Morris Martick on Park Ave. downtown in Sept. 2010, photographed by Baltimore blogger David R. Crews. The eccentric's memorial at the Charles Theatre Sunday afternoon drew a crowd of more than 300 participants.
MEMORIAL SERVICE DRAWS 300
FOR ECCENTRIC RESTAURATEUR
By Anthony C. Hayes
As tens of thousands of Ravens football fans cheered the city’s team at chilly M&T Bank Stadium Sunday afternoon, a smaller but no less enthusiastic crowd of about 300 friends, former employees and family members huddled in the warmth of the Charles Theatre to remember a local legend known for his bouillabaisse, country pâté and profiteroles (cream puffs).
Some traveled from as far away as Texas and California to remember the eccentric Morris Martick, the Mad Maven of Mulberry St. who died of lung cancer in mid- December at age 88 and who, in four decades of running the unique restaurant at 214 W. Mulberry St. which bore his family name, moved from keeper of the ladle to beloved Baltimore legend.
Angela Devoti worked for Martick as a waitress and bartender in the restaurant’s later years. (It closed in 2008.) She recalled both a warm friendship with the octogenarian as well as a tempestuous tenure in his employ.
“Morris would argue about anything,” she said. “You had to realize that was part of his nature and learn to find a way to hold your ground while arguing back.”
Devoti said she would often transport Martick to other venues around town, bars or restaurants where her artist friends worked. When asked if Martick had a particular favorite, Devoti replied, “He just liked going out and seeing other places and meeting new people.”
It was clear from her words of affection that Martick had his own particular charm. When asked what made him attractive, Devoti replied, “He was ageless and hilarious!”
CONFRONTATIONAL YET COMFORTING
Alex Martick recalled his brother as being confrontational yet comforting. He said Morris once placated a regular customer who had initially refused her meal. A few minutes of personal attention was all the woman really wanted.
“The thing that makes a place unique is the person, or rather the people who own it,” he said. But brother Alex was quick to add: “If Morris was alive today, he wouldn’t be here [at this memorial]. He’d be home watching the Ravens game.”
Jimmy Rouse, son of the famous developer — who worked for more than eight years at Martick’s Resturant Français before opening his own place, Louie’s Bookstore Café, five blocks away on Charles Street — remembered how it was that he came to work for the enigmatic Martick.
Charles Theatre marquee heralds Martick memorial service which took place Sunday afternoon during the Ravens game. (VoB Photo/Anthony C. Hayes)
Rouse told how an agitated fellow came into a bar, grousing about Martick and how he had just quit his job after “throwing a bottle of wine at the owner.” Rouse rightly surmised, “That means there’s a job opening” at Martick’s; and he was working for Morris that very same night.
There were other tales too, like the one of an employee named Churchill Davenport who Martick fired at least once a week. With each dismissal, Davenport would shrug off the sacking, noting, “You can’t fire me, I need this job,” after which he would immediately be rehired.
Poet and author Barbara DeCesare, another eulogist who once labored under Morris’s sometimes besotted, watchful eye, offered Martick’s answer to the question, “What makes the Mongolian Beef (on the menu) Mongolian?”
“I do,” replied Martick, thus ending the culinary inquisition.
An early malfunction with a digital slide show presentation of Martick’s life only added to the mirthful nature of the memorial. The third slide in the series froze with a picture of Martick — sticking his tongue out at his adoring audience.
Larry Martick, the sole surviving nephew of the cantankerous cook, summed up his uncle’s well honed customer service philosophy:
‘NEVER ASK A CUSTOMER’
“Morris said, ‘Never ask a customer if everything is all right. That’s an open-ended question and can elicit any number of complaints. Just ask, ‘Can I get you anything?’”
It was never easy getting anything from Morris Martick, he and others noted. But when one did, the reward was well worth the wait.
Former Baltimore Sun reporter and writer Rafael Alvarez (of “The Wire” fame) summed up the feeling of many at this celebration of Morris Martick’s life:
“When someone like Morris dies, it’s not just the end of a life but the end of an era. Another part of what makes Baltimore unique has been lost.”
A reception after the memorial featuring Martick’s favorite foods followed at the Metro Gallery, across the street from the Charles in the Station North Arts and Entertainment District.
mypoetrypage@yahoo.com (Tony Hayes’ email)
Check out Voice of Baltimore‘s Carroll County correspondent Kevin Dayhoff’s compendium on Morris Martick (click here)
See also David R. Crews’ blog entry about a September 2010 encounter between Rafael Alvarez and Martick near his former restaurant (click here). Photos and video included on the blog.
Martick's Restaurant Français at 214 W. Mulberry St., corner of Tyson St., has been boarded up since it closed in 2008. Its owner was eulogized Sunday at the Charles Theatre. (VoB Photo/Anthony C. Hayes)
January 16th, 2012 - 12:09 AM
Nearly every time I ate at Martick’s, Morris refused to cook what I had ordered, assuring me, “I’ll make you something you’ll like better.”
And he did. And he was right! But he would never tell me in advance what it was gonna be. Or what I had just eaten.
When I ran into him one time years ago at Louie’s Bookstore and noted facetiously that he must have come there in order to get something good to eat, he quipped: “It’s everybody’s night off; there was no one around to cook for me.” And then he added, “Can you cook?”
“Not like you,” I responded sheepishly, recognizing I had been one-upped.
January 16th, 2012 - 4:18 PM
During high school in the mid sixties, my friends and I often went to Mee Jun Low’s, a Chinese restaurant 2-story walkup across the street from Martick’s. Sometimes as we left we would sing “Goodnight Irene” to the owner of that name. Anyway, for us, Martick’s was a deep mystery. Although my family would travel from Mount Washington to eat at many of the notable downtown restaurants of that time for special occasions, Martick’s was off limits somehow. It wasn’t until I began returning to Baltimore in the 80’s for the annual February American Craft Council show that I ventured to knock on Martick’s door. Once let in by Morris that first time, it became a place that I would take other out-of-town ACC show exhibitors to share the experience, once including the videoing of a John Waters interview at a nearby table. Just a memory now . . . .
January 16th, 2012 - 6:47 PM
Martick’s was different when you were in high school in the mid-60s. According to Jacques Kelly’s December 16 obit in The Sun, Morris “ran the place as a bar with family members from the 1940s until 1967 — and served bar fare such as hamburgers and Reuben sandwiches.” After spending three years studying French cooking at “a small country restaurant in Pacy-sur-Eure, France,… he reopened the establishment in 1970 and ran it through August 2008” as Martick’s Restaurant Français.
Mee Jun Low’s was located at 219 W. Mulberry St. Irene was the only server but she somehow managed to get everyone’s order right, even when the place was packed. However, like Martick, she would argue with your menu choices, then scream your order back to the cook. (Martick never screamed in the restaurant, only upstairs in the kitchen, at the help — which could often be heard by patrons in the dining room below.)
May 28th, 2012 - 10:36 AM
Angela Devoti is a starfucker. She only worked at Martick’s sbout 3 months and got fired for stealing money.
March 11th, 2014 - 12:37 AM
yeah my granmom Irene was quite something back in the day . i remember visiting her at meejunlow she had my aunt n my mother work there few times n few her sons would bus tables occasionally . lo hing the one cook was something to watch cooking.
March 11th, 2014 - 12:39 AM
have to add abe’s books store downstairs everyone used to say he was mean but he was always cool to me =)
August 19th, 2020 - 5:29 PM
Does anyone remember Malcolm Soul, the waitress?
May 30th, 2023 - 7:28 PM
Irene was my Mother who passed away Sept 2001 but she will never be forgotten by anyone who meant her her birthday was June 4 1923 so please wish this one and only Irene Thank you her daughter Adam now 66 and a chip off the old block ?????Happy Birthday in Heaven Mom Baltimore loves u Always?
June 6th, 2023 - 6:04 PM
RESPONSE TO COMMENT BY “Anonymous” POSTED MAY 30th 2023:
Thank you so much for your fond remembrance regarding iconic Mee Jun Low waitress Irene. Like the commenter above (“little billy g”), I was a teenager in Baltimore in the 1950s and remember your Mother well. Please contact me — privately if you wish — at alforman@voiceofbaltimore.org as I would love to learn more about Irene: She remains one of my fondest teenage memories. Perhaps your son (or nephew?) Jimmy might also provide additional information? [Please put “IRENE” in the Subject line so that your message does not get inadvertently deleted.] Thank you.
January 31st, 2024 - 2:22 PM
My friend Billie Hadaway, a noted jeweler, was my neighbor around the corner from ny house on Pleasant St. in the alley behind what is now a condo building. Once I was returning from work at Hopkins at night in 1972. A tall, skinny black-haired man in black was leaning against the closed Marticks door. He hunched forward and laughed and started to follow me up Tyson alley which I noticed. In the dark, I sped up and made the turn onto Pleasant t., ran up my steps at 208 and silently opened the door and shut it behind me. I looked out the window and saw the guy in the light where I had turned. He looked confused and continued down the alley to the next street. The sound of his laugh and his cleats still sticks with me. Billie was my best friend for a year. We went for walks with his schipperke Dr Seabrook. 208 W. Pleasant St. had been built before 1856 and had been a Chinese brothel, a haven for beatniks and then hippies like me.
February 1st, 2024 - 1:53 PM
RESPONSE TO COMMENT BY Linda Tochterman POSTED JANUARY 31st 2024:
Thanks for your nice anecdote relative to Martick’s Restaurant Français in 1972. I believe the building still exists on W. Mulberry St. (between Park Ave. and Howard St.) but the block is pretty much run-down and the neighborhood, somewhat dicey — as it was back in the 1970s.
What is Pleasant St. like these days? Do you still live there?