Pumpkin Fest, Smaltimore (7 p.m. – 10 p.m.)
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Pumpkin Fest, Smaltimore (7 p.m. – 10 p.m.)
There may seem to be a never-ending barrage of content posted by Hopkins students who flocked back to Charles Village in early September to escape their hometowns or get the most out of their leases they couldn’t cancel. But many people (including myself) can only watch from afar. While all my Baltimore housemates patronize the 32nd Street Farmers Market, I bemoan the block-long line at Trader Joe’s. As they check out the new Ministry of Brewing, I share a Pabst Blue Ribbon with my mom.
The Garage Sale, R. House (12 p.m. - 4 p.m.)
I have a lot of wonderful words to share about the Ministry of Brewing, but in case you are in a rush to recover from midterm season or the impending election with strong and delicious drinks, I will say: You should definitely go here. My friends and I decided to head to the Ministry of Brewing this Friday afternoon, conveniently timed at 5 p.m. to celebrate another midterm season approximately halfway finished.
My friends and I have become increasingly conscious of the lost months from March onward and our rapidly approaching graduation this coming May. A month ago, we finally all congregated in our East University home. This has led to a few spontaneous get-togethers as we attempt to explore new socially-distanced and outdoor venues during what may be our final year in Baltimore.
It’s Saturday morning. You step outside your building hungover, 15 minutes late, organic tote bag in hand. You spy two figures waiting for you. One of them sports fading blue hair. Clearly, she’s not like other girls (newsflash: she is). The other figure wears a neck gaiter (okay Miss Rona) and oversized sunglasses. She could literally be anybody.
Whenever I travel from home to Baltimore, my mom has one question for me: “Do you want to bring back any food?”
The coronavirus’ (COVID-19) impact on the world and Baltimore has been far-reaching and all-encompassing. For artists and venues who rely on audiences and crowds to make ends meet, its impacts can be particularly drastic. However, venue Mobtown Ballroom, located in the downtown neighborhood Pigtown, has sought to help artists support themselves in a time where performance might otherwise be difficult to participate in.
Given the current Maryland stay-at-home order, my housemate and I have been primarily at home with each other since she returned to our off-campus house in Charles Village early last week. Our search for activities has left us on increasingly long walks, which this Wednesday included picking up Orto in Station North. Going off of a recommendation from a friend, we were also intrigued by the inclusion of Negroni Jello shots (four for $10) on the menu, and decided it was a worthwhile way to spend our Wednesday night.
The coronavirus (COVID-19) has led to many public health edicts, including social distancing and shutting down non-essential business. Many report an increased sense of social isolation amid the current crisis.
The current coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic has caused some of the most widespread business shutdown orders we have ever seen. On Monday, March 24, Maryland Governor Larry Hogan announced the closure of all non-essential businesses.
COURTESY OF JESSE WU
Everyone who visits Baltimore always wants to try the seafood. My parents always want to have a Maryland crab feast when they visit town, and they always ask for the crabcakes and the Old Bay everything. But anyone on a budget who wants an equally iconic taste of Baltimore should go for a chicken box.
Applying for graduation is actually a pretty simple process. You just verify your degree audit, choose which ceremony you plan on attending and provide written proof that you have patronized UniMini in the small hours of a Sunday morning.
My brother has never been as interested in my life as after he watched HBO’s The Wire. “Hey Jesse, is this what Baltimore is actually like?”
The waft of pancakes drifts through the air. Normally, the scent of freshly-made pancakes would make almost anyone’s mouth salivate. But early this morning, the saturated smell is suffocating, almost nauseating.
The first time I encountered the term “soul food,” I was in the sixth grade. Our Spanish class was on the way to a Salvadorian restaurant to practice ordering in Spanish, and the storefront next to our destination read “SOUL FOOD” in all caps.