How Little Portugal carved out its place in the Plateau

The Home Hardware at the corner of Saint-Laurent and Rue Vallières greets passersby with a split display: on one side, a collection of seasonal building supplies, and a miniature homage to Portugal on the other.

The patriotic arrangement that extends to the store’s interior shelves, stocked with terracotta cookware and a flock of brightly painted Galo de Barcelos roosters, a symbol of good luck in Portuguese folklore. Officially named Quincaillerie Home Hardware Azores, the business reflects more than its function. Like much of the built environment along Saint-Laurent between Avenue des Pins and Marie-Anne Street, the store is part of the Plateau, but its name and imagery situate it within a cultural landscape that belongs to Little Portugal.

The Portuguese wave of migration

When Gabriel Pereira opened what was then just Azores Hardware on Saint-Laurent in 1968, he joined a postwar wave of Portuguese immigrants, many from the Azores.

The islands were crowded, economic prospects were limited, and life under the authoritarian rule of a fascist government offered few opportunities. Poverty and colonial wars were pushing many to look abroad for better options at the same time that Canada was encouraging immigration. This led to a political agreement to recruit contract agriculture and railroad workers from Portugal. 

Before the Portuguese wave of migration, various immigrant communities had used the Plateau as a kind of stepping stone in their integration into Montreal, eventually settling in other parts of the city and its suburbs. But the Portuguese transformed the neighbourhood known mainly for its affordability into something not “only viable, but also enjoyable.” 

As a community, they revamped the spacious but dilapidated housing recently vacated by Montreal’s Jewish population, and in 1975, were honored by l’Ordre des architects du Québec for the reconstitution and social restructuring of the urban area.

You can taste it

This ability for the Portuguese population to elevate what existed prior to their arrival in Montreal and make it their own is equally reflected in the food scene of Little Portugal. 

Francisco Pedro Castanheira, the man behind Coco Rico, was less inspired and more spurred to action by Quebec’s rendition of a rossiterie chicken, which he was disappointed to discover had little to no flavour.

In the mid 60s, he opened Castanheira do Ribatejo on de Bullion and Napoléon and began serving a seasoned and succulent version of the provincial staple. The later opening of Coco Rico coincided with Portugal’s gradual decolonization of Africa and the addition of Mozambique’s piri piri pepper into the Portuguese palate. Castanheira made his own version of the herb-laced hot sauce and used it to further fuel the fire of his grilled chicken restaurants. 

For the public good

To commemorate their contribution and impact made through local businesses, housing, and communal spaces, in 1975, the park that sits across from Quincaillerie Home Hardware Azores was re-named Parc du Portugal. Designed in 1953 by Carlos R. Martinez, the park honours the neighbourhood’s Portuguese immigrants with ceramic gates, a gazebo, and a tiled fountain by Rui Diaz (restored in 2017 by Sol Labos Brien) that bring the azulejo tradition to the northern climes of Canada. It was remodeled in the 90s to channel the essence of Portugal. Cobble stones replaced the grass and a gazebo with azulejo inspired tiles at its base became the centerpiece of the historic public space.

In more recent years Montreal’s mural tradition has been as a reminder of the Portuguese presence in the area that radiates from the park. A ceramic fresco referencing the history of azulejos in Portuguese culture sits alongside a portrait of fado singer Amália Rodrigues as she presides over the park. Nearby, a more contemporary work by the Portuguese Montrealer artist Kevin Ledo was completed in 2024.

A change in Canadian legislation and an improvement in Portugal’s socio-economic climate meant that after the mid 1970s, the immigration rate dropped. But in less than 20 years, the Portuguese community that settled in Montreal was able to increase the value of the Plateau, making it a safer, cleaner place where residents and visitors want to linger rather than pass through. 

While Portuguese immigration to Canada has slowed, the connection has come full circle: Between May and July 2025, travel from Canada to Portugal rose by 61%. Maybe Little Portugal helped encourage that craving to visit—offering a taste of the country through the culture and businesses brought here by immigrants and enjoyed by everyone.