Sidewalk Sitting in March

Baltimore was beautiful yesterday. The sun shone, birds chirped, cyclists whizzed through the streets, windows were opened, and restaurants dusted off their outside dining tables and chairs and placed them on the sidewalk. A brave invitation for Spring to come and stay. When I saw those tables resting outside in the sun, I had to sit at one. So I did. 

Last night, my husband and I walked to Marie Louise Bistro, a chic little restaurant close to our apartment for a drink and outdoor date. Even though it was getting windy and chilly by the time we left, I couldn't resist the novelty of sitting outside at a restaurant, in March. Like an invisible fishing line, the fresh air hooked me and reeled me towards a small iron table with two chairs.  

There are many things I love about eating outside at a city restaurant. First of all, I love hearing the city go by. Horns honking, bits of conversation, always shouting, a runner's heavy breath, dogs' barking, and if you're lucky, someone's unabashed laughter. I love hearing deep bass pulsing out of a Jeep with the top down as it stops at a traffic light. I love hearing friends slap each other on the back as they greet on the street. Sometimes in Baltimore I will hear a ship's horn way down in the Harbor and I wonder where it's sailing to or from. All these city sounds together create a sound that you'll miss hearing when you eat indoors. Yes, it might be quieter inside or there might be a band playing (which I love), but don't forget there's music outside too. 

Another thing I love about eating outside at a city restaurant is the chance you get to study the architecture around you. I walk on North Charles Street almost everyday as I dash out to buy lettuce or grab a newspaper, but I'm usually in too much of a rush to really notice the buildings around me. I notice the buildings around me with flags or flashy signs, the ones that really standout, but it takes more than a quick glance to really notice the subtleties of the architecture in any city.

As I sat outside at Marie Louise, I had the welcome opportunity to observe the buildings around me from a different angle. It's not brain science, but looking at a street from a chair is very different from looking at it while walking by. Sitting outside on North Charles, I noticed a small alleyway across the street I had never seen and a small apartment above a restaurant. I noticed how the buildings around me were largely unrenovated and still in their original state. I appreciated how the huge apartment building across the street had been repurposed into four restaurants all attached to each other. I noticed how tall the buildings in Baltimore are with their blackened chimneys reaching to the sky. I observed the many, many different shades of brick that define and separate each other. All these small architectural details flesh out my picture and understanding of Baltimore and I would have missed them if I had sat inside. 

I enjoyed noticing the architecture of the city, yet more than that, I enjoyed noticing the people of the city. The sidewalk table provides the perfect venue for this. I noticed the purposefully ripped T-shirts of the art school students walking together in packs looking for somewhere inexpensive to eat. I observed the business executive as he got out his car to buy wine from the shop next to us. He was in and out of the shop in a few minutes, no doubt relieved that his day at the office was over so he could head back to his family. I smiled at the mother helping three girls in tutus and ballet shoes cram into her small car, so reminiscent of my childhood dance classes. I laughed as a group of girlfriends sat down at the table next to us exclaiming "It is such a gorgeous day!!" with dizzy excitement, exactly as I had a few minutes earlier. So many beautiful human moments out in the open, free to be appreciated from the sidewalk table.  

Sitting outside on this March day was an incredible gift. Too often responsibilities make it impossible to be outside, or better yet, to pause outside. Pausing outside. By sitting at a sidewalk table, I gave myself the chance to pause outside and notice the life around me without distraction. Exhilaration swirled through the streets as Baltimorians ventured outside without their coats and boots. As the warm spring air brushed my face and I sipped my drink, I felt I was truly part of the city. 

Sidewalk sitting? Yes please! I'll happily give you the corner booth. 

Sure, I'll Take A Cinnamon Roll!

There are a lot of important things you have to do when you move to a new city, but none are as necessary as finding a good breakfast joint. Now, I love going to trendy bistros for dinner and drinks, but for breakfast I want something simple. I will always bypass a gourmet breakfast menu for the tried and true breakfast basics. Eggs, sausage, hash browns, toast (with jam), and a bottomless cup of coffee for under $10. This is what I crave on a lazy Saturday morning. 


Since moving to Baltimore, my perfect brunch joint has regretfully eluded me. One place we tried was too fancy, another place had horrible service. Last Saturday however, I told myself "enough is enough." Time to find somewhere great to go for breakfast in Baltimore. Armed with Yelp and Urbanspoon, I began swimming through brunch reviews of restaurants in the city. The name Blue Moon Cafe popped up again and again and I quickly began to hope that this small cafe in Fell's Point might be the key to my breakfast quest. Onward!



A quick ride on the Circulator plus a winding walk through the harbor got us to the door of the Blue Moon Cafe. A skinny brick building painted with a blue starry sky, Blue Moon Cafe had just the right amount of quirky charm for a breakfast joint. The mass of Baltimorians huddled outside in the wind seemed a bit daunting, but I figured a line was better than no line. A hustling host darted in and out of the cafe letting people know their tables were ready. When he finally paused to add our names to his two-page list, he told us it would be a two-hour wait. Two hours? Was breakfast worth two hours of a precious Saturday morning? Yet, I was so curious to try this food that had people lined up on the street, that we had to wait it out. The host told us to feel free to walk around Fell's Point while we waited, and to take our time.

Luckily, Fell's Point is a perfect place to kill two hours, especially when it's sunny and bright out. We took our time exploring an art gallery, a bike shop, a few side streets, and people-watched to our hearts' content. When I thought I couldn't get any hungrier, we walked back to Blue Moon Cafe to see if our table was ready. It wasn't. And it still wasn't ready until forty-minutes later. When the host called our names we ran to the door high-fiving each other. Yes! We finally got in the door! 


When we entered Blue Moon, I realized why the wait had been so long. The place is tiny. The cafe has maybe only ten tables and a breakfast bar with four seats. The place was packed when we entered, and from the amazing looking food stacked on people's plates, I understood why people  were willing to wait so long for a table. 




Our seats were at the breakfast bar and we had to squeeze to fit in beside another other couple seated there. Maybe not the best place for a private conversation, but our seats did give us the perfect vantage point to see how the cafe worked. From our seats we could see a sliver of the kitchen where a chef cracked eggs by the dozen. I saw servers filling coffee cups and mixing chocolate milk behind the bar. The phone rang continuously and was always answered by a laughing server. Even though the cafe was extremely busy, the servers had a great time working. They were cheery and polite and served the food with tons of fun. Eighties songs blasted on the radio and the servers sang and danced to them while they quickly filled orders. No apparent stress in sight! 


As we surveyed the the vast breakfast menu of omelettes, french toast, pancakes etc., our waitress listed off the daily specials. Breakfast quesadillas, two fried eggs with hash browns in-between, and super cinnamon rolls. When I saw our waitress heat up a cinnamon roll for another customer, I could hardly believe how huge it was! Three inches tall and six inches wide, this cinnamon roll was big enough for four people to eat.Gooey layers of homemade roll dripping with brown sugar and cinnamon: I started going into a sugar coma just looking at it. I knew I'd definitely regret eating one of these cinnamon rolls, but I couldn't resist. When our waitress brought out ours, it was warm and bursting with spicy cinnamon. So many restaurants boast of having "homemade" baked goods that always disappoint. These cinnamon rolls far surpassed any homemade cinnamon rolls I've ever had. So moist, and SO sugary. Just like that, without tasting anything else, I fell completely in love with Blue Moon Cafe. 


The omelette's we ordered were magnificent as well. Perfectly cooked and perfectly seasoned full of vegetables,cheese,sausage, and eggs. The accompanying pile of hash browns were crispy and light and so were the homemade biscuits which we barely touched because we were so full. Our mouths filled with flavor as we ate and sipped our coffees. Each bite was delightful and so was the cheery atmosphere in the cafe. The positive attitudes of the servers bounced onto us and made us feel happy to support this small cafe. 


I left Blue Moon Cafe fulfilled. My stomach was filled with delicious food, and my quest for finding an awesome breakfast spot in Baltimore was finished. Yes, the wait was way too long, but the feel-good environment and the incredible food made up for it. 


Especially that crazy good cinnamon roll. 

Wit & Wisdom: A Great Name, A Great Establishment

It is a freezing and windy Saturday night. My husband and I decide to take a leap of faith by exploring a bar recommendation from the free paper. Looking extremely stylish in our huge puffer coats, we jump on the Circulator and head out to Harbor East Baltimore. The Circulator deposits us almost at the door of the impressive Four Seasons Hotel, which is where the bar is located. As we walk past scurrying valets and European sports cars waiting in the driveway, I wonder if we have made a grave mistake. Is this going to be way too sophisticated for us? Are we really allowed to come here? Only one way to find out! We push through the gleaming revolving door and enter the hotel.

To the left of the grand and beautiful lobby of the Four Seasons, we spy the sign for Wit & Wisdom and proceed to enter. Wit & Wisdom is split between a bar on the left side, and a restaurant on the right side. Though the two sides are separate, they flow into each other with a graceful ease and the whole space feels open and effortless. No doubt this "effortlessness" is the result of master designers and architects. Low, rustic looking tables and elegant couches create mini lounge areas where people chat and sip their cocktails. Large picture windows frame a beautiful view of the Baltimore Harbor and the hotel's courtyard. I can only imagine how green and lush it will look in the summer. A hundred or more white lamps illuminate Wit & Wisdom and fill it with a warm, soft glow. These lamps rest on skinny wooden shelves and create the illusion of magical floating lights. Potted echeveria (a large green succulent) and tall spring branches grace the tables and corners and bring a fresh and natural element into the space. In a nutshell, the room is a perfectly balanced mix of natural and industrial elements which make it feel modern and inviting.   

The bar itself is the anchor of the room : an impressive piece of black walnut two-inches thick, smooth on the top and rough cut on the bottom. Solid and elegant, I can't help but to think of this wood's story. Who grew it? Who sanded it? How many hands touched it in the process? Maybe a lumberjack hauled it through the snow? Maybe someone said "Yes!" over it? If only this wood could talk. As we lean our elbows onto this piece of wood to read the cocktail list, we become another part of its saga. 

This long oval shaped bar at Wit & Wisdom seats about sixteen people on each side leaving enough room in the center for five bartenders. These five bartenders are truly masters of their art. I watch them mix, stir, shake, measure, and pour with fluidity and surety. They know what they are doing, and do it well. They know the cocktail recipes by heart and are not afraid to improvise. One bartender leans over to ours as she is mixing a drink and suggests that she add a sprig of fresh sage. "I tried it yesterday" he says. "It is much gooood" he adds. As we read the menu and chat with our bartender, we learn that all the syrups, infusions, and juices at Wit & Wisdom are made on the premises in small batches by the bartenders. We are hooked. 

Our bartender tells us that using only fresh ingredients is key for creating a perfect cocktail.We try a unique one called Pickett's Fence made with ingredients found within a 100 mile radius of the bar. It is a mixture of rye whiskey, local honey, a sliver of granny smith apple, bay leaf infused vodka, Dogfish Head 90 minute IPA, and a bay leaf garnish. As we watch our bartender prepare it, she explains to us the exact order of how to mix the ingredients. She says it is especially important to add the IPA last so it doesn't lose its carbonation. Before she adds the bay leaf garnish, she lights the edges of the leaf on fire to release its full flavor. When we take a sip, Pickett's Fence doesn't disappoint. Seeing and understanding each ingredient added into our drink makes us taste each flavor and really savor it. We notice many more characteristics of the drink than we would have had we not witnessed its creation. As we sip, another bartender comes over and tells us that he concocted the recipe for Pickett's Fence for a contest, and won. He tells us even more about the ingredients and why he loves it. His enthusiasm for the drink spills onto us, and soon we love it too. 

As we head home, I reflect on why Wit & Wisdom appeals to me so much. I realize it attracts me because going there is such a refreshing experience. It is refreshing to find out that an exclusive hotel has a completely accessible bar/restaurant which allows the average person to experience beautiful design and excellent service. I loved spending a perfect long evening there chatting, sipping, and just soaking up the atmosphere with my husband. I know that we will definitely adventure here again, and I have a feeling that when we do, we will be bringing some friends along. 

Let's Circulate!

A free bus you say? Yep, it's true. Baltimore has a free city bus called the Charm City Circulator and it is fantastic! 


Since I have moved to Baltimore, I have used the Circulator many times to access parts of the city that are too far to walk to. With stops close to my apartment, it is extremely easy to jump on and off the Circulator when I want to go to the Inner Harbor or Fell's Point and I don't feel like fighting for a parking space. Though the bus timetable says it stops only every fifteen minutes, I have never waited more than seven to get on and the wait is usually even less than that. The bus drivers are friendly, especially if you say hi and thank you to them, and will always wait for you if they see you running up the street trying to catch a ride. 


Taking the Circulator to circulate Baltimore is a relaxing thing. It is usually easy to find a seat on the bus and the interior is brightly lit,clean, and monitored with security cameras. The bus drivers don't tolerate anyone sleeping on the bus and are quick to scold the offender with a disapproving shout. The fact that the Circulator is entirely free makes taking it for a ride a no-brainer. I love the fact that I don't have to scramble for exact change whenever I want a ride and that I don't have to include the cost of the bus in my Friday night budget. 

Sponsoring a free city bus is a brilliant move on Baltimore's part. Having a free bus encourages people to explore different areas of the city and makes the city accessible to everyone. It promotes restaurants that are farther away and keeps foot traffic thriving. The free Circulator makes it easy for people to take public transportation and cuts down on car traffic and drunk driving, especially on the weekends. 


I know the Circulator isn't really free (we are paying for it in Baltimore taxes) but it still feels like it is when I take it for a ride. In my mind, the Circulator feels like a nice "Thank You" gift from Baltimore to its citizens for living here and for keeping the city in business. I certainly appreciate the gift of a free ride and I know many others do too. I hope that other cities can adopt this great idea and that they do it soon! 

Pizza Extraordinaire: A Restaurant Review

Come on, grab your coat. No, not that one, it's too thin. Yeah, your black pea coat with the high collar is perfect, more sophisticated. Grab your grey scarf too. Fold it in half and loop it through around your neck. No, that's too tight. You look like you are choking. Loosen it up a bit. Aww, there you go. Perfect. Do you have the keys? ID? Wine? Alright, come on! Lucky, lucky you my friend is going on a date with me. To Iggies. Let the night begin!

Another Friday night in Baltimore and it's time to explore another promising restaurant. This time Iggies Pizza is the destination and it is conveniently located right around the corner on Calvert Street. Understated and clean,the storefront of Iggies tells me that this is a place where good food, and not fancy frills, is a priority.Large picture windows let me gaze directly in at laughing and relaxed eaters gathered around long tables enjoying wine, pizza, and each other's company. Illuminated with small lights hanging from the ceiling, Iggies is like a glowing pot of gold on the dark street. I am more than willing to enter inside. 

As I enter Iggies, yeasty air embraces me in a warm hug. I feel as if I am entering into a best friend's kitchen where I feel completely at ease. The maitre d' greets us with a smile and asks how many people are in our party. Pointing at two empty seats wedged in the middle of a long table, she tells us we can sit there and takes our wine for a placeholder. Seeing our somewhat apprehensive faces, she also asks if we have been here before. When we say no, she says "welcome!" and explains the "rules" to us. Iggies isn't an ordinary restaurant. They do seat you and give you plates, but from there on, it is self-serve. Wine glasses, water glasses, silverware, napkins, and corkscrews sit on a small sideboard in the heart of Iggies, and we grab what we need. Easy. Choosing which intriguing pizza to order from the chalk-written menu on the wall is not quite as easy. Orange squash, silky pears,creamy mozzarella, salty pancetta, tangy olives: the extensive list of ingredients delightfully goes on an on. So many possible tastes to savor. We deliberate, and finally decide to go half and half on our pizza with one side the Alioe, and on the other the Diovolo.  

After placing our order at the small counter, we make our way over to our seats. Fellow guests sit directly next to us family style at the long wooden table and we squish ourselves into our chairs carefully trying not to bump our neighbors. To our left sit a young man and his mother who have already finished eating but are still sipping their wine and enjoying a quiet conversation. To our right sits a couple who is chatting quickly and loudly and perhaps a bit nervously. A first or second date? They start holding hands across the table. I think it's a second. An Asian group of students at the far right-end of the table asks the maitre d' to take a photograph of them eating cheese, and saying "cheese." So cheesy, I love it. 

 The close quarters at the table might be too close for some diners, but I enjoy the camaraderie of the table. I love catching quick glimpses into the lives of those sitting next to me as I hear bits of their conversation. Something about a mean girl at work. Something about an art show. Can you pass me the hot peppers? I relish the fact that even though I am sitting amongst complete strangers who can hear everything I'm saying, I feel entirely uninhibited to say whatever I want. I know my conversation isn't really private, but it feels like it is because of the surrounding noise. I know that no one is really listening to me because they are focused on their own conversation. If they do tune into mine, they will probably just laugh and enjoy it, just as I enjoy hearing theirs, and continue on.  

When the chef calls our order, we are ready to eat. The pizza that waits at the counter for us is a beautifully crafted masterpiece. On one side, bubbling mozzarella and parmigiano lay over a bright red tomato sauce finely supported by a thin pita-like crust. Sizzling spicy sausage and fiery hot peppers add a kick and a punch, and another kick. On the other side lies a brilliantly green coating of pesto dotted with vine-ripened tomato, steamy garlic spinach, and buttery goat cheese. Each piece that enters our mouth is an applauding testament to the duo of fresh ingredients and crispy crust. We eat every last chewy cheesy crumb of this pizza, and long after it was gone, savor its taste on our tongues.

The delicious food at Iggies does more than satisfy my stomach: it satisfies my soul. I am reminded to value the small moments of life as I eat my pizza. The apparent appreciation for good food, good friends, and good times that permeates the air at Iggies is why I will be back and why I heartily say, 

"Bravo Iggies! You sure got a good thing right!" 

Friday in Fell's

The taxicab. It's amazing how this unique combination of sticky leather seats, smudged windows, lingering cigarette smoke, and static radio is the perfect ticket to a night of adventure in a new city. Where else but in a taxicab can you get a real tour of a city that won't bore you to death and will cost you only ten dollars cash plus a tip? That's right my friends, nowhere else.

Now Baltimore isn't the largest city, but it does have its fair share of taxis roaming the streets, especially on a Friday night. A few weeks ago, my husband and I decided to snag one with a group of friends and headed down to Fell's Point. For those of you who don't live in Baltimore, or have just moved to Baltimore, Fell's Point is seriously charming. Visiting Fell's Point feels like visiting one of those historic preserved towns like Williamsburg or Pioneer Village except that there is no yellow caution tape or souvenir stands. A little history. Fell's Point was founded in 1763 and officially became Maryland's first National Historic District in 1969. So it's super old, and super cool. Most of the buildings in Fell's are made of red brick and are super narrow. The streets are tight and cobbled and finding a parking spot is equal to winning the lottery. If you visit Fell's, expect to park at least one or two blocks from you destination, or be smart and take a taxi.


My favorite thing about Fell's is that it is so close to the water. It is a beautiful thing to smell the harbor as soon as you get out of your car in Fell's. Now one of the trendiest places to live in Baltimore, someone told me that Fell's Point used to be one of the worst places to live because of the strong fish smell coming off of the water. Because of the fish and dirty water stench, real estate used to be cheaper in Fell's and this is why many poorer immigrants ended up living there. Today, the fish smell has left(lucky for us), but the sturdy row homes and all their history remains.

As our taxicab excursion showed us, Fell's Point is loaded, and I do mean fully loaded, with bars, bistros, restaurants, and boutiques. What I call the "main square" of Fell's is located on South Broadway. The restaurants and bars on South Broadway nest together like eggs in a crate with barely any space between. Until further excursions allow, Max's Taphouse is one of my new favorite places in Fells. This corner bar is definitely a favorite of many Baltimorians because it was packed when we pushed in through the old wood doors. Crammed with exhilarated Friday night partyyers, we finally  made our way to the taps. I have never seen so many beer taps in one place. Max's boasts having 140 rotating drafts, which makes for some tough decision making. After some nail biting and chin scratching we finally choose a perfect brew and took it to the upstairs lounge which was a bit less crowded. 


The atmosphere at Max's is laid-back, crowded, medium-loud, and totally fun. Small four pane windows overlooking South Broadway let the city air and occasional siren light into Max's and grow the Friday night excitement. I watch randoms meet and bump into each other right and left and chat up the night. With such good brews and good company it is easy to have a great night at Max's. Needless to say with 140 rotating drafts to choose from, we will definitely be back, soon.


By the time we leave Fell's Point on this Friday night, the streets are even more crowded than when we came. Taxicabs troll every alleyway and pick up fares at every curb. We dart into a steamy little pizza place and grab a cheesy slice. So good. The sidewalk is bursting and it feels like everyone in Baltimore is with us in Fell's. We find a taxi driver who says he doesn't mind if we eat in his cab, and head home. 


Adieu Fell's Point, until next weekend. 

A New Beginning

 Baltimore, Smaltismore, what to make of you? 

 First night in the city, I crawl into bed (a super small mattress plopped on the floor) and listen to the shrill sound of sirens wailing out the window. An ambulance light glares through our makeshift curtains of hammocks and towels and lights up our room with a red glow. Someone shouts in the street. My husband and I look at each other and shake our heads. Welcome to the Charm City?Yet there's no turning back now, we are here to stay. Time to embrace our future. We open up a bottle of wine and toast the city with styrofoam cups.  

 The morning paints a prettier picture. Sunlight streams into our  bedroom. No sirens yet, only a few birds that can't wait to be heard. I usually love staying in bed for as long as I can, but this morning, my desire for coffee is too great. I force myself to emerge from a mountain of blankets and throw on my warmest clothes. Time to find a a local coffee shop! Hmm, where to go? I decide to walk north and pass a few dogs pulling their still yawning owners along. I spy a few people drinking coffee out of paper cups that aren't from Starbucks and I know a delicious coffee shop is just around the corner, somewhere, if only I can find it.

 This early morning coffee run in Baltimore is the first of many I can already tell. There is something truly magical about an early city morning. I have always felt this magic whenever I have ventured out into the city for school or work or travel. I think the magic steams off of a mostly empty sidewalk stretching out in front of you and all the places it can take you to. The magic comes with the excitement of wondering who you are going to meet today and what conversation you will have that could change your view from horizontal to vertical. 

 As I walk past strangers on my coffee expedition, I wonder where they are going and what they are thinking about. Even though I don't talk to these strangers, we do acknowledge each other as we pass by sometimes with a nod, smile, or step to the side.Inside my head I wish them well on their journey today.I love the simple fact that no matter what the differences are between myself and these strangers, we are all experiencing the same beautiful city morning together.

 Ta da! I finally find an awesome coffee shop which is clean and modern and filled with happy patrons sipping their coffees, reading the paper, and chatting and laughing. I pick up two steaming cups of java and after fixing them with cream, head out the door. After one sip, I am sold. I cannot wait to come back here and settle in with a paper myself one future morning. As I walk home, a guy on the street shouts "You must REALLY love coffee" at me as I pass by him holding an extra-large coffee in each hand. I laugh, and reply "Yes, I do" and we both laugh again. I walk the final blocks back to the apartment and ring our doorbell so my husband can let me in. Waiting on the front stoop I think "yes." Yes, I am beginning to like Baltimore, and yes, this is just the beginning.