With the arrival of immigrants and refugees from Central America, Africa and Asia in recent decades, Baltimore's traditional foodscape has ventured from the continent of Polish pierogi, Greek pastitsio and German schnitzel to those of Korean bul kogi, Mexican tamales and Nigerian fried yam.
The changes are clear in area restaurants, groceries, food stands, farmers' markets and in the streets where competing cooking scents emanate enticingly from rowhouses and other dwellings.
Beginning early next month, Baltimore's growing culinary diversity again takes center stage at the city's annual Showcase of Nations series of ethnic festivals.
For decades, the gastronomic contributions of Baltimore immigrants from Greece, Ireland, the Caribbean, Russia and other lands have drawn throngs eager to sample the delicacies sold by vendors at the weekend festivals, which continue through October.
The festivals are a way of preserving endangered traditions for the descendants of European settlers who have scattered to the suburbs. For more recent emigres, the festivals are a way to introduce newcomers to the inherited foodways they have brought with them. For everyone who participates, the festivals are an affirmation of Baltimore's savory stew of food traditions.
During this season, Taste will highlight a selection of ethnic specialties featured at local festivals in an occasional series of stories.
The Polish Festival, held from June 2-4 in Patterson Park, launches the season. When the festival debuted 33 years ago, most of its planners and guests came from the neighborhood where it took place.
This year, the local Polish diaspora will return to its East Baltimore roots from Annapolis, Owings Mills, White Marsh and Dundalk to feast on pierogi, the pies stuffed with meat, potato and cheese provided by the Holy Cross Polish National Church, and galumpkis, stuffed cabbage.
Visitors to the spirited festival - which drew 10,000 people last year, according to Halina Maliszewski, one of the festival's four organizers - also will gobble snowy mounds of bow-tie pastries called chrusciki. They'll down Polish beer and a cherry cordial called wisnowka, served by the shot.
Today, it's rare to find pierogi or galumpkis served routinely in Polish homes because they're "labor-intensive," says Maliszewski, who grew up in Canton and later moved to Harford County. "My mother didn't work. She made pierogies at least once a week," she says.
