The wine bar 13.5%—named for an alcohol content common in wine—opened in Hampden to a collective sigh of recognition. It's sophisticated, without too much pretension, and provides a lauded alternative to neighboring bars. Its fraternal twin, Silo.5%—the name a riff on both its location and its antecedent—may give the impression that the Hampden locale was merely a warm-up. Silo Point, the modern-industrial condo built within the carcass of a grain elevator, is the perfect backdrop for the wine bar's modern décor of exposed duct work, stacked slate brick walls, and black pleather couches and cube-shaped ottomans. Glass exterior walls reveal views of the harbor and of a cement courtyard, its soaring support beams and oversized rattan furniture promising convivial gatherings in warmer weather.

There's also the wall of wine, from which any of 200 bottles can be chosen and uncorked, as well as a reasonably priced list of about thirty wines by the bottle or the glass. And while the wine is meant to be the focal point of the place, the food is decidedly worth a visit. The chef, Robert Blake, has put together a pleasing mix of tapas, pizzas, and a handful of entrees. The choices, dominated by starters and small plates, are nicely calibrated to a range of cravings—be it a minimalist nibbling of cheese (with a flight of Pinot Noir) or a multi-course meal featuring New York strip (with a brisk Argentinian Malbec or a hearty California Cab).

Blake's sleight of hand is evident in a risotto special scattered with tender chunks of lobster and infused with lemon oil, with dabs of sweet soy (easily mistaken for molasses) on each corner of the small square plate. The forest mushroom fondue is heartier and made for sharing, with creamy manchego cheese, meaty mushrooms, and a heap of crostini. The chef occasionally rummages in the wine cellar or bar to embellish a dish, but this is done without fanfare—the seared sea scallops, for example, are draped with succulent strips of fennel braised in Chardonnay and sweetened with tarragon-tinged beurre blanc. And the brisket, a small hunk of Kobe beef, is served with a reduction of merlot. It's a jewel of a dish, nestled in creamy polenta with slivers of cippolini onion, meat that doesn't even need a fork for cutting, so tender you can practically slice it with your eyes.

Desserts are minimal, but the crème brulée is not to be missed—a creamy custard beneath a solid sheet of torched sugar with just the right hint of char.

At the Hampden wine bar, accent colors are orange; at Silo, the bar stools and signage are lime green, reminiscent of Marimekko prints and frog decals from the 1960s. If the two are indeed siblings, Silo may be the favored twin, sent to an elite boarding school with well-heeled patrons, while the north Baltimore brother remains in its low-ceilinged but familial home.