Maybe you're one of those people who think suffering is a form of celebration, who believe that the finest way to dine is by spending something north of $80 a head to sit at an overstarched tablecloth and get browbeaten by an army of waiters. If so, you should probably be reading some other publication's Best of Baltimore issue. On our own special occasions we want to feel good. We want to feel like ourselves, only more so--more presentable, happier, and better fed. Nowhere do we feel more elegantly at ease than in the dining room of the Helmand. The lighting is lowish and warm, not murky; things sparkle and glint; the noise level hums along somewhere above a dead hush and below a clatter. At a table for two, the room feels close and romantic. At a table for 10, it's suited to comfortable chatting. None of this would mean anything if the food weren't excellent. But it is: fragrant, varied, luxurious. Share the roasted baby pumpkin. Linger over tender chunks of lamb. The menu brings everyone together: vegetarians and meat eaters (see "Best Restaurant for Vegetarians"), nibblers and gourmands. Close out the evening with Afghani custard topped with fresh fruit, or ice cream made on the premises. It's your day.

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