As city consultants consider the downtown Lexington Market's future, I dropped by this week. There is no firm timetable for what is promised to be an overdue upgrade, but change appears to be on the horizon.
The city recently purchased an arcade addition, which opened at the market in 1982. And, more tellingly, structures near the market, along Eutaw and West Baltimore streets, that were empty or moribund for decades are now encased in a renovator's scaffolding.
The first large transformation, the conversion of the Hecht Co. building to apartments, occurred in 2001. The Hippodrome reopened in 2004. A handful of restaurants have arrived, and they are finding patrons. And while change is more deliberate than it is speedy, it is happening.
The market does not lack business. It is filled with customers dropping by takeout food vendors. Asian dishes seem to predominate, although stalwart businesses remain, too. The signs remain for iconic merchants — Mary Mervis, Mitchell, Barron's, Regan, Faidley. And you can still buy muskrat and raccoon for a tasty January stew.
But I left the market feeling more than a little depressed. Can Baltimore and the state of Maryland not do any better than this? Where is the market I once knew, where the foods were mouthwatering — and a touch exotic. It was probably hyperbole when its ads proclaimed it as "the World-Famous Lexington Market," but the place once put on a great show. You never left hungry.
In the days before there was a "Bizarre Foods" show on cable television, Lexington Market was a temple of truly weird foods. But it also offered the conventional and was a destination for downtown workers at lunch. Saturdays brought weekend shoppers who left the place with loaded shopping bags.
Forty years ago, it offered the butcher's cuts of meat and fish that have assumed a fashionable status among foodies today. It was the tripe capital of Baltimore. Cheeses sold there required gas masks to slice.
I think of the old market in the 1970s. Where is the fabulous, butterfat-rich ice cream of Castle Farms? I think of the family that made the homemade molasses taffy and the tangy relishes and chow chow at the Panzer pickle place. If you needed extra-thick lamb chops or a crown roast of pork, this was a go-to place.
The ancient wooden market burned in 1949 and was replaced by a no-frills masonry food hall that, 65 years later, has the feel of an overused gymnasium with a slanting floor. We Baltimoreans can put up with low-budget environments, but really? You walk into the market's arcade and are greeted by a large sign for tobacco products. Does this send a healthy message where foods are sold?
Other cities have achieved old market transformations. When in Philadelphia, I never miss a visit to the Reading Terminal Market, located in an old railroad shed that has since been incorporated into a convention center complex. I get a cheese omelet for breakfast and return for a scoop of Bassetts ice cream. After Washington's Eastern Market burned, it also came back, much renewed, in the spirit of a farmers' market.
A few weeks ago, I was riding a Circulator bus when a couple asked me for directions. It was Saturday and they had heard about the Lexington Market and put it on their itinerary. They had done their homework. They also planned to walk to afternoon Mass at the Basilica of the Assumption. I admired their curiosity about Baltimore but wished we had a better market to recommend.