It's lunch hour at the Pennsylvania Dutch Market in Cockeysville, and as a hundred or so people tuck into their midday meals at a cluster of picnic tables, Joe Smetana settles into his favorite seat with his turkey burger and salad.

The Baltimore County retiree is here, as he is every Friday, for lunch with friends from church. And he sees the experience as more than just an event on his weekly calendar — it's a chance for Smetana to revel in the kind of small pleasures that make life worth living.

“The food is outstanding — fresh — they make it right there and give you a lot of it,” he says with a hand gesture toward the bustling scene. “I can sit here and talk with friends for as long as I want, including the wonderful people who work here. I wouldn't trade these times for anything.”

Smetana, 76, has been meeting his fellow seniors at the market — a 35,000-square-foot warehouse that features a wide range of vendors (most of them Amish) and draws thousands of customers three days a week — on a regular basis almost since it opened on York Road 11 years ago.

One of a half-dozen similar indoor markets within an hour's drive of Baltimore, the Pennsylvania Dutch Market is the only such operation in Baltimore County.

It's open only Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays most of the year; the schedule allows vendors to concentrate labor costs and spend more time at home, and Amish people never work Sundays.

Many who frequent the place mention two qualities that keep them coming back: a broad selection of quality goods that can be hard to find anywhere else, let alone under one roof, and a reliably family-friendly atmosphere.

“The Amish people here aren't just very industrious, they're very down-to-earth,” says Bob Cofiell of Cockeysville, 83, a member of Smetana's group. “They remember your name — your first name. Even the children do. It's a very, very friendly group of people. And what they offer is just of very high quality.”

The Amish operate farms and run businesses in Southern Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and elsewhere, much the same as their ancestors did in the 1700s. For religious reasons, they shun electricity, telephones and automobiles, but they will ride in motor vehicles driven by non-Amish. They dress plainly and maintain tight communities, though they freely transact business with outsiders.

A tour around the market at midday can be a noisy experience, especially during holiday seasons that generate plenty of orders for such items as chicken pies, hams, locally raised turkeys and old-fashioned Christmas candies, not to mention handmade crafts and furniture.

Sylvan Blank, 42, an Amish part-time farmer from Lancaster County, Pa., owns Lancaster County Salt Pretzels, an establishment that does a brisk lunch trade in freshly made hot dog, cheesesteak and pizza pretzel wraps.

As manager of the market, he knows all 17 vendors — 12 are Amish and commute from their homes in southeastern Pennsylvania, as he does — and serves as an effective guide. Blank doesn't make a study of customer traffic; his main job is finding vendors and leasing the spaces. But he says at least 200 people visit his store during a typical lunch hour.

Blank strokes his graying, below-the-chin beard and raves, in his understated way, about several eateries within his line of sight, all of them based about 90 minutes' drive north of Cockeysville.

To his left is Linny's Kitchen, a homestyle restaurant known for serving “a great breakfast” all day. Blank says insiders know it opens at 8 a.m., two hours after most vendors arrive and an hour before the rest of the market opens.

To his right, Amish Country Meats shows off one of its specialties — the proprietor's own “grillers,” or ready-to-grill sausages seasoned with cheeses, sweet peppers or onions — along with maple-glazed bacon and ham hocks.

And across the dining area, R and B Vegetables and Fruits features the last of the season's Lancaster County produce (broccoli and cauliflower) as well as juice from oranges squeezed that morning.

Then there are the other lunch spots: the Village Smokehouse, where Smetana and friends got their lunches; the Welsh Mountain Deli, its pickled red beet eggs and Amish potato salad on display below the counter; and Stoltzfus Bar-B-Q Pit, where a dozen customers wait for wings and spareribs.

Co-owner Aary Mae Stoltzfus steps into view and shows off some of her staples: turkey scrapple, a meat ground and seasoned in corn meal for frying; fresh ducks; turkey wings; and “homemade chicken pies,” which come with the gravy inside.

Stoltzfus and her husband, Allen, “have been cooking chicken for 24 years.” The first 13 were with the market in its original Westminster location. Like many of their colleagues, they work with their children, all six of whom they've brought into the business.

More than half the workers in the market are the teenage or grown children of proprietors, Blank says, including four of his own. “It gives the oldest boys a good job, and we're here together all day Saturdays,” he says. “We talk and get caught up as we work.”

Customers say that family feel permeates the whole place.

Robert Chiles of Cockeysville enjoys starting weekends by bringing his 8-year-old daughter, Sarah, here for grocery shopping after school on Fridays.

He stops to chat, his cart full, as she eyes games at Smart Kids Toys.

The market offers food as good as high-end organic chains but in a “much friendlier” atmosphere, he says, and the two have already made ritual stops at Katie's Candies, with its “way-back” treats such as strawberry lace and Turkish Taffy, and Mary's Gourmet Donuts.

“Coming here is a way of taking what would be a chore and making it an event,” Chiles says.

Around the corner, Rhoda Zaid runs Beads and Weeds, a beading shop with side specialties in flowers and minerals, as she has for 23 years.

The three-days-a-week schedule was a boon raising her own children, she says, and her daughter, Kelsey Shamer, 23, recently followed the Amish example by becoming her partner.

Zaid is not Amish, but she tells of how Syvia Ebersole, co-owner of the Village Smokehouse, taught Zaid's daughters how to can peaches, and the Zaids recently attended an Ebersole family wedding.

“We look out for each other. It's definitely a feeling of extended family here,” she says.

Through a hallway stands another dimension of the place: a 6,000-sq.-ft. wing full of handmade furniture, including heavy walnut dining tables, padded swivel gliders, a “leaner” rifle cabinet with a full-length mirror on the front, and handmade children's toys and rocking horses.

The stuff isn't cheap — the table goes for nearly $6,000, the cabinet for $1,250 — which is one reason Anna May and Jason Stoltzfus, co-owners of Twin Brook Furniture, moved their business here from the Joppatowne Flea Market and Amish Farmers Market in Joppa, a less upscale area, three years ago.

They're doing well, Anna May says, in part because the furniture is so well made.

“It's a lot more expensive than Ikea, but it will last a person a lifetime,” she says.

Smetana has bought several pieces there — part of the heart, soul and wallet commitment he has made over the years to a bazaar that has become part of his life.

He knows there are other Amish markets within driving distance — in Joppa, Laurel and Upper Marlboro, for instance, as well as Reading and Shrewsbury, Pa. — but this is his destination, and not just because it's in the neighborhood.

Smetana, who lost his sight years ago, has grown so close to Blank and other vendors that he's visited their homes, enjoyed tours of their farms, even ridden in their traditional buggies.

The visits have only confirmed what the longtime customer sensed about his favorite place to visit .

“Take the time to get to know people like Sylvan,” he says. “What a cool, knowledgeable guy. He can talk to you about anything — farming, his religion, raising kids. And I've never seen anybody work so hard. It shows when you come to the market.”

jonathan.pitts@baltsun.com