I used to live in the city. I used to live on East Baltimore Street by the western edge of Patterson Park in Butchers Hill back when re-gentrification was first taking hold, and rats and addicts and undercover cops still wandered the alleyways. Shortly after I moved there, the city decided to help support the efforts of the well-intended yuppies homesteading in the neighborhood and engaged in some beautification. This included repaving the sidewalks and adding some very attractive brick inlay work. It also included placing giant potted plants on the corners. They lasted until sometime around bar time of the first night. At the time, my friends and I laughed at this with jaded cynicism. It was, however, the beginning of a significant change. I left the neighborhood before this change was complete, and am now amazed when I drive through it on my way out to my current home in the suburbs.

There are so many restaurants these days who are making the minimal effort at creating a space for people to dine and providing them with a decent meal. As we increasingly abdicate our responsibility to provide food for our families to these charlatans, the bar for what is worth paying for gets lower and lower. So often we are served up foot that resembles frozen dinners, both in flavor and craftsmanship, as if we should be willing to pay to have someone else do the cleaning up and count ourselves satisfied.

Sometimes the worst situations reveal the best in a restaurant. Today may have been such a day for Mai Thai in Baltimore. I placed a take out order and arrived to find the beginnings of the lunch rush with a single employee staffing the front of the house - host, bartender, wait staff, and busser. Oh, and the phone. He never missed a call. He remained pleasant and energetic, sometimes sprinting from the front dining area back to the kitchen, never breaking a sweat or losing his smile.