Fish Whistle
98 Cannon St.
Chestertown, Md. 410-778-3566
Open daily: Sun. noon-7 p.m.; Lunch, Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-4 p.m.; Dinner, 5 p.m.-9 p.m.; Bar menu available until midnight.

Atmosphere: Bright walls and blonde wood

Service: Erratic

Don’t Miss: Chocolate-chip ice cream sandwich; rice pudding

Tariff: Appetizers, $6.95-$8.95; entrees, $12-$26

If you give them waterside dining, they will come. And come they do to the busy, brightly painted Fish Whistle, which opened in Chestertown in May in the former space of the Old Wharf. There’s nothing subtle about the restaurant, from its mango-walled dining room and lime-green bar to its trying-to-be-everything-to-everyone menu. But Fish Whistle’s crowning glory is its location at the end of Cannon Street on the banks of the Chester River, where guests in the bar and dining room (or on the deck, in season) can take in this lovely stretch of water.

Fish Whistle, named for co-owner and chef Jeffrey Carroll’s friend’s boat, is decidedly a family joint. Young parents order milk for sippy cups while their toddlers point wildly at the families of ducks that paddle by—which is not to say you have to bring the kids, but if you do, they will be welcome. As will boaters, who can dock for free at the Chestertown Marina, if they call the restaurant ahead to make arrangements.

But if the view of ducks and the river is captivating, the food at Fish Whistle falls a bit short of that. Co-owner Jennifer Donisi explains that everything except the chicken fingers (on the children’s menu) and french fries are made from scratch. In theory, homemade is a good thing, but it means little if the food isn’t tasty. And some of it isn’t.

Several dishes suffered from lack of salt (something easily remedied); others simply failed to live up to their promise. The roasted jumbo shrimp appetizer made a particularly pretty presentation laid out on a square, white plate and drizzled with an almost creamy lemon vinaigrette. But its flavor fell flat, something that could have been improved with a perhaps just a touch of salt. Vegetable crab soup had a fresh tomato base and ample string beans, corn, and even squash, but it, too, needed a flavor boost.

Fish Whistle’s dinner entrees range from pan-seared duck breast with mango, lime, and chili jus ($22) to herb-crusted rack of lamb ($25) to a pulled-pork barbecue platter ($12), because, as Donisi explains, the restaurant “want[s] to offer a variety and a price point for everyone.” Crab cakes and pork barbecue are the restaurant’s biggest sellers so far, she adds, and I wonder if, at some point, the restaurant might just concentrate on that kind of casual fare. While it doesn’t feel incongruous to eat more formal food in this informal setting, trying to do everything stretches even the best of kitchens.

Take the elegant flounder special stuffed with crab Rockefeller. “Sort of like imperial,” explained the server, though it wasn’t as rich and had the addition of spinach. This, too, suffered from what was becoming a predictable blandness. (A diner near us registered the same judgment on the fish.) What made the dish even more frustrating were the unpleasant sides: rice flavored with what tasted like spices out of a foil packet, overcooked zucchini and yellow squash in a tomato base, and undercooked green beans tossed with fresh corn.

Beef brisket, which Carroll smokes on the premises, was a better choice. The platter comes with respectable coleslaw and potato salad, and you can add fries for a dollar more.
But if dinner underwhelms, desserts delight and are proof that sometimes simpler is better. Made in-house, the chocolate-chip ice cream sandwich is a sophisticated take on a childhood favorite, and the warm, buttery cookies (spiked with a hint of ginger, maybe?) embrace good quality vanilla ice cream. Old-fashioned, creamy rice pudding boasts a generous amount of nutmeg and comes in a soda fountain-style sundae glass. Save room.

Service at Fish Whistle is a bit hit or miss. There were good things happening around us to be sure—the aforementioned sippy cup service, the gracious treat of an extra (and unordered) appetizer to a table of thirteen near us. And the folks on the phone are warm and professional. Our server forgot bread and didn’t seem to have a firm grasp on the menu, but she may have been an anomaly or just very new.

Fish Whistle offers food with a view nearly twelve hours a day, every day of the week (with live music in the bar on Thursday nights). That’s ample time for you to whet your whistle should you want to take the plunge.

Mary K. Zajac writes from Baltimore.