At Water’s Edge Cafe, Charm and Crab Reign Supreme

RESTAURANT REVIEW

CRISFIELD, Md. — Not every great meal requires white tablecloths, sommeliers, or a soundtrack of softly tinkling piano. Sometimes, all you need is a well-worn wooden table, a view of the Chesapeake Bay, and a kitchen that knows exactly what it’s doing. At Water’s Edge Cafe, a humble, no-frills eatery perched on the water in this sleepy Eastern Shore town, the mission is simple: serve honest, delicious food without a shred of pretension. And by that measure, it succeeds spectacularly.

Forget about chandeliers or artfully arranged amuse-bouches—this is a place where the ceiling fans might predate the Reagan administration, where the decor leans more toward “cozy dockside shack” than “design magazine spread.” But what it lacks in polish, it more than makes up for in flavor, hospitality, and sheer uncomplicated joy.

The star here is the seafood, as it should be in a town that bills itself as the “Crab Capital of the World.” My companion opted for the Crab Imperial, a dish so pure in its devotion to lump crab that it feels almost revelatory. Unlike its more structured cousin, the crab cake, this version is luxuriously loose, bound only by a whisper of imperial sauce—no filler, no fuss, just sweet, briny crab in its most unadulterated form. It arrived alongside rustic skin-on mashed potatoes and southern-style mac and cheese, both hearty and unpretentious, the kind of sides that demand a second (or third) forkful.

I went with the fried flounder, a golden, crispy-edged specimen that shatters at the touch of a fork to reveal pearlescent, moist flesh beneath. The fries were hot and salty, the cole slaw bright and tangy—no culinary pyrotechnics, just textbook execution. Even the service, delivered by our attentive and knowledgeable server, Cameron, was effortlessly warm, the kind of hospitality that feels rare in an era of over-orchestrated dining.

And then there’s the price: under $40 for two entrees and sides, a near-miraculous value in an age where a single cocktail in Manhattan can cost more.

Water’s Edge Cafe isn’t trying to be anything other than what it is—a place where good food, friendly faces, and the lapping of bay waves against the dock are the only luxuries you need. If you find yourself on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, skip the fuss and head straight here. Just don’t blame me if you start plotting a return trip before the last bite is gone.

Rating: ★★★★☆ (Excellent)
Water’s Edge Cafe — 1108 W Main St Crisfield, MD, United States, Maryland 21817 | (667) 868-4100 | No Reservations, No Pretenses

A Taste of Persia in Brooklyn: Sofreh Shines with Masterful Persian Cuisine

RESTAURANT REVIEW

BROOKLYN, NY — As a Philadelphian raised on the holy trinity of Angelo’s cheesesteaks, Tony Luke’s roast pork, and the comforting embrace of melted Cooper Sharp, I rarely venture beyond the familiar. But when a trusted friend insisted on a trip to Sofreh, the celebrated Persian restaurant in Prospect Heights, I surrendered to curiosity—and left utterly enchanted.

Helmed by James Beard-nominated chef Nasim Alikhani, Sofreh is a revelation, a place where the soul of Iranian cooking is rendered with both reverence and artistry. The space itself is understated yet warm—high ceilings, black wood beams, a marble bar glowing under soft light. Reservations are fiercely sought after (book weeks ahead), yet the staff makes every guest feel like family. Before I could introduce myself, the host greeted me by name: “Delgreco, we look forward to serving you.” Such grace sets the tone for the evening.

We began with the Eggplant and Whey Dip, a lush, smoky spread crowned with crispy onions and drizzled with mint oil. But the true showstopper was the Barbari bread, a Persian flatbread so pillowy, so perfectly blistered, that it could single-handedly justify the trip. Tearing into its warm, sesame-studded crust, I understood why bread is sacred here.


For the main act, my friend chose the Dried Lime & Herb Beef Stew, a deep, tangy marvel of braised beef, kidney beans, and citrusy Persian limes. But my heart—and appetite—belonged to the Lamb Shank, a dish so sublime it bordered on spiritual. The meat, braised until it surrendered to the slightest nudge of a fork, swam in a fragrant broth of dill and dried lime, each spoonful a symphony of warmth and spice. Paired with saffron-kissed rice, the lamb was butter-soft, its richness cut by the bright, herbal notes of the broth. This wasn’t just dinner; it was an epiphany.

Sofreh doesn’t just serve food—it offers an education in Persian hospitality, where every detail, from the minimalist decor (a canvas for the vibrant dishes) to the impeccable service, feels intentional. As I left, already plotting my next visit (perhaps before a Nets game at Barclays?), I realized Sofreh had done the impossible: made a Philly guy forget about cheesesteaks, if only for one glorious night.

Rating: ★★★★☆ (Exceptional)
Sofreh — 75 St. Marks Ave, Brooklyn, NY | http://www.sofrehnyc.com | Reservations Essential