Written By Jim Burger
It is a cold night outside the Martin’s Westminster, but inside the atmosphere is warm and bright. Three hundred and eighty employees of the General Dynamics Robotics Systems have gathered there for their annual holiday party. The facility is a cornerstone in an empire built by catering giant Martin Resnick. And in typical Martin’s fashion it is a lavish and elegant affair befitting the season. Many couples are in tuxedoes and floor-length gowns.
“It’s their ninth year with us,” said Robert Lazarus, the assistant general manager, as he surveys a steaming dish of crab cakes on the buffet table. By evening’s end the group will consume over 350 of themÉ and twice that many Italian meatballs.
The waiters are twirling around every corner of the room gracefully serving the six hot hors d’oeuvres. The mini-cheeseburgers are especially prized, and as the waiters’ trays run low they return to the kitchen where chef Art Zapf and assistant chef Stu Dolle keep the food coming. The duo’s 31 years of experience with Martin’s allow them to keep up easily with the guests’ appetites.
Two hundred and fifty chicken breasts are already in the ovens along with the first of the 65 pounds of prime rib and 40 pounds of roast turkey that will be served on the party night.
Martin’s vice presidents, Billy Fisher and Joe Lanza, move through the crowd. It is a team effort as they help Lazarus supervise the 14 wait staff, four hall attendants, and four bartenders. The operation is a perfect whirlwind of activity, and no detail is overlooked.
The precision is a happy side benefit of a loyal and stable staff working well together. Martin’s’ servers average 14 years of service and cooks average 20 years. Martin’s Westminster has anchored the 140 Village Shopping Center for 35 years, and Lazarus has been there for all but two of them. He remembers the beginning.
“Marty wanted to expand the operation and was looking at two locations: Glen Burnie and Westminster,” said Lazarus. “Finally he decided on Westminster because he wanted to grow with the community.”
Resnick was right. Martin’s Westminster is the county’s largest catering facility.
General Dynamics is a hungry and festive crowd. They cheer as their vice president of Robotic Systems, Philip Cory, stands at the microphone and congratulates the group on a stellar year, and cheer even louder when he announces that dinner is served. Two carving stations feed the guests in short order, and Lazarus moves from table to table reminding everyone to save room for the six or seven desserts that will soon be presented.
“That’s the Martin’s way,” he explains. “We don’t just serve one piece of cake to finish a meal. Marty wants everyone to try a little bit of everything.”
Later the lights dim and Westminster’s own classic rock band Cry Wolf begins to tune up. When the music starts the dance floor quickly fills with joyous, well-fed people.
Marty Resnick’s motto is “Every day is a happy occasion.” Tiombe Paige, General Dynamic’s event coordinator, could not agree more. She stands near the stage smiling broadly and sums up the evening: “We’re very happy. That’s why we keep coming back year after year.”
And beyond Westminster, the Martin’s kingdom stretches across Maryland – from the verdant fields of Frederick County to the bustling suburbs of our nation’s capital. Its holdings include a mansion in Hunt Valley, a palace aptly named “Camelot,” and a Greek revivalist temple towering over the Baltimore beltway. It is an empire built from honey glazed ham and pit beef, set upon pilings of three-bean salad and cole slaw.
For 44 years, Marylanders have made their way to Martin’s when they have wanted to party, toast the New Year, or have a reception for a wedding, Bar Mitzvah, or Sweet 16. They have come to raise funds for leagues: civic, bowling, and of women voters. They have come to crack crabs and jokes, and roast pigs as well as politicians.
By now it seems as if everyone in the Free State has been to a Martin’s. Hardly unreasonable. Imagine this scenario: If all seven of the Martin’s properties were filled to capacity at the same time, it would be like calling all the residents of Aberdeen and Rock Hall, Maryland, and inviting them over for dinner. Too esoteric? Try this one: Picture the Baltimore Arena packed to the rafters for a concert. Now add 1,000 more people. It is numbers like those that have cemented Martin Resnick’s reputation in Baltimore lore, and now his son Wayne’s, and woven their name into the very fabric of Maryland. They will do 3,500 events across the company this year, and 70 percent of that will be repeat business.
And all of it sprang from the most humble of beginnings. In 1964, Baltimore-born Marty Resnick had it made. He was 32 years old, the son of a deli owner, working as a clothing purchaser for Baltimore’s Hecht Company and traveling to New York every other week on buying trips. He had also saved $19,000 to invest in a little side business. His idea was to build a catering facility, and let someone else do the catering; a sound business plan considering he did not know how to cook.
He constructed Eudowood Gardens in Towson, with two banquet rooms, two bars, and some bathrooms. But his vision clashed with the public’s demands.
“I spent most of my time on the phone explaining that I wasn’t a caterer,” he recalled. “Finally I just decided to do it all myself.” His wife and his mother did the cooking, and he freely admits that without them he would not be in business. Resnick quit the Hecht Company and never looked back. And Marylanders have been eating very well ever since.
Carroll County’s roots with Martin’s run deep. Food broker Corynne Courpas sat recently at a round table in the packed grand ballroom of Martin’s West. The Resnicks often purchase a table at events held at the site, and she was invited as their guest. It is a perk for keeping the stockroom shelves filled.
Between bites of salad and sips of wine she extolled the virtues of her benefactors. Courpas, a 20-year veteran of PFG Carroll County Foods, has been handling the Martin’s account for 12 years. Mostly spices, groceries, and dry goods. Out of habit she reached for a packet of sugar, carefully examined it, and was relieved to see the PFG imprint.
“Nothing,” she said, “is more embarrassing than going out to a place we service and seeing a competitor’s sugar.”
Courpas’ dedication lies close to the surface. Late one afternoon in 2001 she got word that PFG had inadvertently shorted an order of muffins for Martin’s East. She loaded up a truck with supplies and drove from her office in New Windsor to the Pulaski Highway facility, and promptly smashed the vehicle into the entrance of the newly renovated building.
“I thought Martin’s was going to fire me,” she said. But instead they gained a staunch ally. “The next day Wayne Resnick sent me a fruit basket,” said Courpas. Then she stared suspiciously at the pats of butter on a plate in the middle of the table and muttered, “Those aren’t ours.”
