I knew I should have checked President Barack Obama’s schedule before heading to Baltimore with Dani on a recent Friday. We planned to explore the whimsical American Visionary Art Museum and grab lunch afterward. But as we neared the Inner Harbor exit off of I-95, however, it was clear that something was going on—traffic was backed up all the way along the exit ramp. Being a native Baltimorean (or something akin to a native, having grown up 20 miles north of downtown), I bailed out early on Russell Street and avoided the traffic jam—for the time being.
Since we were further west than I’d expected to be, I talked Dani into a quick stop at Lexington Market, home of Faidley’s Seafood, and arguably the world’s best crabcake.
This is a delicacy I made the mistake of introducing to my father-in-law many years ago, and now I dutifully arrange for a four-pack to be shipped to him every holiday season. The one year I forgot he called and we exchanged pleasantries for nearly 15 minutes before he arrived at the true purpose of his call: “Um, I was wondering what happened to the crabcakes?” I haven’t let him down since.
We scored a parking spot right by a market entrance. Ducking inside, I managed to whisper to Dani that Lexington Market is not for the faint of heart, just seconds before a homeless man stopped us to chat. We arrived about an hour before the lunchtime rush, but by the looks of things, the vast space that always smells like something you’d want to be eating was being used by several denizens of the streets to keep their toes warm. I have been to this market, usually on an errand to Faidley’s, dozens of times over the past few decades, and I’ve never had a problem or felt uncomfortable. It’s just one of those spots that merits a watchful eye on the handbag, for example. But if you’re a savvy navigator of crowds surging in and around market stalls, this is one spot not to be missed.
Since we were early, we were treated to service by Mr. Faidley himself. He trussed up our jumbo lump hunks of dinner ($13 apiece and worth every penny) with complementary ice packs, and consented to have his picture taken. From the looks of the awards and trophies lining the walls, I’d guess he’s an old pro at mugging for the camera. I was sorry Dani didn’t get to experience Faidley’s at its busiest, when the place hums with customers queuing up for all kinds of seafood, not just hand-picked crabmeat.
We wandered among the stalls while I pointed out favorite spots for sandwiches and fruit cups, and I bought some chocolate-topped cookies from Bergers, which also has great donuts, cakes and other calorie-dense goodies.
We stashed our wares in the back of the car, confident the ice packs would keep our dinner chilled. I headed back toward the Inner Harbor, only to find myself stuck in a complete traffic standstill. We sat in the car, two lengths from a traffic light, and watched the light change from red to green nearly a half dozen times before anyone moved. I maneuvered a detour and, a few streets over, tried again to get closer to our goal, nearly directly across from the National Aquarium, on Key Highway beyond the Maryland Science Center. Again we were thwarted, this time by a police cruiser whose occupant kindly enlightened us: President Obama was meeting with Republican Congressmen in a hotel by the Harbor and no, ma’am, we were not going to get to our destination any time within the next two hours.
Now, others may have given up at this point and headed home. But Baltimore is a city of many neighborhoods and many charms, and Dani was new to much of it. I figured I could get us over to Fells Point and we could wait out President Obama while eating lunch at one of my favorite spots—Ze Mean Bean Café on Fleet Street.
Our love of beets is not the only thing that binds me and Dani together, but it’s a biggie. I knew she’d appreciate the borscht, and I was feeling pretty confident about the perogis as well.
Ze Mean Bean delivered on my promises, as I knew it would. We shared the borscht, the perogis and a turkey Reuben. On the TV screen above the small bar, President Obama lectured Republicans on bipartisanship.
Since it was clear we weren’t getting to the museum that day, we decided to poke around nearby stores in Fells Point. Our first stop was Another Period in Time, a three-story antique shop crammed with collectibles. Choices range from vintage lunch boxes to shelves loaded with costume jewelry and everything in between.
We headed from there to Broadway where the appealing window display at Party Dress drew us in. This store occupies a large space with a wide variety of women’s clothing downstairs and an open second floor housing jewelry. I managed to find three long sweaters, perfect for pairing with leggings, for less than $100, as a sale was underway. Party Dress struck us as a perfect spot for picking up a fun weekend outfit without breaking the bank.
Fells Point is packed with similar discoveries—a store catering to the S&M crowd, charming coffee shops, eclectic restaurants (Bertha’s Mussels, anyone?), designer dress stores (Cupcake) and lots of converted row houses peddling one man’s junk, another man’s treasure. You never know quite what you’ll find, or whom you’ll end up chatting with while strolling down its charming streets. It was an ideal detour from our original destination, and yet another spot we’ve vowed to return to soon.
