Chef David Zamudio expected the remodel of Josefina, his first solo restaurant, to take between three and six months.

His reputation as the former James Beard-nominated chef of Station North’s Alma Cocina Latina garnered attention for his proposed Harbor Point eatery. Press echoed his promise to “transport guests to the south of Spain.” He found investors, a staff he believed in and an accommodating landlord.

But it took more than a year for Zamudio to get the permit he needed to be able to open his restaurant. And he’s not alone.

Dining debuts have been delayed, maintenance requests unmet and construction left to languish as massive backlogs plague Accela, Baltimore’s new virtual system for issuing housing and building permits. Residents and housing advocates fear it is stalling overall business development, despite city officials’ efforts since the launch in February to fix lags.

“The permitting process should encourage people to invest in Baltimore. Now it discourages that,” said a restaurateur with more than a decade of experience running eateries here.

He declined to be named out of concern it will affect the rollout of his new restaurant, which remains in the early stages of permit review. He described Accela as “more cumbersome in every way” — posing a further threat to the local restaurant industry just as it ascends to new heights.

Baltimore’s become an increasingly popular food destination. The city has garnered national attention for glowing New York Times reviews, viral food sensations and a win at this year’s most prestigious industrywide competition.

It’s what inspired Zamudio to stay here after working in restaurants in Spain and Washington, D.C. He spent $20,000 of his own money to pay people to help expedite the permits he needed, including the construction permit he applied for last fall that was issued late last month.

Ekiben owner Steve Chu, whose eateries have received national acclaim, said his August Night Market event also ran into permitting issues under the new system. The sold-out affair bringing together chefs from across the country for one evening in Baltimore was unable to get permission from the city to pitch their cooking tents until City Council President Zeke Cohen intervened.

“It should not require a City Council member or president to move a permit,” Cohen said. “Baltimore is having this incredible culinary moment. If we’re not able to issue permits quickly in a way that is transparent and fair, that will pose a real problem.”

Cohen said Accela was pitched as an online one-stop shop for tracking and submitting permit applications. The platform is used in municipalities across the country, including New York City and Washington, D.C. In Denver, the review period for permits was cut in half when the mayor combined Accela’s launch with the creation of a central permitting office, an advisory group and the promise of returned fees up to $10,000 if permits weren’t approved within a certain timeline.

But that didn’t happen in Baltimore.

When the system went live in February, the number of permits issued fell dramatically. By the end of June, the average number of monthly permits issued were lower than they’d been in a decade. The alphabet soup of acronyms is confusing even to experts in the field.

“The rollout was met with some challenges as customers and staff adjusted,” said Justin Williams, Baltimore‘s first director of permitting and development services. The new “permit czar,” a former senior member of Mayor Brandon Scott’s cabinet, said the city has made major improvements and permit activity is rebounding, thanks to the addition of new staff, phone support and hands-on help. System glitches are being fixed and payment routing is improving, he said, and an option to allow third parties to conduct fire department plan reviews, which restaurants often need, has been launched.

Still, people are spending months waiting to hear back about permits, unsure whether their application has an issue or is stuck in the queue, according to Lou Catelli, who for the last decade has made a business out of helping people navigate Baltimore bureaucracy.

He said restaurants are particularly hurting because of a state law that requires owners to use a liquor license that has been transferred to them within nine months — which includes an extension — or risk losing it. Within that period, they need to get the construction permits necessary to open.

But attorneys and business owners at liquor board hearings say permit delays are affecting their ability to secure licenses, alleging actions that used to take minutes stretch over days.

“It’s terrifying when you have these $200,000 to $300,000 liquor licenses on the line and the paperwork just does not move through the way it was moving last year,” Catelli said.

“If I was 66 — 10 years older — when they revamped this system, I think I’d go and retire,” said Stephan Fogleman, an attorney who has spent his career helping restaurants with permits and liquor licenses.

He has seen the city’s permitting office migrate their data to an online platform and persevere through COVID-19, but has yet to see dysfunction like this, he said.

You can’t directly message city staff on the platform to ask questions or get updates. Communication over issues is sparse and sometimes applications can circle back to the same reviewer multiple times. Although it’s a virtual system, the physical permit office has been standing room only, filled with people trying to understand what’s going on, Fogleman said. Meanwhile, businesses are expected to pay rent and manage their personal expenses as they wait.

Fogleman said that he has had clients get so overwhelmed by the new system that they give up on the process all together.

Owner Kora Polydore of Kora Lee’s Gourmet Cafe has considered doing the same.

Unlike other restaurateurs, Polydore doesn’t have the money to hire permit expediters, spend hours on end in the permit office or carry a reputation that would lead to public outrage if her business were to close. She moved her cafe from Catonsville to Greenmount after winning a contest that promised her a year of free rent and resources to grow the business. But her store has now been closed over a year and she’s spent the last two months trying to apply for a use and occupancy permit.

Diana Emerson, executive director of Waverly Main Street, an organization that has supported Polydore and other business owners trying to open in the neighborhood, said even permits for minor repairs are bogging down business owners trying to bring services to her community.

“I appreciate all the hard work our city agencies are doing,” Emerson said, “but there’s a disconnect here.”