Two Days in Baltimore: Puppies, Forts and the Required Crab Sandwich
By Dana Gargano
The last time I was in Baltimore, I was ten, standing at Fort McHenry with my dad, who—true to his park ranger soul—launched into an enthusiastic history lesson about the War of 1812. I was too busy staring at the old cannons to listen.
I remember being fascinated by the fort’s star-shaped design, a defensive choice meant to give the troops a 360-degree view. Even as a kid, I felt the weight of the place, imagining the British ships out on the water, their cannons firing back. I told myself I’d come back one day as an adult, without my dad’s commentary, to experience the fort on my own terms.
Well, I’m back. Older, maybe wiser, and with a different mission: I’m writing a “complete guide to Baltimore” for The Adventurist. My wife’s with me, and so is a squirming, eight-week-old labradoodle named Peanut. I’d always wanted a Chesapeake Bay Retriever—what with growing up around Maryland’s state parks—but my wife is allergic, and here we are with a hypoallergenic fluff ball that looks more teddy bear than dog.
We arrive at the Sagamore Pendry, a former 1914 pier turned luxury hotel, with Peanut half-asleep in my wife’s lap. The Pendry’s lobby smells like cedarwood and money, with staff so polished they could moonlight as perfume ads. I’d like to think I’m impressing everyone, but it’s more likely we’re being judged for wrangling a puppy that is both adorable and borderline incontinent. Our room is the kind of chic where everything looks like it belongs in a showroom—crisp white bedding, dark wooden floors, and the kind of light fixtures that would bankrupt you at Restoration Hardware. Peanut immediately sets to work making the space his own by chewing the corner of the bedspread. I decide it’s best to pretend I didn’t see it.
Baltimore, to me, has always been this tangled, gritty, and almost willfully misunderstood place—somewhere between the chewed edges of the Inner Harbor’s tourist traps and the offbeat charm of Fells Point. And if I’m being honest, I never fully appreciated it growing up. But this trip is different, and not just because I have a drooling, four-legged companion in tow. This city, with its blend of history, waterfront views, and surprisingly stellar crab cakes, deserves a closer look.
Day One: Of Crabs and Cannons
After we settle in, we head to Thames Street Oyster House for dinner, conveniently located in Fells Point, where cobblestone streets practically beg you to twist an ankle. My wife, the more pragmatic half of our duo, scans the menu with laser precision while I contemplate ordering every crab-based dish in existence. Eventually, we settle on oysters (because we’re in Maryland and it’s legally required), and the crab cake sandwich. This crab cake—let me tell you—is the size of Peanut’s head. Golden brown, crisp, and packed with sweet, tender crab, it’s the kind of thing that makes you contemplate moving to Baltimore permanently. Peanut, who has already mastered the art of begging, stares at my plate as if his future happiness depends on the smallest morsel.
Post-dinner, we take Peanut for a walk along the waterfront. He toddles between us, too small to keep up and hilariously clumsy, tumbling over his own paws like an overconfident toddler. The city lights shimmer across the water, and for a moment, Baltimore feels like the kind of place you could fall in love with—if only for the soft glow of the evening reflecting off the harbor.
Day Two: Parks, Pups, and Art
In the morning, after Peanut has tried to destroy yet another corner of hotel property (luckily we caught him before real gnawing could commence), we head to Patterson Park for a hike. Baltimore isn’t exactly known for its rugged wilderness, but Patterson offers a peaceful, sprawling green space right in the city. Peanut tries his best to keep up with us, but at eight weeks old, his legs are more decorative than functional. He stops every ten feet to inspect a leaf or blade of grass, then gets distracted by his own tail. We can’t help but laugh as he bounces between us like a wind-up toy with a bad sense of direction.
Our afternoon takes us to the Baltimore Museum of Art, which, fortunately, allows free entry. I whisper a quiet prayer of thanks, as I’m already calculating the inevitable puppy-damage deposit. The museum’s collection ranges from Matisse to contemporary local artists, and while I’d love to appreciate the finer details, Peanut’s antics make it difficult to focus. He insists on chewing the leash and, at one point, tries to befriend a security guard.
Night on the Town: More Than Meets the Eye
For our final evening, we head to Brewer’s Art, a brewpub with gothic flair. The basement bar, with its low lighting and vaulted ceilings, feels like a hideaway for people who know Baltimore’s hidden gems. We sip on house-brewed ales while Peanut naps under the table. It’s cozy, intimate, and I can’t help but think that this city has a knack for revealing itself slowly, layer by layer, like an onion with a sharp wit and a side of sarcasm.
As we head back to the hotel, Peanut still snoozing, I realize that this trip to Baltimore has been nothing like the Fort McHenry tours of my youth. It’s a city of contrasts, sure, but in those contrasts—between the gritty and the polished, the historic and the modern—there’s a charm that’s impossible to deny. Even for a jaded Maryland native like me.
The Complete Guide to Baltimore
Best Things to do in Baltimore
Whether you’re a history buff, a foodie, or someone who just enjoys wandering around, here’s a guide to five activities that will help you experience the city’s unique flavor.
Baltimore’s Best Restaurants
Baltimore is a city where old charm meets new flavor. From seafood shacks to fine dining establishments, the culinary scene here is as diverse as the people.
The Best Hotels in Baltimore
Baltimore's hotel scene is as eclectic as its neighborhoods. Here’s where to lay your head to recover from the charm offensive that is Charm City.