ANALYSIS/OPINION:
Opulence, thy name is Ivy.
There is simply no place like Baltimore’s Ivy Hotel, the luxurious — and I do mean luxurious — boutique hotel located in Charm City’s historic Mt. Vernon neighborhood. But a short drive from Washington, the Ivy offers a pampering that is unmatched anywhere in the capital corridor region.
The Washington Times recently spent a weekend enjoying all that this magnificent property has to offer.
Friday:
Driving up to the front of the property, Victoria and I are met by twin valets in impeccable suits. These two gentlemen are about as crisp a first impression as could ever be hoped for, as they greet us warmly and offer to take our bags to our room and shuffle off my car to the property’s garage for safekeeping.
I’ve been on the property for less than two minutes, but already I can feel the stress of working in the difficult news business — especially now — begin to melt away. Our valets and other hotel staff, always cheery, entreat us to take the elevator from the arrival up to the lounge, where we step into an ornate lobby with a baby grand piano, and where we are immediately handed flutes of champagne.
Tipping is verboten at The Ivy. As a veteran of many stints in the service industries myself, at first this strikes me as odd, but it quickly explains the absolute A-plus nature of the staff: With the incentivization to be extra kindly removed from the equation — and with a wage above and beyond industry standards — the often-plastic experience of “welcome” at an inn is effectively neutralized.
These folks are being kindly to us because they are amazing workers, and because they clearly like their jobs and are treated well by the business.
At the front desk we are given the rundown of the property’s rather unique history: The Ivy was once a private mansion in “old” Baltimore, but through time and change, it has been expanded both within and without to become the world-class property it is now. We are given a tour of the game room — which I swear is right out of “Clue” — with its pool table, antique furniture and even aperitifs and drinking glasses at the ready.
In the dining room is a bar worthy of Christian Gray, with high-end spirits from around the world, craft beer from Baltimore and around the U.S., as well as wines and, seemingly, whatever you may so desire — including a selection of books if reading material is part of your relaxation plan.
As my esteemed girlfriend is English, she insists we sit down in the dining/living room of The Ivy for afternoon high tea. I know her standards are high, but as soon as we open up the menu, I smile knowing that this will suit her fancy. The tea selection is world-class, with the likes of Extra Regal Earl Grey from China, Emperor’s Jasmine Pearls from Okinawa and First Flush Darjeeling from India only some on offer. Such amazing warm beverages are complemented by savory treats like Vermont cheddar cheese sandwiches, smoked salmon, wasabi ginger creme fraiche and cured olive tapenade and cream cheese. Each is a tasty sensation, and go perfectly with the tea. For sweets there are golden raisin and creme scones, citrus marmalade and lemon curd and, on the top row of the tower of treats, chocolate ganache cup and fresh fruit tartlets.
The presentation is exquisite, with the three-tiered tray expertly displaying the delicious parts of this fine meal. Service is without a flaw.
I’ve had high tea in England, and it has nothing on The Ivy experience.
On to our room, No. 17, the “Loft Suite.” How can I even begin to describe this paragon of high accommodation? Walking into the suite, we are met with artworks galore, but ones that fit duly into the motif of the room rather than calling attention to themselves. To our left is the absolutely palatial bathroom area, which has (and I’m not kidding here) both a walk-in shower big enough for, well, let’s say more than two, a his and hers sink and stands for toiletries, as well as a whirlpool bath.
Just the bathroom area is larger than my apartment, and, I’d wager, a more pleasing area to visit.
Near the entrance to the bedroom suite is a dining table set with chairs. A gift basket and kindly note from the staff awaits us, as does a bottle of bubbly for this evening. Two recliners with an ottoman face the living room’s TV, and a healthy collection of books is at the ready should one of the three books in which I am currently waist-deep not suffice.
The enormous bed is surrounded by curtains worthy of Ebeneezer Scrooge, and even as much as a bed hog as I can be, somehow I don’t think Victoria will have any problem having enough real estate of her own. There are so many pillows that the pillow forts for which I am famous will be one-upped this weekend.
And, the height of luxury, there’s a second TV right next to the bed, just in case, you know, we’re feeling too lazy to open up the bed curtains to stare at the living room’s but a few feet away. There’s also a docking port for our iPhones to provide us our own weekend soundtrack.
It’s decided: We’re never leaving.
After such a lovely afternoon inside The Ivy, Victoria and I opt to take an excursion off campus. We head down to the waterfront Canton neighborhood for dinner at Mama’s on the Half Shell (2901 O’Donnell St, Baltimore, Maryland, 21224, 410/276-3160), where craft beer and oysters shucked fresh from the Chesapeake are on order. Trust me when I say that the beer mussels are an absolute must for dining, and really, though on the appetizer menu, could be enjoyed as its own entree. After that and a course of fresh Chincoteague oysters from Virginia and salt pond from Rhode Island, I’m pretty near full, but then the bouillabaisse, my entree, shows up. It’s a positive vat of goodness, sporting shrimp, scallops, mussels, clams and fish over rice. It’s a meal for three, and I should have just had the beer mussels and the raw oysters.
After a waterfront stroll, Victoria and I head back The Ivy, where we fall into a contented and comforting sleep.
Saturday:
I typically have to be dragged out of bed for breakfast, and it’s true this morning as Victoria, coffee in hand, assures me it’ll be worth it.
She is not wrong.
On the lower level of The Ivy is an indoor/outdoor breakfast area that juts out from the building and into the inside courtyard. We plunk down at an outdoor table and begin to peruse the multiple newspapers the staff have offered, and which were delivered to our room in a lovely carrying bag. (Please, people, support your local newspapers!)
With lovely quiet jazz in background, we start off with the pastries basket, which is a true morning delight, as well as some amazingly prepared smoked salmon.
Reader, I am not typically prone to superlatives, but I must say that the eggs benedict served as my main is far and away the best I have ever had in all of my travels. The runniness of the eggs is expertly prepared, and the presentation is matched by the taste.
I’m almost tempted to drive up here every morning from Washington just for this.
After a little siesta, Vicky and I head off again for another little adventure. In nearby Remington sits The Baltimore Whiskey Company (2800 Sisson St, Baltimore, Maryland, 21211, 443/687-9099), and we are met by proprietor Max Lents. Despite the prominence in their company name, the business’ Baltimore whiskey isn’t yet on offer, and Max points to barrels above our heads where the virgin white dog remains encased for its aging. (Max posits the barrels will be tapped next year.)
What they do have, however, are some gins and applejack brandy ready to taste. The Charles Street Apple Brandy Eau de Vie has a pleasant taste, and will be appropriate when the cold weather returns. The Shot Tower Gin, named in honor of a 19th century Baltimore edifice — it’s also featured on the company’s logo — boasts a fully textured jasmine nose and a floral taste.
Being British, Victoria is incredibly particular about her gins, but the Shot Tower and the Shot Tower Barreled both meet with her enthusiastic approval, assuring a bottle will be coming home with us.
Baltimore Whiskey Company, which recently picked up gold and silver medals at the San Francisco World Spirits Competition in May, is open Saturday afternoon for tours, and their products can be found in 300 liquor stores and bars in Baltimore and the District.
Back at our lodging, there’s a knock at the door, and two friendly staffers escort enter into The Spa at The Ivy for a relaxing afternoon couple’s massage. I’ve dealt with low-back issues for years on the right side, and they’ve begun radiating to my left hip as well, so I’m truly ready for this. (Remember, be honest with your therapist about your problem areas; you’re doing no one any good by making them guess.) It’s a heavenly hourlong treatment, with soft, soothing music on speakers and the aromas of treatment products soothing us further into bliss.
As relaxed as we now are, we’re of a mind to get some fresh air, so Victoria and I take a stroll around the Mt. Vernon neighborhood. We pass the historic George Peabody Library, where my cousin Peter wed his Baltimore native bride in 2011 — and which remains open for such occasions. Nearby are also statues of the Marquis de Lafayette and John Eager Howard in tribute to their contributions to the history of Charm City, and the catty-corner Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church offers a startling example of Gothic architecture.
Back at Room 17 we change into our dining finery and head downstairs to Magdalena, The Ivy’s highly regarded bistro. The setup is as unique as the property, with one dining area by the bar — not far from where we had breakfast — and then several rooms deeper back in the facility. There’s even a wine cellar, where an entire family is dining and making much use of The Ivy’s rather impressive wine list.
On that score, my lady and I chose a Del Rio Vineyards Pinot Gris from southern Oregon. It’s a bit spicy on the nose but crisp to the tongue. First up for us food-wise is bread baked fresh on the premises and served with pesto, which is absolutely delicious. As we are both oyster connoisseurs, we try out the oyster platter, which entails one blue bay from Connecticut and five Stella point oysters from British Columbia. I enjoy local varieties too, but sometimes you need to go afar for your mollusks, and I’m grateful the chefs at The Ivy selected these.
Victoria and I choose braised octopus for the table, which is prepared in such a professional way that I don’t think I could ever successfully accomplish it on my own even given 100 tries. The halibut too is nicely prepared — braised and perfectly al dente.
As there is always room for dessert (I’ve checked, and it’s a scientific fact, trust me) we cap off our wonderful meal — and weekend — with the deconstructed Black Forrest special, each spoonful of which is a taste symphony.
Neither of us wants this weekend to end, but alas, as with all good things, it must. Upon checking out Sunday morning, we assure the incredible staff that we will return.
For hospitality such as The Ivy’s is simply without equal.
To book your own getaway, visit TheIvyBaltimore.com.
• Eric Althoff can be reached at twt@washingtontimes.com.
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