talk to somebody at the table next to you, that’s a very strange thing to do culturally. That’s not the expectation, to lean over to the person at the next table and be like, ‘Hey, what are you eating?’ But if you do that to somebody at the bar, that’s part of what the expectation is.”

That’s exactly what happened at Birroteca. A spontaneous interaction between a young couple and strangers at least a generation older left all with a warm, however brief, memory. It never would have happened in a dining room.

“The bar provides an opportunity to connect with people,” Newton says. “Bars are one of the very few places where those types of random human connections are encouraged.”

Baltimore has no shortage of fantastic restaurants where dining at the bar is welcomed, and provides an entirely different experience than eating in the dining room. Here are eight of our many favorites.

→ Birroteca

Hampden

When it opened in 2012, Birroteca became an instant draw for people in Hampden and beyond. Diners flocked there for its terrific pizzas, pastas, and cocktails, but also because of its inviting atmosphere. Full meals are often enjoyed at its large, four-sided bar.

“We have a pretty regular crowd that comes in and doesn’t even entertain the option of sitting at a table,” owner-operator Mike Moran says. “The bartender often forms a connection with the person they are serving.”

Frank and Jacoby always sit at the bar when they eat at Birroteca. “We don’t like sitting across from each other, it feels like an interrogation,” Jacoby says. “I like touching knees and cuddling up, and the conversations you can have with your neighbors and your bartenders are special.”

Birroteca serves pastas, risottos, and inventive appetizers like beet bruschetta, but it is best known for its pizzas. The Duck Duck Goose, with duck confit, fig-onion jam, fontina, Asiago, balsamic, and duck egg is particularly delicious. Eating one at the bar is a breeze.

Pizzas arrive on elevated metal trays with a spatula that makes helping yourself to a slice easy. There are two TVs, one of which usually is tuned to a (muted) movie. Moran is not a sports fan, and when he eats elsewhere at a bar, he appreciates some non-ball-related programming.

On that recent Wednesday night, Frank and Jacoby were sitting with their backs to the screens, engaged in conversation with each other and occasionally their bartender and their neighbors.

“We had our first date at a bar,” Frank said, “and I’m hoping that even when we get old, we will never get away from sitting at the bar.”

→ Charleston

Harbor East

Eating at the bar is not an option that most people consider when they think of a renowned fancy restaurant. This Harbor East legend is certainly that, but dining at its smallish but attractive bar is a popular pick for regulars, says co-owner Tony Foreman.

“It’s a different social engagement for sure,” he says. “You have dedicated staff that’s not out of your eyesight, and that’s comforting to some people. People have strict rules about whether they want to sit in the dining room or not. There are some that never do. There are some that only do with their spouse. Some guys, when they come in with their spouse, they eat at the bar, but when they come in with friends, they sit at a table.”

Regardless of where you sit, Charleston is not cheap. But whereas in the dining room there is a three-course minimum, at the bar dishes are available a la carte. In theory.

IN THE DINING ROOM AT CHARLESTON, THERE IS A
THREE- COURSE MINIMUM. AT THE BAR, DISHES ARE AVAILABLE
A LA CARTE.

“Most people have the full menu at the bar,” Foreman says. “The reality is once you have one dish, it makes you want another.”

Service is just as polished at the bar as in the dining room. After ordering, folded napkins and tableware are placed on the bar and a complimentary snack—pastry puffs with artichoke and Gruyère soup on a recent night—is served.

Foreman often encourages people who haven’t been to the restaurant to sit at the bar and enjoy a glass of Champagne and a plate of cornmeal-fried oysters during their first visit to acclimate themselves to the kitchen’s style. Although we’ve eaten there often, we took his suggestion on a recent Thursday evening.

His advice—like everything at Charleston—was spot on.

→ Costas Inn

Dundalk

The term “crab feast” usually conjures images of people seated at picnic tables, booths, or long communal tables cracking Maryland’s favorite crustacean. But at this Dundalk restaurant, many people prefer to take mallet to shell while sitting at the bar.

“It’s very common here,” says general manager Peter Triantafilos, whose father, Costas, has owned the place for more than 50 years. “We’ve got a lot of regulars that prefer to eat crabs at the bar. It’s like second nature. Eating crabs is always a social thing. We lay the paper down, give them a couple mallets and they’re good to go.”

Costas Triantafilos estimates that about 10 percent of his customers eat crabs at the bar. That may not sound like a lot, but when you consider that 40 to 50 people can comfortably sit around the massive 12-foot-wide, 42-foot- long wooden bar, that adds up to a lot of blue crabs. The restaurant serves crabs from Louisiana and Texas virtually year-round (just to be safe, in the winter call to check availability before you go), and in the summer can steam 11,000 crabs in a week.

“You might have somebody eating a filet mignon and the person next to them is cracking crabs,” Peter says. “Everybody is going with the flow.”

→ Maggie’s Farm

Hamilton

Want proof of the popularity of the small bar in the back of this Hamilton favorite? When it’s full, regulars often choose a table within eyeshot of the eight stools.

“[They] have a couple drinks and maybe an appetizer, and they wait until it’s empty and then they move,” says chef Abdul Saeed, who owns the restaurant with his wife, Dana.

Tristan Gilbert and his girlfriend, Erin, took friends from out of town to Maggie’s Farm on a Friday night in January. They sat at the bar, where they all devoured Saeed’s delectable Korean pig wings. The appeal is multifaceted, he says.

“It’s quicker to get seated. We can see the taps. We’re beer lovers, so going into a place and being able to shop with your eyes before you even see the menu, that’s always appealing. If I have a question about something, the bartender is usually much more readily available than a server would be.”

And Gilbert just likes the vibe. “It’s definitely a cozy bar,” he says. “It feels like you’re hanging in somebody’s living room.”

THE PRIME RIB HAS A MENU WITH ITEMS, INCLUDING A PRIME RIB SANDWICH, ONLY AVAILABLE TO THOSE SITTING ON STOOLS.

→ The Prime Rib

Mt. Vernon 

Don Ervin and his wife, Lachele, arrived at their favorite downtown steakhouse at precisely 5:01, a minute after it opened. As regulars, they know the popularity of eating at its elegant bar, and they were determined to secure their favorite two stools in the corner.

“You meet some interesting people sitting here,” Lachele says. “People that like to eat at the bar are interested in people. Not that you’re looking to meet them, but you’re a little more open to engaging.”

The Prime Rib serves its full menu at the bar, but also has a special menu with items, including a prime rib sandwich and burgers, that are available only to those sitting on stools. Mark “Chavez” Linzey has been bartending there for 15 years.

“We have some people who come in five nights a week and eat at the bar,” he says. “It’s nice having people eat at the bar. They talk to me or watch a game. They talk to the couple next to them. There’s a camaraderie at the bar.”

On one weekday night in January, roughly half the restaurant’s food orders stemmed from the bar, assistant manager Dan Buceti says. The Ervins enjoyed cocktails while they waited for their butterfly shrimp and oysters casino.

“This is our spot,” Lachele says of the restaurant and their regular perches. “It’s a fine dining experience at the bar.”

→ Rec Pier Chop House 

Fells Point 

Anyone who’s traveled for business knows that the road can be a lonely place. Perhaps that’s one reason why many solo diners choose to eat at hotel bars.

“Because it’s a hotel we do get more individuals that come in and eat at the bar,” says Rec Pier Chop House manager Gabriella Taylor.

The upscale steakhouse is located inside the Sagamore Pendry Baltimore hotel in Fells Point. Some get the tasty, pricey steaks that emerge from new executive chef Colin King’s kitchen, but others order lighter.

“We do get a lot of people that won’t eat a full three-course meal,” Taylor says. “They’ll order a couple [antipasti], or a side and an entree.”

There are two TV screens behind the gorgeous Patrick Sutton-designed bar, but often solo diners are in the mood to chat, says bartender Daniel Summers.

“A lot of times they might be interested in something they can do [in the area], or they’re just blowing off steam because they’re finally getting away,” he says. “It doesn’t bother me at all. Personally, when I go out to drink, I want to be able to eat something. I think they go hand in hand. It’s a better experience overall for the guests.”

→ Tark’s Grill & Bar 

Green Spring Station

As it is almost every night, the bar at this wildly popular restaurant in Green Spring Station is bustling. Every seat at the bar is taken, and almost everyone has both a plate of food and a glass of wine in front of them. Conversations, among other things, are flowing. The crowd skews older, and couples who look like they’re dating sit intertwined with those who seem as if they’ve been married for decades.

“Tark’s is a very approachable restaurant still with an upscale nature, so a lot of people do come there for first dates. We hear that a lot,” co-owner Gino Cardinale says. “It’s a little more relaxed. Bar dining is good for that. You can have a nice dinner and a drink and interact, and you still have other people around you, and it doesn’t seem like you’re too formal.

“Bar dining also works for people who have been together for a very long time. They want to come out and have a good time. They’ve been together for 30 years and they’ve already done all the romantic stuff.”

The restaurant is a favorite of WJZ anchor Marty Bass and his wife, Sharon, who live about 10 minutes away and eat at the bar once every week and a half or so.

“It’s a very relaxed way to dine,” he says. “Generally speaking, you meet like-minded people, people who like the casual ambiance of a bar. Bartenders are fascinating people. You always get into great conversations, whether it be about craft cocktails or whatever’s happening that day.”

Although the bar is first come, first served, the restaurant will accept reservations for the high-top tables in the bar area. They’re quite popular, Cardinale says, because they combine elements of both the bar and the dining room.

The restaurant features a large and diverse menu. Among Bass’s favorites are the French dip sandwich and the seafood Cobb salad, which he calls a Cobb salad “on steroids.”

“Back that up with a cold beer and you’re living large,” he says. “Tark’s is beautiful because it’s organic. We don’t really plan [our visits] there. It just happens. And that’s another joy of eating at the bar.”

→ The Wine Collective 

Hampden 

Does any food pair better with wine than a charcuterie board? At The Wine Collective inside Union Collective in Hampden, plates of sliced meats, cheeses, and smoked fish are the top-seller, and many people enjoy eating them at the bar.

“One of our ideas behind the menu is we are inspired by Spanish [restaurants],” says owner Enrique Pallares. “All the food we serve is trying to bring the octopus and the Iberico ham from the white tablecloth to the bar top, to make it a casual activity that doesn’t sacrifice quality.”

The restaurant serves some of the best tinned fish in the city. Many of its foods are imported, while others are hyper-local. The torched bread on the charcuterie plate is made at Cunningham’s Bakery a few miles away.

The actual bar in the cavernous, warehouse-like space is a beauty; it’s copper-topped, and its face is decorated with green tiles imported from Portugal.

“The paradox of the outdoor being a very industrial, somewhat grungy feel, then you come inside and see all this stainless steel and wood and copper, it’s sort of a metaphor for the heart of gold of Baltimore,” Pallares says.

Rules for Eating at the Bar

• Don’t be a space invader: If you’re seated at the bar, the stool next to you isn’t for your purse or jacket. Keep your personal belongings in your dedicated space or look for a handbag hook under the bar.
• Mute your phone: Even if you’re dining by yourself, your phone should always be muted. If you need to make or take a call, step outside.
• Be cordial: You’re in closer quarters with fellow patrons than you are in the dining room, so this is not the time to spout off your political opinions.
• Hands off: Not everything on the bar is yours to touch. If there’s a garnish or fruit bowl, don’t reach into it and help yourself to an olive. If you want something, ask your bartender.
• Gauge your gab: Don’t assume that the person next to you wants to talk. Gauge their desire to gab and go from there.
• Don’t loom: Whenever possible, if someone is eating at the bar, don’t stand behind them and try to order a drink. Respect a diner’s personal space.
• Make room: If you’re in the middle of a row and two people are looking for stools together, slide down one if you can.
• Tip big: Tip your bar staff as generously as you would a server in the dining room.

Nearly 100 dining destinations scattered across the city are perfecting their menus for Baltimore City Winter Restaurant Week, which returns in its 13th year January 12-21. With featured spots offering everything from burgers to bronzini—plus more vegan and vegetarian options than ever before—the annual prix-fixe promotion certainly boasts plenty to choose from.

“I thought originally that it was only for fancy places,” says Annabel Lee Tavern owner Kurt X. Bragunier, who is participating in Restaurant Week for the first time this season. “But I’ve learned over time that little places like mine are good candidates, too. So I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Bragunier’s ode to Edgar Allan Poe on the corner of South Clinton Street closed briefly last summer due to financial struggles. Luckily, two local investors swooped in to save the bar soon after. Now that the tavern is back on its feet, Bragunier says that he’s looking forward to really showing the community what it has to offer.

“We wanted to gear the menu toward people who haven’t been here,” he says, mentioning the restaurant’s “tried and true” dishes including its crab cakes, crispy Brussels sprouts, and duck-fat fries. “I feel really strongly about our food—it’s just all about getting people in here to try it.”

Annabel Lee is among many of the must-try spots that are participating in the 10-day deal, which offers fixed menus priced between $12-25 for a two-course lunch, and $20-35 for a three-course dinner. In an effort to help break down all of the options, we’ve put together list of recommendations for the best spots to visit—whether you’re interested in a luxurious lunch, vegetarian dishes, beer pairings, or dining near a cozy fireplace.

Best bargain: The Prime Rib
With its white linen tablecloths, leather chairs, and famous leopard-print carpet, this Midtown supper club is bursting with old-school charm. And while its entrees could typically set you back anywhere from $26-69, the swanky steakhouse is offering a three-course prix-fixe menu including all of the classics for $35 during Restaurant Week. Choose from a house salad or warm bowl of tomato soup to start, followed by main courses like filet mignon, chopped sirloin, a center-cut pork chop, imperial crab, or the namesake special cut of prime rib. End the evening on a sweet note with traditional crème brûlee, key lime pie, or chocolate mousse. 1101 N. Calvert St., $35, 410-539-1804

Beer pairings: Heavy Seas Alehouse
There are plenty of spots to sip worldly wines, but if you’re more of a beer person, Heavy Seas Alehouse has got you covered. Each of the menu’s three courses will be accompanied by 10-oz. pours of Heavy Seas favorites including the Vienna-style Cutlass lager, Peg Leg imperial stout, and the brand new Americannon pale ale. Fittingly, the menu also features beer-infused specials including beer-battered crab dip, an alehouse burger marinated in Heavy Seas’ Powder Monkey pale ale, Golden Ale mousse, and a Tropicannon bread pudding with beer-infused cream sauce. 1300 Bank St., $35, 410-522-0850

Brunch spot: Minnow
This South Baltimore spot, which has been generating buzz with its smoked cocktails and trendy black-bun burgers, is going all out for Restaurant Week. In addition to the prix-fixe dinner menu (think dishes like crispy tofu, braised beef short ribs, and a chocolate-almond tart), the spot is also offering a three-course brunch. Dig in to dishes like French toast with spiced apple compote, crispy fried chicken on a blue corn waffle, sautéed shrimp omelets, and a Snow White cake with a  vanilla-swiss buttercream. 2 E. Wells St., $22-35, 443-759-6537

Luxurious lunch: Johnny’s
Ditch the sad desk lunch and head to this Roland Park favorite for a three-course meal that starts off with either butternut squash soup with sage brown butter, or a classic Caesar salad. Then choose from options like a beer-braised short rib sandwich, chicken BLT hoagie, or a grilled shrimp kale salad with beets, goat cheese, and Marcona almonds. You can’t go wrong with ginger molasses, mocha chocolate chip, or gluten-free peanut butter cookies for dessert. 4800 Roland Ave., $20-35, 410-773-0777

Newbie: Rye Street Tavern
If you have been meaning to swing by chef Andrew Carmellini’s new tavern next to the Sagamore Spirit Distillery campus in Port Covington, Restaurant Week is an ideal opportunity. Take in the waterfront views while indulging in options like black bean soup with lime crema, cornmeal-crusted catfish with Carolina gold rice, the chef’s famous fried chicken with buttermilk biscuits and whiskey pickles, and banana pudding for dessert. 225 E. Cromwell St., $20-35, 443-662-8000, weekends excluded.

Most romantic: Annabel Lee Tavern
Nothing says amour like the melancholic-romantic style of Edgar Allan Poe. This beloved corner destination devoted to the master of macabre is an ideal date-night spot, with its dim lighting, merlot-colored walls, sculpted ravens, and vintage paintings. Glance over the handwritten menu to find dishes like chicken tortilla soup, a charred romaine and tomato salad, and comfort-food entrees like meatloaf with Applewood-bacon gravy and a mango vegetable curry served over couscous. Plus, you can make it a cheap date, since the prix-fixe menu only costs $28. 601 S. Clinton St., $28, 410-522-2929, weekends excluded.

Vegetarian offerings: Myth & Moonshine
Sip Moonshine cocktails out of a Mason jar while enjoying the farmers’ market-inspired fare at this Canton hangout. Chef Kevin Cauthorne’s three-course dinner menu features many meatless options including French onion soup, a fried goat cheese medallion in a crimson tomato sauce, and white wine-marinated eggplant fried in Cajun flour with a side of sautéed spinach and zucchini. The dessert menu also bolsters the ultra-local focus, featuring Dangerously Delicious Berger cookie pie and cheesecake from Sasscer’s Bakery in Canton. 2300 Boston St., $25-35, 410-777-5502

Best fireplace: Regi’s Bistro
Retreat from the frigid temperatures by snagging a table near the antique marble fireplace at this Federal Hill mainstay. The seasonal specialties on Regi’s Restaurant Week menu only add to the cozy vibe—with lunch options like a Bangkok chicken noodle bowl or steak quesadilla, or dinner dishes including Chilean sea bass, veal osso bucco, New York strip steak, and flourless chocolate cake. 1002 Light St., $15-34, 410-539-7344

A pristine place setting can take any fine dining experience to the next level, and nothing says fancy like a finely folded cloth napkin awaiting you at your seat. Though often considered simply a tool to wipe one’s hands, back in the day, table linens were used to create extravagant works of art.

“The 16th and 17th centuries produced some of the most diverse objects of amusement and decoration,” says author Charlotte Birnbaum in her book The Beauty of the Fold, which details the history of napkin crafting.

Beginning in the early 1600s, napkins depicting everything from mythical creatures to architectural shapes began to grace banquet tables throughout Europe. While folding napkins has become a bit of a lost art, Midtown’s swanky steak house The Prime Rib keeps the tradition alive with its signature “fleur-di-lis” fold, which is reminiscent of the medieval symbol commonly associated with the French monarchy.

“There are definitely newer and more complex folds, but these are old-school,” says server Charles Flathmann, who has worked in the service and hotel industry for more than 20 years. “They’re very elegant.”

For the best results, Flathmann advises starting with a starched, square cloth: “A nice cotton linen is really the best,” he says. “Polyester napkins slide, they tend to be really flimsy and give out easily.”

Here, Flathmann shares some tips to transform your dining room napkins from folded cloth to folded art.

The Fleur-de-lis Fold

Illustrations by Heather Hardison

“Historically, food and music have gone hand in hand,” says Dr. Serap Bastepe-Gray, a faculty research associate at the Peabody Conservatory of The Johns Hopkins University, who studies, in part, how music relates to brain functioning.

“It started as a way to give privacy to patrons in their conversations and to cover up kitchen noise.” In more recent decades, musical backdrops have evolved. “It’s about atmosphere and ambiance,” says John Rutoskey, owner of Station North’s Lost City Diner, where the harmonies of 1950s girl groups serenade patrons from a retro jukebox as they chow down on milkshakes and cheese fries. “Good music improves business, and keeps people happy.”

In honor of the February 15 telecast of the Grammys, we’ve tracked down the hot spots with the best tunes—from a fancy steakhouse to a chic coffee shop.

Catch the tickling ivories of a jazz piano seven nights a week at this elegant Mt. Vernon staple. And on Saturdays, a bass and guitar joins in on Duke Ellington and Count Basie classics. After 50 years, this tradition isn’t going anywhere.

Indie-rock music that’s heavy on the eclectic rhythms of the Talking Heads—featuring Maryland Institute College of Art’s own David Byrne—blends well with the whimsical fare and décor at this new veggie-centric eatery.

At this sleek coffee shop, the new-wave beats of The Cure and Echo & the Bunnymen pair perfectly with poached egg-avocado toast, luscious lattes, and other bean-based drinks.

A communal decision by the staff determines the soundtracks at this wine-and-charcuterie bar. Expect to hear the velvety voice of Neko Case or the rock and soul of Hall & Oates. Whatever’s on strikes the balance between unobtrusive and enjoyable.

Come here to eat cheeseburgers and pick classic titles (The Supremes, anyone?) off a jukebox with bubbling neon lights. But offerings aren’t limited to doo-wop. Artists such as Hank Williams and Whitney Houston also are available for your listening pleasure.