Baltimore didn’t whisper its cravings in 2025.

This was the year the city leaned into stacked sandwiches without shame, bargain meals that felt like small victories, crab dip in both its classic and fully unhinged eras, and food so good it traveled faster through group chats than any formal recommendation ever could.

Across months of reporting — and more meals than any reasonable person should admit — the same themes kept resurfacing. Not trends invented online, but habits formed at tables, counters, bar stools and parking lots across the city.

Consider this Baltimore’s year-end rewind.

Most replayed: Sandwiches (loud, stacked, unapologetic)

The year 2025 belonged to the sandwich — but not the tidy, forgettable kind. At Animal Boy, the SoHa arrived piled high on marble rye, leaning fully into deli maximalism with zero interest in restraint. It was messy, indulgent and clearly built for people who take sandwiches seriously.

Bank Street Deli proved Baltimore will always reward chaos done right: a bodega-meets-bar stocked with life essentials, a speakeasy hidden behind a vending machine, and a sandwich counter cranking out Reubens, chicken parms, chopped cheese and clubs — plus the ability to order while playing pickleball next door, because of course.

For the purists, Subplicity kept things disciplined. The Hot Italian — stacked with cured meats and dressed exactly the way it should be — was a reminder that when a sub is done right, nothing else is required.

Breakout theme: Value eating (bargain bites + loophole happy hours)

Baltimore didn’t eat cheap in 2025 — it ate smart. Amicci’s quietly ran one of the city’s most dependable deals: $20 for a three-course Italian meal (carryout only), complete with salad, entrée, and dessert. It was red-sauce comfort food designed for sweatpants and zero second thoughts.

When portions mattered, Poyoteca delivered a half chicken plus two sides that genuinely fed two people, with aji amarillo and jalapeño sauces doing the heavy lifting.

On the burger front, Of Love & Regret dropped a $5 happy-hour burger that felt like a typo, while The Ruxton gave Harbor East a loophole: a dry-aged steakhouse burger for $10 during happy hour that made luxury feel briefly attainable.

Unexpected star: Gas station greatness

2025 was the year Baltimore — and the rest of Maryland — stopped pretending gas station food was ironic.

Inside an Exxon in Annapolis, Taqueria El Cabrito turned out birria tacos dripping with consommé that were absolutely worth rerouting your drive.

At a BP in Gambrills, Royal Kabab served butter chicken, goat biryani, and pillowy garlic naan that had no business being that good at a fuel stop.

And in Ocean City, Oceans Market built a cult following around hot, fresh donuts — especially the cinnamon-sugar Sand Dollar — proving that sometimes the best bite of a trip happens in a parking lot.

Cultural icon: The chicken box

The Baltimore chicken box didn’t trend in 2025 — it endured.

From Park’s Fried Chicken near Lexington Market (where my face ended up on their billboard) to Sunny’s Subs in Northeast Baltimore, the formula stayed sacred: crispy wings, seasoned fries, ketchup and hot sauce applied with confidence.

At Super Fried Chicken inside Lexington Market, the line was proof enough. Chicken boxes weren’t just meals — they were routine, ritual and comfort wrapped in Styrofoam.

Forever headliner: Crab dip, in all its forms

Crab dip remained Baltimore’s most reliable crowd-pleaser — but 2025 gave it range.

On the traditional end, Mama’s on the Half Shell and L.P. Steamers kept things classic: creamy, lump-heavy, built for sharing and deeply Maryland.

Then things got playful. Sunnyside Cafe stuffed crab dip into a croissant and finished it with a honey Old Bay garlic glaze, while Blue Moon, Too turned brunch upside down with crab dip French toast crusted in Utz crab chips.

At True Chesapeake Oyster Co., crab dip went fine-dining luxe with bone marrow and pickled shallots — proof the icon could dress up without losing its soul.

Big night out move: Food towers

When Baltimore wanted to celebrate in 2025, it didn’t nibble — it stacked.

Food towers became shorthand for a certain kind of night out: not casual, not fussy, and very much a group decision. These weren’t meals you ordered quietly. They were statements.

At Frank’s Pizza & Pasta, the pasta tower turned dinner into an event. Three tiers of sauced pasta, fried lasagna balls, calamari, burrata with fried eggplant and full-sized Italian subs made it clear this wasn’t about restraint — it was about committing.

Seafood lovers leaned coastal. Thames Street Oyster House’s shellfish tower delivered a full bounty — oysters, clams, shrimp cocktail, lobster claws and tail — the kind of spread that slows the table down whether you planned on it or not.

And when the night called for fun over formality, La Food Marketa answered with a taco tower built for chaos: layered tacos, street corn, queso, taquitos and dips meant to be passed, debated and demolished.

Viral winner: Anything crab + carbs

Some foods went viral in 2025 because they were loud. The ones that lasted did so because they delivered.

The crab dip bagel at Cafe Dear Leon sparked genuine alarm-clock behavior citywide, stuffing creamy cheddar crab dip, sweet corn, Cajun butter and Old Bay into a house-made bagel that sold out fast and launched a wave of copycats.

Then there was Chopped Broadway Bodega, where chopped subs became a full-blown obsession. Sandwiches like the Frank Lucas — hot pastrami, melted provolone and pepper jack, honey mustard, all chopped and pressed into a toasted hero — didn’t just dominate feeds, they backed it up in real life.

And at Oh, Honey on the Bay, the Funky Fish sandwich — fried fish on a Hawaiian bun, drenched in hot honey and paired with crinkle fries — proved that lines form for a reason. It was messy, sweet, spicy and too big for one hand.

Quiet shift: Coffee sent hyperlocal

As Starbucks locations quietly closed around the city, Baltimore didn’t panic — it doubled down on its own.

Common Ground stayed a Hampden anchor with scratch-made food and strong coffee, while Mindpub Cafe leaned into neighborhood comfort with Pfefferkorn-roasted beans and bagels delivered daily.

From the minimalist calm of Sophomore Coffee to matcha-forward moments at Equitea, coffee in 2025 wasn’t just about caffeine — it was about community.

The Wrap: If Baltimore’s 2025 dining year came with a recap card, it would read something like this:

• Most Replayed: Sandwiches
• Breakout Theme: Value eating
• Unexpected Star: Gas station greatness
• Cultural Icon: The chicken box
• Forever Headliner: Crab dip
• Big Night Out Move: Food towers
• Viral Winner: Crab + carbs

After publication, Banner editors became aware that this story was reported by the author but written with substantial assistance from generative artificial intelligence. The Banner has updated its policies to clarify that such programs cannot be used to write bylined stories. To read the Banner’s ethics policy, click here.