My anti-Canberra prejudices were locked in at an early age. The nightly news reports my parents watched over dinner suggested the capital was synonymous with nothing but boring politics, and school trips managed to circumvent whatever fun there was to be had in the ACT in favour of galleries, memorials and dull buildings of federal significance.

Post-school work trips didn’t do a lot to change my mind. With no locals to guide me to the hot spots, restaurants seemed few-and-far between, except for the one or two that everyone in Canberra had decided was the only place to visit that month. By the next visit, when I’d manage to secure a reservation to one of those packed rooms, I’d find myself dining alone; all the city’s moths having moved on to the new bright light. 

But something changed. After moving to a farm in the NSW Southern Tablelands, Canberra has become my closest major city. And when hunger struck during a recent visit, I was stunned by what I found: Canberra is bloody amazing.

It’s a particularly chilly winter night, and I leave my hotel on the edge of the suburb of Braddon to find something to eat. The cold, far from keeping Canberrans locked away, seems to have drawn them out. Braddon’s main street is heaving. The scent of charcoal wafts from a small street food stall slinging meaty skewers, while puffer jacketed crowds huddle over cups of craft beer poured from the back of a repurposed, tap-lined van. 

Conviviality bursts from restaurants, wine bars and casual food stops. Couples share refined plates dotted with native ingredients over a glass of local wine in Corella’s slick dining room, while across the road Italian and Sons’ trattoria vibes turn pizza and pasta into an event. Takeaway bags filled with fried chicken pour out of Fricken, burgers and Detroit-style pizzas fly out of Grease Monkey’s kitchen and, even on such a frosty night, a queue forms for Gelato Messina’s frozen wares.

The atmosphere is infectious, so I keep walking and end up in the CBD. Conversation and food smells flood out of every building. A group of women take a selfie outside Wilma, the multi-storey Asian barbecue and cocktail joint everyone in Canberra wants to be seen at, with similarly joyful scenes repeated outside Japanese eatery Raku, and Japanese-Peruvian fusion hotspot Inka. 

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I find out on subsequent visits that these days almost every pocket of Canberra boasts a beloved café, a cosy bar or a celebrated restaurant. Buoyed by an increasingly youthful population, affordable cost of living and a spike in immigration, there’s barely a corner that hasn’t got something thrilling hidden in it. 

Aubergine, the sharp, seasonal fine diner headed by Ben Willis that many say kick-started Canberra’s current boom (though the restaurant has sadly posted an October closing date), hides in a small stretch of shops in Griffith among a wholefoods grocer and Pilates studio. Across town in Ainslie, Pilot sits in a similarly quiet corner, having quickly gained national attention for Chef Michael Harlow’s extravagant and inventive multi-course experience.

Some venues have quickly become local institutions, like Bar Rochford on the first floor of the CBD’s Melbourne Building, where wine, cocktails and fiercely good food have been meeting a thumping soundtrack and relentlessly welcoming spirit for six years. These local favourites have, in turn, spawned even more popular spots; like at Onzieme, where Rochford’s former chef and co-owner Louis Couttoupes has broken out to create a cracklingly contemporary Parisian-esque wine bar, transformed a quiet corner in Kingston into a bubbling hub of activity in the process. 

The increased diversity of the city is on show too. Fans of South-East Asian fare flock to XO in Narrabunduh, where Thai, Malaysian and Vietnamese dishes are cleverly reinterpreted and washed down with excellent cocktails, and to the newer Miss Vans; where the popular shipping container pop-up that was beloved for its banh mi and other street food-inspired goodies has found a lively permanent home in the heart of the business hub.

And while Canberra once had a reputation as a mostly pub-less town, breweries, tap rooms and ale houses now also abound. Braddon’s Assembly calls itself ‘the people’s pub’ and fulfills its promise with live music, DJ sets and live screenings of all the big sporting events, while around the corner the BentSpoke Brew Pub pours its award-winning beers alongside a classic pub menu. 

Public in Manuka serves a garden party vibe with margs and oysters flowing, the Kingston Hotel brings the old school pub bistro energy complete with a pool table and choose-your-own-meat counter, and Fenway Public House adds an Aussie twist to American-style good times via a cob loaf pizza.

The next morning, still giddy from the previous night’s discoveries (and the Bar Rochford cocktails), I set out for my caffeine hit. Again Braddon is alive with movement; joggers and dog walkers tangling with crowds waiting for a table or a takeaway coffee. 

I secure a seat at Scandi-inspired Rye on the main street and attack my flat white with a plate of skagenöra (creamy prawns and dill on rye toast), a perfect start to a new day in what I’m forced to admit might be one of my new favourite cities. 

There’s just as much crazy delicious AM stuff happening in every bit of Canberra, like the peanut butter and choc chip crepe at Penny University in Kingston, the mapu tofu jaffle at Intra, or the knockout egg, cheese and bacon-stuffed milk bun at Barrio.

As I step into the National Mint visitor centre, the brunch afterglow carrying me along on its wings, I realise that even the museums, galleries, monuments and other buildings of significance don’t feel as dull as they used to. Thoughts during the tour turn happily to lunch and dinner, and the realisation that unlike previous Canberra stays, I’ll need to choose somewhere to eat from the twenty-or-so places I’m keen to revisit. 

It’s a nice problem to have, and a nice place to have it. 

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