This article is the author's opinion. Think you have something to say about Montreal culture or community? Get in touch. We want to hear your pitch.

I opened The Coldroom in 2016 on a side street in Old Montreal that most people walked past without noticing. That was intentional—I wanted to create something that felt discovered, not advertised. But I didn't anticipate spending the next nine years watching the neighbourhood around me slowly forget what made it special in the first place.

Let me be clear about something upfront: I’m not nostalgic for some imaginary golden age in the past, and this isn’t about shitting on every decision the city's made. Old Montreal, at its best, is a backdrop of cobblestone streets and 18th-century architecture where you can stumble from an award-winning dinner into a bar serving best-in-class cocktails in North America.

This is about watching this neighbourhood of genuine historic and cultural value get slowly hollowed out by short-term thinking, and we're running out of time to course-correct before it's too late.

We paid millions for the wrong answer

When Montreal dropped $2.1 million to bring Michelin inspectors to the province, the city was making a bet on prestige. What we got back was a mere handful of stars and a clear message: Montreal doesn't really fit the Michelin mold. And you know what? That's fine. Michelin represents a very specific style of hospitality—formal, predictable—which has never been Montreal's thing.

If it were a music genre, Montreal hospitality is the grunge of the global restaurant scene. We do things our way. We've always been humbly ourselves—good service, but we're going to dress how we want, run our spaces how we want, and not really care about conforming to someone else's rulebook. People come here because of that attitude, not in spite of it.

This article is the author's opinion. Think you have something to say about Montreal culture or community? Get in touch. We want to hear your pitch.

I opened The Coldroom in 2016 on a side street in Old Montreal that most people walked past without noticing. That was intentional—I wanted to create something that felt discovered, not advertised. But I didn't anticipate spending the next nine years watching the neighbourhood around me slowly forget what made it special in the first place.

Let me be clear about something upfront: I’m not nostalgic for some imaginary golden age in the past, and this isn’t about shitting on every decision the city's made. Old Montreal, at its best, is a backdrop of cobblestone streets and 18th-century architecture where you can stumble from an award-winning dinner into a bar serving best-in-class cocktails in North America.

This is about watching this neighbourhood of genuine historic and cultural value get slowly hollowed out by short-term thinking, and we're running out of time to course-correct before it's too late.

We paid millions for the wrong answer

When Montreal dropped $2.1 million to bring Michelin inspectors to the province, the city was making a bet on prestige. What we got back was a mere handful of stars and a clear message: Montreal doesn't really fit the Michelin mold. And you know what? That's fine. Michelin represents a very specific style of hospitality—formal, predictable—which has never been Montreal's thing.

If it were a music genre, Montreal hospitality is the grunge of the global restaurant scene. We do things our way. We've always been humbly ourselves—good service, but we're going to dress how we want, run our spaces how we want, and not really care about conforming to someone else's rulebook. People come here because of that attitude, not in spite of it.

This article is the author's opinion. Think you have something to say about Montreal culture or community? Get in touch. We want to hear your pitch.

I opened The Coldroom in 2016 on a side street in Old Montreal that most people walked past without noticing. That was intentional—I wanted to create something that felt discovered, not advertised. But I didn't anticipate spending the next nine years watching the neighbourhood around me slowly forget what made it special in the first place.

Let me be clear about something upfront: I’m not nostalgic for some imaginary golden age in the past, and this isn’t about shitting on every decision the city's made. Old Montreal, at its best, is a backdrop of cobblestone streets and 18th-century architecture where you can stumble from an award-winning dinner into a bar serving best-in-class cocktails in North America.

This article is the author's opinion. Think you have something to say about Montreal culture or community? Get in touch. We want to hear your pitch.

I opened The Coldroom in 2016 on a side street in Old Montreal that most people walked past without noticing. That was intentional—I wanted to create something that felt discovered, not advertised. But I didn't anticipate spending the next nine years watching the neighbourhood around me slowly forget what made it special in the first place.

Let me be clear about something upfront: I’m not nostalgic for some imaginary golden age in the past, and this isn’t about shitting on every decision the city's made. Old Montreal, at its best, is a backdrop of cobblestone streets and 18th-century architecture where you can stumble from an award-winning dinner into a bar serving best-in-class cocktails in North America.