Bottomless Pete Reviews: Bona Fide

Bottomless Pete Reviews is back: The Main's anonymous critic who's slowly but surely aiming to eat up everything the city has to offer, going beyond half-baked Google Reviews and people saying "guys, I just discovered" over and over on Tiktok.

Bona Fide

7 out of 10

$$½ out of $$$$

• Address: 8521 Saint-Laurent Boulevard
• Phone: 514-544-8521
• Website: bonafidemtl.ca
• Wheelchair access: Lacking.
• Reservations: Yes.
• Vegetarian-friendly? Barely, though concessions could be made.
• Vegan friendly? Far less likely.
• Parking: Not particularly.

I’ve heard it so often, and I’ve said it so often, that it’s become gospel. A motto. The selling point on every bus stop ad outside the city limits.

Montreal excels at hospitality.

The city’s known for it, and anyone who enjoys a night out at a real restaurant knows the archetype; that server with gracefully tatted sleeves who knows all the touchpoints, makes all the right jokes, knows just when to butter you up, and how to satisfy. There are dozens of places that I know will leave whoever I send there with a smile that’ll last on their face long after they’ve come to town.

...which is why it can so easily make or break a night out. We will come to that.

First, the backstory: Bona Fide opened in October 2024 in the former Paloma space, and it's got serious pedigree behind it. The crew—Renaud Bussières, Camille Laura Briand, Luigi Minerva, and chef David Alfred—all came up through Montreal's heavy hitters like Liverpool House, Nora Gray, and Antonietta. The name, "in good faith" in Latin, is a nice sentiment for what they're trying to do here: Roman-style cooking with a New York aesthetic and Montreal hospitality. That's the idea.

What we ate

Let's start with the good news: The food carries this place. Chef Alfred knows what he's doing.

We opened with oysters that were fresh and well-prepared, served with a giardiniera mignonette that was a delightful twist on the usual. Service didn't tell us where the oysters were from, which was an odd start. Small detail, maybe.

The beef tartare came next, mixed with their house bomba of pickled vegetables, topped with shredded caciocavallo. This was fine, though nothing I'd write home about. The richness of the tartare paired with fried and salty house chips was too much on too much, and lacking in acidity. While it's a rich dish on average, a tartare needs something refreshing to cut through, and this didn't quite get there.

The panzanella offered a bright counterpoint. Tomatoes were fresh, the pesto trapanese (a Sicilian variety with almonds and tomatoes) was well-balanced, and the croutons had that perfect crunch-to-chew ratio. Pickled shallots and torn basil rounded it out nicely. This was a simple and effective winner.

Pasta's where Bona Fide really shines. The doppio ($32)—ricotta and petit lait caramélisé with mushrooms and dusting of pangrattato—was excellent. Great portion, well-executed, quality ingredients throughout. Presentation here with its mushrooms seemed haphazardly plopped on top, though this is a minor point. I would eat this again many times over.

The radiatori ($28) with duck ragù and pecorino was even better. Rich, deeply flavoured, with a hint of something extra giving it depth—maybe a touch of dark chocolate to cut the acidity? Topped it with an interesting touch of fried rosemary, it left no one wanting.

Lastly, the côtelette de porc ($48)—the pork chop with chanterelles and tarragon—was juicy, well-cooked, and served with a deliciously unctuous sauce. I'd caution anyone that this is a generous cut, and definitely meant for sharing. The meat had real quality to it, and the kitchen did right by it. Honestly, I'd recommend this as the finale for a group of four rather than something for a two-top already working through a few courses, lest you leave stuffed to the gills.

The sweet stuff

Dessert was... mixed. Served a scoop of Cinnamon Toast Crunch ice cream, this was a nice callback to the cereal milk craze that passed through NYC in 2008. At this restaurant, one may find it weirdly out of place; Bona Fide has all the trappings of a great neighbourhood restaurant for Italian food, and opting to be newstalgic like this doesn't seem to do the menu justice. But, if this is the chef simply having fun, doing away with a strictly cohesive Italian throughline is by no means bad—just odd.

The torta della nonna—a lemon short crust filled with Italian pastry cream—was pleasant. Light, not too sweet, a nice way to end. Again, simple yet effective.

The room

Redesigned by Briand, the space leans into that old-school Italian-American joint vibe—wood paneling, vintage chairs, low lighting. It's got about thirty seats, making it intimate enough that you'd think it'd be cozy. I want to reluctantly caution folks reading this, however, that it's loud. It is can't-hear-the-music-playing loud, can't-have-a-conversation-without-raising-your-voice loud. Is this my age showing? I'd like to think not.

The culprit here is zero acoustic treatment. Sound just bounces off the glass of its adorable dining nook at the front of the dining room and largely bare walls, turning what should be a romantic neighbourhood spot into an echo chamber. More curtains or discreet panelling would go a long way here. The aforementioned window table looks great for a date night, but you'll be reading lips on a busier night.

Oh, and the bathroom situation: It's downstairs, past what feels like the staff area—prep kitchen door wide open, post-hardcore blasting, the works. The toilet paper holder in mine was straight-up broken off the wall. Minor? Sure. But for a spot that now sports a year under its belt and got longlisted for one of Canada's best new restaurants, it feels unfinished.

Service: The sticking point

Here's where things get complicated.

Our table had three different servers throughout the night, and the experience varied wildly depending on who was at our table. The server who handled our wine? Excellent. They made great recommendations (including La Butte 2023 from Clos du Tue-Boeuf that was spot-on), knew his stuff, connected with us well, and made the whole experience one of fun and exploration—one of those times you'll cheekily pick a higher-end bottle with no regrets.

Slight side quest here to mention that the wine program is solid. The wine list deserves its own mention—it's clearly where Renaud's put in serious work. The selection skews heavily Italian as promised, but there's smart diversification with French options (Loire, Rhône, Languedoc) and some interesting Sicilian producers. Prices run from the low-$60s up to $196 for a Gascina Corte Barolo, which feels fair for what you're getting.

What stands out is the depth: multiple vintages from producers like Clos du Tue-Boeuf, serious Piemonte representation, and enough natural wine selections to keep the industry crowd happy without alienating traditionalists. It's wine-nerd friendly but approachable, and if you let the right server guide you through it, you're in good hands.

On that note, back to the service: Another server noticed that our dishes were taking a while and tried to smooth things over by sending us shots, which was a nice gesture. They also knew the menu inside and out and could answer our food questions without hesitation.

But then there was the third server, and they... struggled. Disappearing for long stretches, which seemed a feat in such a small dining room. When they finally came to pour our last add-on glass of wine, they started explaining it but then said they wasn't sure what grapes were in it and never came back with the info. When our pasta courses were finished and the residual sauce left cold, only then did they attempt to upsell some focaccia. Timing was off throughout.

Look, maybe they was new. Maybe they was having a rough night. I get it. But for the price point we're talking about here—a bill coming out to $370—I wouldn't have put them on the floor yet. Not with that much responsibility.

Amongst these three players, there didn't seem to be a unified service style. At one point, one server was topping up our wine glasses as soon as they emptied. Then another server came by, cleared plates, and left our glasses sitting there empty. It felt like everyone was operating on different standards rather than working as a team, which came across as palpable friction.

So, would I go back?

I really wanted to love Bona Fide. The pedigree's there, the food coming out of the kitchen shows genuine skill and heart, and when service clicks, it clicks.

But for a place that's been longlisted among Canada's best new restaurants for 2025, there are a lot of rough edges. Between a somewhat punishing noise level and inconsistent service that can fundamentally change the experience depending on who's taking care of you, it feels as though some nights could be a dice roll.

When you roll a seven, though? It's a solid neighborhood Italian if you want fresh pasta and good wine. But it's not quite firing on all cylinders yet, and at these prices, I feel it should be. There's real potential here—it just needs some fine-tuning.