This Classic Maryland Steakhouse Serves Creamed Spinach Worth The Drive
Nestled in the historic district of Eastport sits a Maryland dining institution that’s been serving up sizzling steaks since 1921.
What keeps me coming back, though, isn’t just the perfectly aged beef – it’s their legendary creamed spinach that has me willingly making the two-hour drive from Baltimore.
This velvety side dish has achieved cult status among locals and food enthusiasts alike, transforming a simple vegetable into something truly extraordinary.
1. A Timeless Maryland Dining Gem In The Heart Of Eastport

The first time I walked into Eastport Steakhouse, I felt like I’d stepped through a time portal. Red leather booths, dim lighting from brass fixtures, and wood-paneled walls create an atmosphere that hasn’t changed much in nearly a century.
Family-owned for four generations, this place holds more memories than the local library. The current owner, Frank Chesapeake (everyone calls him ‘Captain Frank’), still uses his grandfather’s original recipes.
What strikes me most is how the restaurant balances nostalgia with relevance. While newer establishments come and go with trending food fads, Eastport has maintained its character through prohibition, economic downturns, and changing culinary landscapes. Some regulars have been dining here weekly for over 50 years!
2. The Legendary Creamed Spinach That Steals The Show

Holy creamed greens, Batman! This spinach could make Popeye weep tears of joy. The recipe remains a closely guarded secret, but my taste buds detect hints of nutmeg, aged parmesan, and perhaps a splash of sherry.
Unlike many restaurant versions that arrive as a sad, watery puddle, Eastport’s creation maintains perfect consistency – velvety and substantial without being gluey. The spinach itself retains its vibrant character rather than disappearing into the cream.
Rumor has it that celebrities and politicians have attempted to bribe the kitchen staff for the recipe. One regular customer confessed to me that she once pretended to apply for a kitchen position just to glimpse how it’s made! Captain Frank claims the secret ingredient is simply “Maryland love,” but I suspect there’s something more to this green gold.
3. Prime, Dry-Aged Steaks Cooked To Perfection

My carnivorous heart skips a beat whenever that 24-ounce porterhouse arrives at the table. Eastport sources their beef from a small network of farms in Western Maryland, where cattle graze on sweet grasses that impart a distinctive flavor profile.
Each cut ages in-house for a minimum of 28 days in a temperature-controlled room lined with Himalayan salt blocks. The aging process concentrates the flavor and tenderizes the meat naturally. Their grill master, Hank (who’s been there 35 years), uses a combination of oak and hickory wood to create the perfect char.
What truly sets these steaks apart is their restraint with seasoning. Just sea salt and freshly cracked pepper let the beef’s natural flavor shine. No fancy rubs or overpowering sauces – just meat in its purest, most glorious form.
4. An Atmosphere Where Tradition Meets Comfort

Laughter erupts from the corner table where the Friday night regulars gather. They’ve been meeting here since the 70s, and the waitstaff knows exactly how each likes their Manhattan prepared.
The walls tell stories through decades of photographs – local fishing tournaments, visiting celebrities, and generations of families celebrating milestones. My favorite spot is booth #7, tucked away near the fireplace that crackles cheerfully during winter months.
Unlike trendy restaurants with their forced industrial aesthetics, nothing here feels contrived. The slightly uneven floors, the brass coat hooks worn smooth from use, and the subtle scent of aged wood and grilling meat create an authenticity that can’t be manufactured. When I bring first-timers, they invariably lean in and whisper, “This place feels like coming home.”
5. Service With Decades Of Experience And Warmth

Martha, my favorite server, remembers not just my usual order but also asks about my daughter’s college applications. She’s been working here for 32 years and moves through the dining room with balletic efficiency.
The staff operates with a refreshing absence of pretension. When I once asked about wine pairing, instead of a rehearsed speech about tannins and notes, the sommelier simply said, “This one tastes like Maryland in autumn – try it.” He was spot on.
What impresses me most is how they make everyone feel like a regular. I’ve watched them welcome tourists in shorts alongside senators in suits with equal warmth. Captain Frank still visits each table personally on weekend nights, sharing stories about the restaurant’s history or the local watermen who supply their seafood. This human connection is increasingly rare in today’s dining landscape.
