Off the Map: Is That Chocolate or Blueberry?

Baltimore Bomb Pie -- Dangerously Delicious Pies, Baltimore, MD
Dangerously Delicious Pies

Vodka spends most of her time in Dangerously Delicious Pies simultaneously biting her tongue and curling her toes.  Attempting to suppress the urge to complain about the inefficient service and tap her feet in displeasure, she is trying with everything she has to control herself.

Hand Over the Pie FASTER and Nobody Gets Hurt

Only three people stand between Vodka and Bloody Mary's arrival at the pie counter, but the two workers seem hellbent on taking a solid hour to move the line along.  In their defense, they fit the dismissive attitude of the store itself, which looks like it was thrown together in an afternoon by wannabe rock stars clutching chalk and no design aesthetic.

Think It's Time to Clean Your Blackboards...

When we reach the front of the line many moons later, Vodka asks for one slice of the Baltimore bomb pie, as chosen by Duff Goldman on the GUILTY PLEASURES episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.  The girl waiting on us looks around the pie shelves lackadaisically for a while, gives a cryptic "Hmmm...," and then retreats to the back counter to throw a slice into a to-go container.

And this behavior makes Vodka feel none-too confident about the fact that we have, in fact, procured the right pie.

You Know, A Little Signage Never Hurt Anybody....

Though our intention is to eat the pie later in the night at Bloody Mary's house, Vodka refuses to leave before taking a gander (read: checking the accuracy) of the slice itself.  Opening the container, we are both convinced (because we are idiots) that we have been handed a blueberry pie slice instead of a Baltimore bomb slice.

Is That Fruit or Dessert?!

In truth, Bloody Mary is not wholly convinced that the dark substance on the pie is composed of blueberries and not berger cookies, but Vodka is taking no chances.  Trying to decide the least confrontational way she can confirm the pie's flavor, she settles on asking the employee, "Can you tell us what's in this kind of pie?"

"Berger cookies and vanilla custard," the girl answers, and finally, Vodka's Type-A control freak goes back into its shell for a moment.

Annnnnd the Moment Has Passed

Many hours later, when we finally get around to tasting the pie while stationed on Bloody Mary's couch watching The Wonder Years (a scene out of "Winners R Us" if there ever were one), we find it rather delectable.  Contrary to our earlier color blindness, the berger cookies (vanilla wafers covered with chocolate fudge; they are apparently a thing in Baltimore) have melded into the perfect goopy complement to the sweet, thick vanilla custard.  The crust itself is almost puff pastry-like in texture -- thin and airy and far from overbearing.

Note: Couch Lighting Makes Pies Look Decidedly Less Appetizing

The pie slice is so good, in fact, that despite the fact that we are full-on suffering from overeating, we finish the whole thing on the spot, rather than saving most of it for our morning snack as we had planned.  If anything, we think the pie could have used even more berger cookies, as the flavor of the custard itself is slightly lacking without them.

This Final Piece, Too, Was Consumed Within Five Minutes of This Picture Being Snapped

In any case, Vodka and Bloody Mary have managed to accomplish all nine of Baltimore's Best Thing I Ever Ate dishes in under twelve hours, and for that, they deserve a prize.  And/or a membership to Weight Watchers.

Dangerously Delicious Pie's Baltimore Bomb Pie: 4 stars

Off the Map: We're Just Here for the Snails

Burgundy Snails -- Charleston, Baltimore, MD
Charleston

The number of times Vodka has said some variation of "We just want the snails" in regards to Charleston restaurant's menu is more than anyone should say in a lifetime.

No, But Really, Guys -- WE'RE JUST HERE FOR THE SNAILS

The Charleston, according to Bloody Mary, is the fanciest restaurant in Baltimore, and the one that, she is convinced, we will be unable to infiltrate, at least if our sole goal is to eat only mollusks.  But Vodka does not give up on such things easily, so she has had no less than three phone calls over the past month with the (highly congenial) Charleston employees, and thus uttered the phrase, "We really only want to eat the snails" innumerable times.

Ways to Get Yourself Pegged As a Weirdo: Only Talk About Snails

Not to be outdone, when we arrive at Charleston after our oh-so-heartening crab cake "dinner" at Pierpoint Restaurant, Vodka informs the hostess almost immediately, "We're just here for the snails."  By this point, we are fairly certain that they have a page's worth of notes spelling out "These people are lunatics" next to our reservation, so Vodka figures that no further explanation will be necessary.

In the Meantime, If You'll Excuse Us, We Need to Start Photographing Bread Sticks

As we had wished, we meander into the lounge area and take seats at the bar, preparing ourselves for snail and cocktail consumption.  Unfortunately, it seems that no one has informed the bartender that he is dealing with the two most notorious whack-jobs in attendance tonight, as he is slow on the draw about just about everything: menus, drinks, and most importantly, snails.

It Is Hard to Out-Rank 'Cocktails' on Our List of Importance, But the Snails Have Done It

Eventually, we receive our martinis (which are good if unmemorable, being that Vodka doesn't have a clue as to what we actually ordered), and Bloody Mary makes a big show of pouring half of hers onto her dress.  It appears that our 12-hours of non-stop food consumption are starting to catch up to her, as she murmurs, "I just spilled my drink all over me.  It's as if I just poured it directly onto my lap" while dabbing herself with a napkin.

This Happenstance, Needless to Say, Makes Vodka Guffaw with Laughter

By this point, Vodka has asked the bartender for the snails not once but twice, and we have yet to even ascertain whether he has placed the order in the computer.  When she manages to flag him down yet again, Vodka inquires about our missing shelled creatures.

"Do you want them here or at your table?" the bartender asks, clearly not understanding that "We would like to order the snails" is not just our way of making conversation.

Listen, Buddy, I Don't Know What You Talk About in Baltimore, but 'Snails' Is Not a Topic of Small Talk in NYC

In response, Vodka merely taps the top of the bar, which causes Bloody Mary to pause in her martini-mop up to laugh uncontrollably.  "You just tapped the bar instead of answering him, Pretentious."  Vodka is unphased, as the bartender has convinced her that he is only capable of understanding visual cues. 

"And I think you're supposed to say, 'I'd like to order the escargot,'" Bloody Mary, suddenly the expert on etiquette, continues.

"The menu blatantly says 'snails,'" Vodka defends her vocabulary.  Indeed, Charleston describes Duff Goldman's Best Thing I Ever Ate APPETIZER as "Burgundy Snails with butter-poached garlic and bacon puff pastry tart."

Eventually, after our frenemy, the bartender, takes away Bloody Mary's cocktail EVEN BEFORE SHE FINISHES IT (unacceptable, mister), the snails arrive.  The first thing we notice is that the dish used to hold the snail-filled puff pastry is extremely inconvenient for eating.  Square-shaped with raised corners, we have to hold our forks at excessively bizarre angles in order to cut and then spoon the concoction into our mouths.

(In Nerd Alert news, Bloody Mary actually describes this problem as "Ergonomically, it's a poor dish choice").

Though This Is the Same Girl Who Would Use the Word 'Fat' to Describe This Pastry

When we manage to scoop in the first bites, we find a soft and buttery brioche cradling a small pile of snails.  The puff pastry resides in a pool of sauce, while a heaping amount of gravy is laden over the snails themselves.  As Vodka's first "escargot" (speaking of pretentious) experience, she finds the snails enjoyable enough.  They are thankfully not slimy, and their texture is almost the same as any well-cooked shrimp or lobster.

By this point, we are finally starting to feel full, so the snails are feeling less appealing than they might have otherwise (though considering they're still snails, we're not convinced of this fact).  In any case, we are certain that we have successfully branded ourselves as the Great Snail-Obsessed Weirdos of Baltimore in the city's most esteemed restaurant, and for that, we can't help but feel a bit of proud pretension.

Charleston's Burgundy Snails: 4 stars

Off the Map: The Judge Judy of the Culinary World

Crab Cakes -- Pierpoint Restaurant, Baltimore, MD
Pierpoint Restaurant

Dear Chefs of the World,

If you have a nasty/cranky/generally unlikable demeanor, STAY IN THE KITCHEN and leave the front of the house to someone with a better affect.

In Other Words, If You're a CRABBY CAKE, Stay Away

Nancy Longo at Baltimore's Pierpoint Restaurant could benefit from taking this advice.


It is worthy to note that prior to entering Pierpoint, Vodka, quite literally. fell out of a pick-up truck.  In fact, if Bloody Mary had not been standing is just the right position for Vodka to grab onto as she plunged out of the back seat, Ginger may have needed to find a new dining partner.  It is in this state of hyped-up giggles that we enter Pierpoint, and a fellow customer at the bar looks at us quizzically.

"I'm having a bad night," Vodka explains.

And If Nancy Longo Has Her Way, It's About To Get Worse

"Already?!" he asks.  We look at the time, certain that it is nearly midnight -- it's 6:30pm.  (And considering Vodka's been up since 4:00am, it's no wonder she's started falling out of pick-up trucks).

Clearly She Needs Her Strength. Someone Hand This Girl a Carb

We take two stools at the bar next to what seems to be Pierpoint's "technology support center," based on the number of laptops that are inexplicably taking up bar seats (way to put the customers first, Pierpoint).

Seriously Now - What Is This About?! They're Taking Up Valuable Bar Real Estate

When the bartender comes to take our drink orders, we ask what kinds of flavored vodka they have.  She answers "none."

Excuse me, lady, but the seven bottles of stoli behind you would indicate otherwise.

When Bloody Mary points out the stoli bottles, the bartender backtracks on her initial statement (though still doesn't seem to realize that these stoli bottles and "flavored vodka" are one and the same).

Here's Another Vocabulary Lesson, Lady: This Is Bread

We each ask for a wild cherry vodka soda, and Vodka heads to the bathroom in the back of the restaurant.  On the way there, she gets in the way of at least three Pierpoint employees, who all seem to be in various states of "frazzlement."  Bloody Mary confirms this phenomenon of employee run-ins when she makes her own trip to the restroom, and we are momentarily pleased that we have seats by the door (aka close to the exit should a problem break out in this ill-arranged firetrap).

Somebody Grab Us a Crab Cake on the Way Out

When Vodka returns from the bathroom, Bloody Mary is looking at her out of the corner of her eye, a look that wordlessly says, "We have a problem."

"She can't get it open," she whispers under her breath.

"What?"

"The bartender can't get the vodka bottle open."  Vodka looks up to find a rotating cast of employees and then customers trying to pry open the stubborn bottle, all of whom are unsuccessful.  When we agree to drink another flavor (for which -- call her crazy -- Vodka thinks we should have been given a discount), this compromise does not produce a much better result, as the bartender fills the glass essentially to the top with cranberry vodka, and adds merely a splash of (not even carbonated) soda.

The whole thing is pretty much a horror show.

And Wait til You Hear How Much These Debacles Cost. Just You Wait, Henry Higgins

Speaking of horror show, while Vodka was in the bathroom, she could hear that bartender telling none other than Nancy Longo herself that we want to sit at the bar even though we have a reservation, and "Is that okay?"  Considering that every table in the restaurant is filled, Vodka is incapable of rationalizing why the bartender feels the need to run this matter by Ms. Longo.  That is, until ten minutes later, when we get a first row seat to the workings of Crabbypants Longo.

Get It - CRABBYpants? So Clever

While back at the bar sipping our cranberry vodka-waters, another party arrives and tries to take up residence at the (empty) bar (while all of the tables in the restaurant, keep in mind, are still full).  Crabbypants Longo, who has escaped from the kitchen once again, is giving them all sorts of grief over the scenario, though in a passive-aggressive, eye-rolling, pouting, and mumbling-under-her-breath fashion that no one can understand.  Truth be told, we are loving this encounter, mostly because we enjoy drama that does not involve us, but still, the behavior is unacceptable.  If we were the new customers (and were we not on this OCD-like mission), we would have walked out immediately upon encountering the highly disagreeable Crabbypants Longo, "world-renowned crab cakes" or not.  As it stands, we're less than pleased with our own experience, and we haven't even received our food yet.

Get Back in the Kitchen and Plate Your Dishes More Symmetrically, Crabbypants

Eventually, our Best Thing I Ever Ate choice arrives: the crab cakes which Duff Goldman had chosen on the FOR BRUNCH episode.  We have decided to order one regular and one smoked crab cake, which come with brussels sprout slaw, a corn cake, matchstick potatoes, and caper cornichon tartar.

Plate o' Beige

The crab cakes themselves are hearty and thick, the meat very fresh with just the slightest hint of a fried coating.  Taking tastes of each, Vodka prefers the regular cake and Bloody Mary the smoked one (though to be honest, Vodka really just likes the tartar sauce.  It is, after all, a condiment).

We'll Take a Whole Plate of Tartar Sauce Next Time, Thanks

The potatoes and brussels sprouts are both fine (though the latter seems a bit slimy), but it is obvious that the crab cakes themselves are supposed to be the stars here.

As an Aside, Please Note How Much of the Vodka "Soda" Has Been Consumed By This Point....

In fact, Bloody Mary enjoys the crab cakes much more than Vodka does (as Vodka believes that a bit more frying and breading never hurt anything).  As the Baltimore resident, Bloody Mary says she would have come back for the crabby delicacies, but certainly not with the threat of the crabby chef's presence hanging over her head. 

And then, there is the matter of our bill.

Now, for goodness sake, we have been known to throw down a lot more cash willingly for phenomenal food and beverages.  But our grand total for two wrong-flavor vodka-waters and crab cakes?  $49.  Before tip.  Each of our "cranberry waters" is $10, and the crab cakes are $29.  This pricing is, in a word, outrageous.  (Oh, and PS Pierpoint charged Bloody Mary's credit card TWICE, definitively nailing shut their reputation's coffin).

Frankly, it's a good thing that Pierpoint's crab cakes are as good as they are, because if they were even a smidge worse, our Pierpoint experience would be hovering strictly in 1-star territory.

Pierpoint Restaurant's Crab Cakes: 3 stars

Off the Map: If Tower of Terror Ever Opens a Restaurant...

Goa Fish -- Ambassador Dining Room, Baltimore, MD
Ambassador Dining Room

Nothing like scaring a busboy half to death to kick off a meal.

Vodka and Bloody Mary arrive at Ambassador Dining Room in Baltimore fifteen minutes before our 5:00 reservation hoping to locate a bar.  Instead, we find a completely empty restaurant situated beyond one of the top ten creepiest lobbies ever, as the Dining Room seems to be part of an apartment house.

What, Does No One Want to Eat Whole Fish Bodies Anymore?!

We stand at the hostess stand waiting for an employee to point us to the bar (of which we later learn there is none), and when a busboy finally emerges from the back, gripping a pitcher of water, he jumps a solid inch in the air at the sight of us.

Presumably He Thought the Ambassador Ghosts Had Finally Come to Haunt Him

He manages to pull it together long enough to send us back into the ghost-town of a lobby to wait for 5:00pm to arrive, which is where we decide that the Ambassador Apartments could rival the Omni Parker House on the eeriness scale.  Dark with overly large, old-fashioned furniture, the lobby even features an ominous wooden "Manager" sign hanging above a ringing telephone (with no such "Manager" in sight).

The place is striaght out of Disney World's Tower of Terror.

The "Manager" Actually Died 400 Years Ago.... OoOooo....

Based on all of this "ambiance," imagine our surprise when we are finally escorted to our table at the back of the dining room, only to find a full, lush garden out the windows and multiple fireplaces framing our seats.

What a difference twenty feet can make.

No Hitchhiking Ghosts in These Parts

The Only Thing This Hearth Is Missing Is a Cat Basking In Its Warmth

Settling in, we (finally) order some cocktails -- red wine for Vodka (a generous pour - thanks Ambassador) and a ginger-based drink for Bloody Mary (Ginger would be so proud).

Goblet of Wine Dwarfing the Cocktail

We also ask for Duff Goldman's chosen Best Thing I Ever Ate SAUCED dish, the goa fish (a whole pan-fried fish topped with roasted garlic, tamarind, and scallion), along with chicken tikka masala and naan.

This Looks Excessively Like Something Oscar the Grouch Would Wrap Up in His Newspaper

The Standard "Least Scary" Indian Dish for Weak Palates

Truth be told, we are not overly excited at the promise of dining on a whole fish -- we don't particularly like to work for our food, and such a presentation seems to dictate a lot of effort (what with all the fish bones and all).

Mom, Please Cut Up Our Food

As we wait for our fish slaughter, we sip contentedly at our drinks and watch the busboys add an ever-increasing number of lit candles to the room, including on the window fixtures above our heads.

Precarious Lighting Fixtures

"I wish those candles on the windows weren't lit," Vodka says, breaking the mood.  "I have highly flammable hair."  Before Vodka can catch on fire, our complimentary bread basket arrives, which is full of potato and pea-stuffed naan (which, because we are morons, we at first mistake for the plain naan we have ordered).

It All Kinda Looks the Same from the Outside Though, Doesn't It?

When our entrees are placed before us, we immediately have entirely too many plates on the table.  Between the whole fish, the chicken, each of our sides of rice and creamed spinach, and the plain naan, we barely know where to begin.

So Instead of Dealing with the Problem, We Do the Logical Thing: Drink More

Gingerly, Vodka begins peeling off pieces of the fish and handing them to Bloody Mary piecemeal.  The fish itself is, thankfully, airy, light, and easy to break apart.

One Fish Two Fish Me Fish You Fish

The white meat is soft and pleasing, if a bit bland, as the outer layer of sauce has remained almost strictly on the fish skin.

Pucker Up

When we manage to taste the sauce, we find it excessively like soy sauce - salty and garlicky, and thus, in Vodka's opinion, delicious.

The Better to See You With, My Dear

By some miracle, we manage to make it through most of the fish with only one bone issue (courtesy of Bloody Mary), and while the fish was better than we had expected, we are not blown away.

Though We Do Know How to Make a Plate of Food Look Horrible

Similarly, the chicken tikka masala is tasty, if completely standard as far as we can tell, and we enjoy the bread basket naan ten times more than the plain variety we had ordered .

Naan in Need of Some Garlic Salt

The sides of rice and creamed spinach (at least, we think the green stuff has derived from spinach) is especially good, most likely because it features a carb, and we love a carb.

What's With the Solitary Pea?!

While the food overall is tasty enough, it seems that the one thing the Ambassador Dining Room has going for it is its scenery, what with the garden, fireplaces, and candles.

That is, if you can make it through the lobby without being kidnapped by a ghost.

Ambassador Dining Room's Goa Fish: 3 stars

Off the Map: Would You Be Interested in Tailgating?

Chaps Special Submarine -- Chaps Pit Beef, Baltimore, MD
Chaps Pit Beef

Well, it's happened.  Vodka has crossed an item off of her bucket list (that she never even wanted on her bucket list in the first place):

Vodka has ridden in a pick-up truck.  Vodka has also "tailgated" in the flatbed trunk of a pick-up truck.  Apparently, this is the kind of thing that happens when one goes to Chaps Pit Beef in Baltimore.

Vodka Probably Would Have Done Such Things at a Professional Football Game Had She Ever Agreed to Go to One

Best Thing I Ever Ate is sending Vodka to Chaps Pit Beef for the Chaps Special Submarine, a sandwich which consists of corn beef, ham, roast beef, and American cheese.  Because Bloody Mary is being judgmental about Chaps's high class "reputation" (and in truth, because she wants to start cocktail consumption stat), she forces her friend to escort us to the establishment.  Located on a highway, spewing smoke out of a multitude of chimney stacks, and nestled next to a strip club, Chaps Pit Beef is not exactly Le Bernardin. 

James Beard Award Winner?

Keeping It Classy, Baltimore

Still, as Chaps features a long line of customers out the door, it seems Guy Fieri knew his stuff on the BETWEEN BREAD episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.

And He's Apparently Intent on Proving It

What Is Sniveling?!

We snake our way into the restaurant, which features a small number of picnic tables scattered around two windows: one where you order and one where you pick up (the Baltimore version of a "drive-thru").

Would Be Easier If We Could Actually Drive Through in the Pick-Up Truck...

Vodka places an order for one special sub sandwich, and the pleasant woman behind the first window asks if it's okay that the sandwich comes with American cheese (so Chaps also suddenly keeps kosher practices?) and how we'd like our meat cooked (we say medium).

And With That, We're Overwhelmed

We loop around to the next window, and it then becomes obvious why Chaps is able to specify the degree to which a customer wants her meat cooked -- a giant display of simmering meats stands over smokers just inside the window, and shavings are removed for each individual sandwich.  Vodka tries clandestinely to photograph the procedure, but when one of the cooks sees her, he leaps out of her way rather than block her view (Ginger could take a lesson from this man).

Meat-Fest Photo Op

As we wait for our sandwich, Vodka becomes obsessed with procuring plastic cups of condiments: ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, BBQ sauce, and pickles are soon stacked in her arms, and when our sandwich is ready, we head outside.

Where we climb into the back of a pick-up truck to "tailgate."

One Always Needs Pickles When Dining in the Trunk

Now, climbing into a pick-up truck, for someone who has never done so, is no easy feat, and Vodka and Bloody Mary display as much grace as Tonya Harding when completing the procedure (after all, Vodka has her plethora of condiments to protect).

If Anything Should Happen, Save the Ketchup First

When we are properly assembled (and we take eighteen pictures of ourselves in the back of a pick-up, as this is a circumstance that is sure not to happen again any time soon), we unwrap our sandwich and gawk.

Flintstone-Sized Feast

First of all, while the special submarine itself is rather short and stout, it is packed to maximum capacity with the three varieties of meat, plus thick slivers of orange American cheese.  Vodka spreads ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and pickles on her half, while Bloody Mary sticks with BBQ sauce.  We clutch the roll together tightly and take our first hefty bites.

And tailgating never tasted so good.

"Meat" Me In Baltimore

Against our fears, the sandwich stays together pretty well, a feat we accredit to the roll, which is moldable without being soft, and clutches the meat much more tightly than a crispy Italian roll would.

The Roll Is Also Thankfully Devoid of Those Dreaded Sesame Seeds

The meat itself is ideally cooked -- tender and juicy without being runny, and featuring the faintest hint of smoke.  We each find our respective condiments the ideal accompaniments, and we polish off the sandwich lickety-split.

Good Thing We Have Big Mouths

We also decide that contrary to our initial judgmental thoughts, Chaps Pit Beef submarine is the best thing we have ever eaten... in a pick-up truck parked next to a strip club.

Chaps Special Submarine: 4 stars