At Fancypants, fine dining gets a glow-up--and not in the stiff, white-tablecloth way you might expect. Here, it's all about taking the seriousness out of fancy food and replacing it with a whole lot of fun. The setting? Full of vibrant reds, funky patterns, and enough texture to keep your eyes busy. They created a space that screams, "Have a F*-ing blast while you're here!" But, even with the fun factor dialed up, the food missed the mark. Things got...interesting.
Let's start with the vibe--it's playful, loud, and designed to make you smile. The atmosphere feels like a party where you might wear sequins, but also wouldn't bat an eye if someone showed up in sneakers. Ultimately, the dressed code is "please wear pants." It's cool, it's confident, and it's not afraid to make fine dining more accessible.
Now onto the menu. And oh, the menu...let's just say it's a bit like meeting someone at a wild party who tells you their entire life story in five minutes--you're overwhelmed and not sure what to think. As a first-timer, I took one look at the dizzying array of options, closed the menu, and waited for help to arrive. It's not that the choices aren't intriguing, but it's hard to make sense of it all without a bit of guidance. It was a lot to digest--literally and figuratively.
The service, however, is where Fancypants truly shined. Sarah was an absolute rockstar--informative, friendly, and with just the right amount of energy to make the experience feel like a conversation with a friend who knows way more about food than you do. Emily, a trainee, was equally eager to please, and it showed in her enthusiasm to learn and engage.
The concept of the tasting menu is fun in theory. You pick your own three dishes, and so does everyone else at the table, creating a mini-adventure for each diner. With three diners at the table, we were able to sample all the dishes on the menu. The downside? Nothing really popped. The food was good, but good isn't what you're hoping for when you walk into a place like Fancypants. You want something that makes you sit up straight, take a breath, and say, "I need more of that." Unfortunately, there wasn't a single dish that made me feel that way. Fun? Absolutely. Mind-blowing? Not quite.
Let's talk details. You might think fun, fine dining would provide you with a cozy bar to sip a cocktail while waiting for your table. Not here. Bar seating is based off reservations, but they do offer an aperitif at the host stand, which is nice, but feels more like a consolation prize. And if you're seated outside on the patio, beware--this area doubles as a waiting space, and we ended up losing a chair to a wandering guest whose group needed extra seating while waiting for their table. It's the kind of tiny inconvenience that sticks with you.
As for the dishes themselves, the (Tennessee) Caviar paired with Ruffles was, to be blunt, a letdown. It's cheeky, sure, but it tastes more like a Tuesday snack than something that deserves a spot on a fine dining menu. And the wine selection? Let's just say it felt like a missed opportunity. With such an adventurous menu, the safe choice of West Coast wines didn't do the experience justice.
That said, there were some gems. The palate cleansers were next-level perfection--think pickled watermelon and other fun surprises between courses. Each one was immaculate and refreshing, and honestly, they were the highlight of the meal. The Miso Butter Malfadine was also a winner, with its umami-packed richness and peanut chili crunch that made me pause and savor. And the Avocado & Smoked Banana? Creamy, crunchy, and just plain delicious.
So is Fancypants worth a visit? Sure--if you're looking for a fun night. It's not your traditional fine dining experience, and I truly don't think I could call it fine dining, but *I guess* that's the point. You'll leave with a smile and the memory of a night where the goal was less about being serious and more about having a f*-ing blast. Just don't expect the food to leave you breathless or counting the days until you return. read more