Haussner's was certainly admired for its cuisine, which combined traditional German specialties like Wiener schnitzel a la Holstein with Mid-Atlantic fare such as crab cakes and terrapin stew. And people still dream about the dessert selection, especially the strawberry pie.

But Haussner's was loved for being Haussner's, a one-of-a-kind dining destination, every inch of it decorated with works of art collected by William Henry Haussner's wife, Frances Wilke Haussner.

"At the height of its popularity," The Baltimore Sun reported in the days leading up to its 1999 closing, "Haussner's served 1,600 meals on Saturdays and patrons waited an hour outside in a line stretching around the corner."

Legacy: The building and its kitchen equipment were donated to Baltimore International College, now Stratford University's School of Culinary Arts and Hospitality Management. (The building has since been passed on to another owner.) Generally regarded as kitsch during its time, the Haussner's art collection brought in $11.3 million at a 1999 Sotheby's auction. Nostalgia for Haussner's was stoked when the third-season premiere of "Mad Men" included a scene set inside the restaurant.



In his home on Mulberry Street, Morris Martick introduced Baltimore to the glories of bouillabaisse, pate and sweet potato soup. And people kept coming back, even when the neighborhood surrounding Martick's began to fade.

Martick's Restaurant Francais wasn't for everybody, which was what made it special. Diners had to buzz their way in; the door was always locked. The odd decor, with its snakeskin wall covering, was a kind of ugly-beautiful that only a true devotee could appreciate.

Mostly there was Morris Martick himself, who, after sending out false alarms for years, finally closed his restaurant in 2008. His death in 2011 made many Baltimoreans feel that an era of colorful characters was coming to a close.

Legacy: There are plans to bring back Martick's, not as a French restaurant but as a speakeasy-style lounge, in early August.



Couples dined at Maison Marconi once a week, for decades, and ordered the same thing every time — the chopped salad, lobster Cardinale, the lamb chops, the chocolate fudge sundae — served by the same tuxedo-clad waiter. Nothing ever changed, except when it finally did.

Ilene Ruth Booke took over the operations of Marconi's in 1994, which her parents had purchased in the early 1970s, and did what had been thought unthinkable: She fixed the place up, replacing the scenic wallpaper in the front dining room with cool mint-green paint. And so, in its final years, Marconi's, which had been famed and beloved for its downright dowdiness, took on a sober, strand-of-pearls elegance.

When lawyer and Orioles owner Peter A. Angelos bought Marconi's in 2000, he talked of relocating it. He never did, though, and he closed the restaurant five years later.

Legacy: The dowdy and not-so-dowdy periods are hopelessly confused in people's minds. When Angelos closed the restaurant, he said, "Marconi's is not going to be going away permanently. There will be future announcements in a month or two." But so far, it has remained closed.

Woman's Industrial Exchange

(1887-2002; Woman's Industrial Kitchen, 2011-present)

By the early 1970s, the lunchroom inside the Woman's Industrial Exchange at Charles and Pleasant streets became well known for being very old-fashioned, the kind of place where ladies in hats still had their luncheon (not lunch). The fare was soft-shell crabs, chilled sockeye salmon with cucumber slices, and Charlotte Russe for dessert. There was a working dumbwaiter but not a cash register.