Though the tradition goes back thousands of years in China, hot pot has evaded Baltimore until very recently. While restaurants serving it have opened in the suburbs — New Generation Hot Pot in Towson, Urban Hot Pot in Columbia, Hot Pot King in Catonsville and Hot Pot Hero in Ellicott City, just to name a few — none, to my knowledge, came within city limits before the arrival of Broadway Hotpot & Bar a few weeks ago.

The business, which is in the former DogWatch Tavern space, was first set to launch in 2023. Hot pot fans have been monitoring its progress for two years, with regular check-ins on the Baltimore subreddit. “Why is it not possible to get hot pot in Baltimore 😭,” a user wrote nine months ago.

Their wait is over. I went for lunch with my co-worker Ruby Yuan, who had been closely following the eatery’s soft-opening stage and had already stopped by once. I, on the other hand, have an embarrassing confession to make: While I love Chinese food, and even lived in China as a kid, I had never tried hot pot before.

Listening to Ruby chat with an employee in Mandarin, I felt panic strike. I had no idea what to do.

Fortunately, my co-worker wasn’t phased and walked me through lunch with the patience I try to demonstrate toward small children. A QR code on the table brought up a menu and ordering system. We each used our phones to choose our preferred broths; the system automatically added both to the same order. (The future is now!) A few minutes later, a server stopped by our table with a metal cart and a saucepan, pouring liquid into the individual electric heater systems in front of us to bubble.

I felt comforted when another lady at the next table began pestering Ruby for advice. How was she supposed to eat the broth, she asked him, when she hadn’t been given a spoon? Ruby, who should really start charging for these consultations, explained a central tenet of hot pot: It’s about the broth, but it’s really not about the broth. Which is to say, the broth, while delicious, is mainly a vehicle for cooking meat and other stuff. (The spicy options, in particular, are not meant to be sipped on their own.) Should you run out of broth, a server will offer to add some hot water.

Aside from me and Ruby, clientele seemed mostly to be young people from China savoring the chance to share a favorite meal from home. A few groups we approached declined to speak with us, saying they had been advised not to speak with Western media. In Chongqing, China, where manager Wes Li is originally from, hot pot is especially popular — both eaten as a street food and at home. “We eat hot pot every day,” he said.

Our lunch orders came with unlimited servings of freshly sliced raw meat, so we used our phones to select the proteins we wanted. (Customers with bougier tastes can select premium upgrades like wagyu beef and snow crab legs.) Next, Ruby led me to a buffet area where we could pick up trays of vegetables as well as noodles, quail eggs, scallops, crayfish and other shellfish options. A menu advertises frog legs, but I didn’t see any during my visit.

At the nearby sauce station, I mimicked Ruby’s every move, dishing into a bowl spoonfuls of peanut butter and sesame sauce, a favorite flavor in his hometown of Wuhan, China. He topped the mixture with crushed peanuts, minced garlic and chives. A board on the wall also offers various combination “recipes” customers can try out depending on their tastes. Should you save room for dessert, there’s a dessert station with ice cream, cake and fruit slices.

Back at my seat, I asked Ruby how long I should dunk each item in the broth. Should I just wait until it looked done? On our way out, a manager offered a cheat sheet: Cook raw seafood for four minutes or more, while the thinly sliced beef just needs about 30 seconds in boiling soup. Veggies should stay in for about three minutes before being scooped out with the slotted spoon provided. Once your item is cooked, toss it in condiments and enjoy. (The sheet also warns that customers may be fined for “excessive food waste,” so keep that in mind when you’re loading up at the buffet line.)

To Ruby, the beauty of hot pot is how personalized it can be. Don’t eat seafood but dining with someone who does? You can have both. In a hurry? No problem, you can be out of here in 20 minutes. Want to stay for hours? Also totally cool. There’s no wrong way to do it, he assured me. But as we finished our meal, and I glanced down at my broth-splattered shirt, I was pretty sure I’d found a way.