Review: The Duchess Reigns in Hampden

In 2019, as Denise Whiting thought about closing Cafe Hon, she approached restaurateur Tony Foreman to see if he knew of anyone who might be interested in opening in the iconic space on Hampden’s 36th Street.

After giving it some thought, he said he did know someone—himself.

“That is literally the best corner in Hampden,” he recalls thinking. “And my thoughts started percolating about how this particular corner was important for the community, not just the neighborhood.”

Even a great location, however, could not prevent terrible timing. Just as plans were formulating, the pandemic hit, and the project was put on hold. By 2022, demolition finally began as Foreman continued to think about reimagining the former diner space known for its 30-foot-tall pink flamingo.

“When I saw that corner, what was in my head is that I love an English public house where the space manages to be very comfortable and worn-in at the same time,” says Foreman. “But a public house has nothing to do with being English. It has to do with a place where people get together and life happens.”

Just as Foreman signed the lease, another curveball was thrown. An ongoing congenital heart problem required a life-changing heart-kidney double-organ transplant and put the project in peril. So, when the pub, dubbed The Duchess (a sly wink to Baltimore’s divorcée duchess Wallis Simpson), finally opened in early December, Foreman had reason to rejoice.

The Duchess is a pub, but don’t expect shepherd’s pie or Yorkshire pudding here. Rather than serve traditional pub grub, Foreman hired longtime Foreman Wolf chef Kiko Fejarang, a native of Guam, to be his partner and cook the Pacific Rim cuisine of her heritage.

“The Duchess is an homage to where I grew up,” explains Fejarang (her hometown cuisine is known as Chamorro and her nickname came from Kikkoman soy sauce—her birth-given name is Cherese). “Guam is similar to Hawaii in that it’s a tropical island with a melting pot of Asian flavors, including Filipino, Japanese, Korean, and even some Spanish cuisine.”

Whatever the provenance of the place, The Duchess is a true original, fitting right into quirky Hampden with its playful yet polished vibe, thanks to handmade ceramics from Surrey, England, and various other pieces imported from across the pond, including mix-and-match tables and Windsor chairs.

One side of the space is a lively bar with oak booths, a purplish marble bar, and TVs for watching British soccer games. The other side is a dining room with a long communal table, private nooks, window-side seats that overlook The Avenue, and a small stage for live music several nights a week.

Wherever you sit, dining here provides a much-needed sense of kinship and community. On one visit, Foreman got the dining room to join in a rollicking round of “Happy Birthday” for a patron. On another, the bar was crammed with patrons intently watching a football game, as well as Christmas revelers who stopped by for a quick umbrella tiki drink en route to see Hampden’s annual light display.

Every plate is festive and fun and mirrors the mood. And sharing is not only encouraged, but practically compulsory. In fact, The Duchess works best when you go with a crowd and try a forkful of everything.

The menu of shareable snacks starts with garlic-chile cucumber salad dressed in chile oil and ends with Asian-style Typhoon fries sprinkled with furikake (a Japanese condiment consisting of seaweed, sesame seeds, and sugar).

In between is a pleasingly umami-leaning stir-fried lotus root bathed in black truffle sesame vinaigrette with ribbons of bok choy; sushi-grade ahi tuna poke glistening with spicy soy vinaigrette and served with crisp wonton chips; crimson-colored, ginger-scented beets showered with chile roasted peanuts; and a delectable ceviche-style bowl of shrimp kelaguen with a kick of Thai pepper served with flat, doughy discs known as tatiyas (a cross between bread and a flour tortilla).

And while the plates are mostly small—three or more will make a meal, depending on your hunger level—the flavors are bold. To wit: smoky barbecued chicken marinated for 24 hours and served on skewers and a standout rendition of Spam musubi, Hawaii’s signature sushi-style snack, containing a slab of the pork product and pillow of sushi rice, wrapped in nori, lacquered with soy glaze and pressed to perfection.

The end of the menu features four to five items that are listed as “More Than a Snack,” though they’re anything but an afterthought. While we focused on the shareable snacks, we loved the fish-’n-chips, a generous hunk of impossibly crisp, tempura-fried hake served with yuzu tartar sauce and waffle fries sprinkled with furikake. (I have my eye on the donburi rice bowl with grilled duck for my next outing.)

As you finish your meal, consider at least one order of coconut shave ice (Hawaii’s answer to a Baltimore snowball) to cleanse your palate and sate your sweet tooth.

As you’d expect from a Tony Foreman project, hospitality points run high. Servers were attentive but unobtrusive, helping to interpret unfamiliar ingredients as runners cleared the collection of small plates to make way for new ones in their place. Bonus points for the $10 valet parking that gets automatically added to the bill for convenience. By the time you make your way to the curb, your car will magically appear.

In other words, the wait was worth it. The Duchess rules—long may she reign.