PJ's Pub |
|
| 3333 N. Charles St. | |
| Baltimore, MD 21218 | |
| 410-243-8844 | |
|
Hours:
Daily: 11 a.m.-1 a.m. | |
| What's nearby: | |
PJ's is for students who are hungry, not picky
Bar food and beer for the scholars at Hopkins
By Karen Nitkin
Special to the Sun
Originally published on June 3, 2004
My eating habits in college were terrible. All those gravy-covered french fries, late-night pizzas and happy-
hour chicken wings took their toll, and I just about doubled the freshman 15.
There's something about being in college, away from parents and with all those academic pressures, that seems
to inspire unhealthy eating. Maybe that's why every college town needs a place like PJ's Pub, a 20-year-old bar and restaurant near the Johns Hopkins University.
Though non-academics are, of course, allowed to eat at PJ's, the menu of burgers, tacos, wings, sandwiches and
pizzas clearly caters to the college demographic. And here's a little fact that says it all: Anyone who orders a 16-inch
pizza gets a free pitcher of beer (or soda).
Though PJ's does serve several salads, this is not a place for healthful eating. It is a bar
that serves bar-type food at bar-food prices until 1 in the morning. As if to show that
drinking is just as important as food, when you walk in the door and down several stairs,
you'll pass a small area where bottles of booze are sold before you get to the main bar
and dining room.
The basement-level restaurant has all the accessories one would expect of such a place, including a pool table,
televisions and several arcade games. The only thing missing is live music, but that's because the acoustics are terrible, says owner Jerry Smith.
There's no hostess to show you to your seat, but once you've found an empty table, a server will arrive in short order
with tattered, laminated menus. Several specials are written on a chalkboard, but don't expect her to mention the specials or recommend anything.
She also won't tell you until after you order them that several offerings on the menu, including a seafood pasta and a
cold pasta salad, are no longer being served. The fanciest item still on the menu is a steak and crab cake combo,
which costs $12.95.
Your server will probably ask how you'd like it prepared, but unless you say medium well, your answer may not
matter. I asked for medium rare and got a slab of meat with just the faintest hint of pink in the middle. The crab cake, nicely fried, was OK for anyplace else in the world but had too much filler and not enough lumps to meet picky
Maryland standards.
The crowded platter also came with crisp, flavorful fries, perhaps the best thing out of PJ's kitchen, though I didn't
try the Maryland vegetable crab soup, which, according to the menu, recently won a contest sponsored by McCormick,
the local spice company that gives the world Old Bay.
The chicken quesadilla, which arrived with small plastic tubs of salsa and sour cream, was nothing more than chicken, onions, cheese and green peppers in a grilled tortilla. For some reason, perhaps because the onions and peppers were not cooked enough, the parts never became a unified whole.
A pit beef sandwich, one of several warm sandwiches offered, was also more miss than hit. The slices of beef were tender enough but were coated in a weird sweet-tart sauce and served on an untoasted roll.
A special of Mexican pizza, with spicy ground beef, olives, peppers and onions on a decent chewy crust, could have
worked if someone had shown a little restraint with the cheese and the jalapenos. The pizza was almost too spicy to
eat.
PJ's doesn't serve desserts, but it has a wide variety of foamy draft beers.
Ratings:
Food: ** 1/2
Service: ** 1/2
Atmosphere: ** 1/2
Rating system: Outstanding: ****; Good ***; Fair or uneven **; Poor *
Bar food and beer for the scholars at Hopkins
By Karen Nitkin
Special to the Sun
Originally published on June 3, 2004
My eating habits in college were terrible. All those gravy-covered french fries, late-night pizzas and happy-
hour chicken wings took their toll, and I just about doubled the freshman 15.
There's something about being in college, away from parents and with all those academic pressures, that seems
to inspire unhealthy eating. Maybe that's why every college town needs a place like PJ's Pub, a 20-year-old bar and restaurant near the Johns Hopkins University.
Though non-academics are, of course, allowed to eat at PJ's, the menu of burgers, tacos, wings, sandwiches and
pizzas clearly caters to the college demographic. And here's a little fact that says it all: Anyone who orders a 16-inch
pizza gets a free pitcher of beer (or soda).
Though PJ's does serve several salads, this is not a place for healthful eating. It is a bar
that serves bar-type food at bar-food prices until 1 in the morning. As if to show that
drinking is just as important as food, when you walk in the door and down several stairs,
you'll pass a small area where bottles of booze are sold before you get to the main bar
and dining room.
The basement-level restaurant has all the accessories one would expect of such a place, including a pool table,
televisions and several arcade games. The only thing missing is live music, but that's because the acoustics are terrible, says owner Jerry Smith.
There's no hostess to show you to your seat, but once you've found an empty table, a server will arrive in short order
with tattered, laminated menus. Several specials are written on a chalkboard, but don't expect her to mention the specials or recommend anything.
She also won't tell you until after you order them that several offerings on the menu, including a seafood pasta and a
cold pasta salad, are no longer being served. The fanciest item still on the menu is a steak and crab cake combo,
which costs $12.95.
Your server will probably ask how you'd like it prepared, but unless you say medium well, your answer may not
matter. I asked for medium rare and got a slab of meat with just the faintest hint of pink in the middle. The crab cake, nicely fried, was OK for anyplace else in the world but had too much filler and not enough lumps to meet picky
Maryland standards.
The crowded platter also came with crisp, flavorful fries, perhaps the best thing out of PJ's kitchen, though I didn't
try the Maryland vegetable crab soup, which, according to the menu, recently won a contest sponsored by McCormick,
the local spice company that gives the world Old Bay.
The chicken quesadilla, which arrived with small plastic tubs of salsa and sour cream, was nothing more than chicken, onions, cheese and green peppers in a grilled tortilla. For some reason, perhaps because the onions and peppers were not cooked enough, the parts never became a unified whole.
A pit beef sandwich, one of several warm sandwiches offered, was also more miss than hit. The slices of beef were tender enough but were coated in a weird sweet-tart sauce and served on an untoasted roll.
A special of Mexican pizza, with spicy ground beef, olives, peppers and onions on a decent chewy crust, could have
worked if someone had shown a little restraint with the cheese and the jalapenos. The pizza was almost too spicy to
eat.
PJ's doesn't serve desserts, but it has a wide variety of foamy draft beers.
Ratings:
Food: ** 1/2
Service: ** 1/2
Atmosphere: ** 1/2
Rating system: Outstanding: ****; Good ***; Fair or uneven **; Poor *
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