Spring has arrived. That also means our appetites return after a long, cold winter. My friend and I decided to visit a historic restaurant we felt was worth trying on a sunny Saturday afternoon. We found ourselves tucked into the heart of Colonial Williamsburg at Fat Canary, a spot as charming as it is storied. Warm light spilled from the open kitchen like late afternoon sun, and the clinking of silverware played in harmony with the gentle rustle of linen napkins and the occasional satisfied “mmm” from nearby tables. We could tell right away that this is a place that takes its food seriously. The atmosphere, the attentive staff and the overall vibe created the perfect setting for a date night, a moment of connection or simply a meal steeped in flavors.
The meal began with the breadbasket arriving like a quiet prelude, wrapped in black cloth like a well-kept secret. It was surely a secret basket, because it held crusty, rustic slices, golden at the edges and soft within so that I had already begun the meal even before appetizers came. The bread came with a thick plank of cold, unsalted butter, firm enough to resist the knife just a little—the kind of butter that makes you sit up straighter. You know what I mean.
Then came the opening act: a recommendation from the chef, seared foie gras on hazelnut toast. If you have never had liver that tastes like velvet melted into sugar and smoke, here’s your chance. The toast was crisp enough to crunch but never overshadowed the foie; it was a true supporting actor. Dotted around the plate, blackberries and a drizzle of berry reduction played the bright, zingy chorus. One bite, and I was a believer. Sure, the dishes are a little pricey considering we are college students, but the prices are surely worth it. If you want to impress a date, well, this is the perfect place to do so.
I ordered the grilled Atlantic salmon as my main course, and, let’s just say, it understood the assignment. The fish had seared skin with just enough snap and flesh that flaked like happiness. Underneath? A bed of fregola pasta with plump pearls of chewy joy nestled among golden raisins, capers and roasted eggplant. The dish was sweet, salty, briny and earthy. The whole dish swam in roasted garlic butter, which could frankly be bottled and sold as a lifestyle choice.
My dining companion ordered a beef tenderloin. It made bold promises and delivered a positive dining experience. The beef was perfectly medium-rare and tender enough that the knife just sighed through it. Crispy rosemary steak fries brought the crunch, while grilled asparagus kept things grounded. The blue cheese butter? A creamy little mic drop.
What I love about Fat Canary is that it doesn’t just serve food. It tells a story, one that feels uniquely personal to each diner. For me, it was a sophisticated, dynamic narrative — like a fireworks show unfolding dish by dish, each course was its own burst of flavor and beauty, building toward a dazzling finale. The restaurant provided an enjoyable atmosphere with a passion for food; there was a quiet confidence in every plate, a sense of family legacy in the flavors and a playful touch in the presentation. Fat Canary is the kind of place where a blackberry isn’t just a garnish: It’s punctuation. Just like the College of William and Mary, where we take pride in being the first in so many things, this restaurant deserves to be placed first among Williamsburg’s dining experiences.
Would I go back? Undoubtedly, yes. Next time, I’m saving room for dessert.
