Tucked into the former Joe Benny’s space in Little Italy, Sisu Bar & Bottles has quickly become one of Baltimore’s most beloved new watering holes. Owners Chris Peters and Kate Huffton live next door and run the bar themselves nearly every day. From the reclaimed-wood shelving to the towering shelves of glassware for wine and cocktails to their “whatever mood you’re in” playlists, the space is curated with care, taste, and a deep respect for origin. But don’t expect stuffy formality. “It’s a farmer’s bar, farmer’s bar, farmer’s bar,” Peters says. “We talk more about farmers than anything else.”
Nearly every bottle has a story that Peters or Huffton can tell firsthand, because they’ve met the winemaker, stood in the vineyard, or walked the farm where it was grown. Drinking a glass of Txakoli (pronounced cha-ko-lee) here is akin to traveling to the mountainous hills of Basque Country in Northern Spain where the wine hails from. Traditionally made from the Hondarribi Zuri grape, the light efflorescence hits the tongue with its zesty acidity, but it’s the stories that settle long after the glass empties.
“Almost everything we carry—we’ve either met the producer or physically been there,” Peters explains. They’ve spent ten days in Spain visiting growers, touring biodynamic plots across Europe, logging far more hours with farmers than in Michelin dining rooms.
The wine list here is also organized by flavor category, not grape varietal. Nothing stays on the menu long. “Why rotate the whole menu?” Peters laughs. “Because we don’t like to get bored.” The selections are almost entirely biodynamic, low-intervention, and rotated weekly with the intention of showcasing the farmers, like Sicilian female producer Arianna Occhipinti. You’re likely to see wine distributors like Greg Box from Free Run Wine or Zach Genin from Genin Selections at the bar—business in action as the couple sources the next bottle for their weekly rotation.
“We don’t buy anything we haven’t tasted, unless it’s from someone we trust,” Peter says. “That’s the rule.”
In the middle of sampling wine, when a patron walks in, Peters will shift gears and greet customers by rubbing his belly in exaggerated anticipation. “What are we drinking?” he’ll ask, grinning like an old friend welcoming you to his house. That disarming, lived-in charm is what makes Sisu feel different. It’s animated by the people running it.
When working through their expansion into Maryland, the couple had their sights set on Hampden, drawn to its similarities with Manayunk in Philly, where they used to live. But through a bit of serendipity and a conversation with Dave and Lorrie Richards, they found themselves in Little Italy instead.
The former Joe Benny’s spot was quietly in the process of closing at the time of Peters and Huffton’s search. The space needed only cosmetic work—fresh paint, a new bar, some shelves—not a full-scale overhaul of plumbing or electric work. More importantly, it came with neighbors who felt like family from the start. “We fell into the most perfect spot with the most perfect neighbors,” Huffton beams. “Everyone is so kind and so supportive.”
On any given night, the bar is full of locals, some not even drinking wine but small bottles of coke. As the night I visited progressed, it began to fill with restaurant workers taking shots of Underberg, the quintessential German bitter that bartenders love. “It would’ve been a huge mistake if we went somewhere else,” Huffton reiterates.
With their hyper rotational concept, and the omission of hot foods on the menu, the couple has created a “before and after dinner” vibe, supporting the multitude of Italian restaurants in the area. The cheeses come from local markets like Firefly Farms and Birchrun Hills Farm in Chester Springs, Pennsylvania. Huffton also uses her deep industry connection, sourcing European cheeses via a former chef she worked with who grants her access to importers from New York City. The meat is sliced by hand behind the bar. The charcuterie boards are plated on vintage china sourced from their mothers’ basements. The espresso machine shares counter space with a lineup of small-batch vermouths and a kid-sized gelato station, run enthusiastically by Peters’ 10-year-old son, Axl.
“We’re showcasing what other people have already done well,” Huffton adds. “Our job is just to curate it, plate it beautifully, and share the story.”
Even the beer tap system is personal. It’s built into a WWII foot locker Peters found at Second Chance and rigged himself. The bar’s woodwork comes from his business partner’s family land. The photos on the wall are actual family photos. It’s all intentionally intimate. The bar may look like it belongs in a Michelin guide, but the energy is the exact opposite of fussy.
Despite their humility and reverence for the farmers making wine, Sisu is no amateur affair. Peters previously ran the beverage program at Teresa’s Next Door in Philly, which earned a James Beard nomination under his leadership in 2018.
“The owner called me and goes, ‘What the hell did you do?’” Peters recalls taking the call standing in the shower, running on four hours of sleep after working a 110-hour week. “I genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. He goes, ‘You got us nominated for a James Beard.’ I was like, what the hell is a James Beard Award? I had to Google it.”
For the couple, accolades take backseat to authenticity. As Huffton puts it, “We’re not striving for that. We just love what we do.”
“We literally call it our living room,” Peters adds. “You’re drinking in our living room. We wake up, and we come here. We’re here all day.”
If you’re lucky, Axl will hand you a spoonful of his favorite gelato while you sip an unfiltered rosé from a producer the owners can tell you a story about. And suddenly, you’ll realize: this isn’t just a bar. It’s a philosophy. It’s a home. And yes—it’s a farmer’s bar.
