Montreal's best restaurants for solo dining

L'Express has been holding court on rue Saint-Denis since 1980, and the formula hasn't changed because it doesn't need to. The menu reads like a greatest hits of French bistro cooking: sorrel soup, marrow bones, veal liver, steak tartare prepared tableside. Founded by François Tremblay, Colette Brossoit, and Pierre Villeneuve, the room still hums with the conviviality they built into its bones. Luc Laporte's design has aged gracefully, all mirrors and white tablecloths and the kind of lighting that flatters everyone. Long-serving staff move with ease, treating regulars and first-timers with the same unhurried attention. For solo diners, the zinc bar is the move: a front-row seat to the room's rhythm, where a glass of wine and a plate of frites feels like its own occasion.

Richard Holder's latest addition to Saint-Laurent Boulevard lands next door to Schwartz's, and the room alone is worth the visit. Designed with Thomas Csano, every angle reveals something: Madonna statuettes, a haloed cow's head, communion wafers at the entrance. The menu leans Italian, but the real draw is the atmosphere, theatrical without tipping into kitsch. For solo diners, the bar offers a prime perch to take it all in. Order a plate of pasta, a glass of wine, and let the room do its work. It's the kind of place where eating alone feels less like solitude and more like a private show.

Le Majestique opened in 2014 as a bar first, restaurant second, and that energy still defines the room. Thomas Csano's design leans into kitsch and curios, creating a space that feels collected rather than decorated. The menu focuses on seafood and seasonal vegetables, with the 12-inch Gaspor pork hot dog as a reliable crowd-pleaser. Oysters are excellent here, and the drink list (natural wines, microbrews, classic cocktails) runs late. For solo diners, the bar is the centre of gravity. Pull up a seat, order a dozen oysters and a glass of something crisp, and settle into an evening that can stretch as long as you want it to.

Pichai doesn't deal in the Thai food you already know. The kitchen looks north toward Isaan, where heat, acidity, and texture do the work. From the team behind Pumpui, expect dishes that land with intent: fried fish balls slicked in sweet chilli, duck laab with duck hearts, grilled offal finished with sharp herb relishes. Specials rotate and reward repeat visits (firefly squid with nam jim talay, for instance). The room runs tight and boisterous, with a low-intervention wine list that understands spice. Solo diners fit right in at the bar, where the energy of the room washes over you and a few small plates add up to a full meal without requiring a game plan.

Nolan brings a familiar warmth to Griffintown's dining scene, the kind of room that feels like gathering with friends even when you're on your own. Chef Tyler Flamand (formerly of Knuckles) builds the menu around seasonal local produce, with dishes designed for sharing but easily scaled for one. The Nolan Roll stands out: a gourmet riff on the cheese stick, stuffed with Montreal smoked meat, Emmental, and sauerkraut, served with red bell pepper sauce. Communal energy fills the space, but solo diners can settle comfortably at the bar with a drink and a few plates, watching the room come alive around them.

Vin Papillon started in 2013 as the quieter, greener offshoot of Joe Beef and Liverpool House, but it's become something else entirely over the years. The room is intimate and unflashy: white brick walls, an open kitchen, and a painting of an ocean liner (by Fred Morin himself) looming above. The menu stays short, seasonal, and slyly inventive, moving from wood-fired maitake to escargot atop escargot. Walk-ins only, doors at 3pm. For solo diners, this is one of the best seats in the city. The bar puts you close to the action without demanding conversation, and the natural wine list (now curated by Max Campbell of Deux Caves) makes lingering feel like the point.

After nearly 30 years, Le 9e has reopened on the ninth floor of the Eaton Centre, and the art deco grandeur remains intact. Designed by Jacques Carlu to evoke the luxury of the French Line ocean liners, the space transports you the moment the elevator doors open. The menu blends French and Quebec plates: tartare, breaded cod, onglet steak, pastas by Kiera German. A heavyweight team (Jeff Baikowitz, Marco Gucciardi, Derek Dammann, Liam Hopkins, and others) keeps things running smoothly. The cocktail bar, Le French Line, handles classics with care. For solo diners, the room's scale works in your favour. A seat at the bar lets you absorb the spectacle without feeling lost in it.

Stem Bar opened in early 2020 on Notre-Dame West, a project from the team behind September Surf Café. Ravi Handa's design balances sobriety with vintage touches, creating a space that feels relaxed without being casual. The menu focuses on fresh, shareable plates that change with the season, and the drink list favours small independent wine producers and local breweries. The 57-seat room includes a dedicated bar area, which makes it particularly welcoming for solo diners. You can post up with a glass and a few plates, watch the room fill, and leave without ever feeling like you needed company.

Bar Vivar channels the warmth of a Spanish taverna on a Plateau side street. Georges Greiche and Patrick Oakes, both Joe Beef alumni, built the place to feel like a home away from home, and it shows. The menu delivers a genuine taste of Spain (patatas bravas, tortilla, jamón) alongside carefully selected wines, sherries, and vermouths. Patrick's sommelier background keeps the list sharp and approachable. The room is small and convivial, the kind of place where solo diners blend into the fabric rather than standing out. A seat at the bar, a few plates, and a glass of sherry makes for an evening that feels complete without requiring a crowd.

Leméac has been a cornerstone of Outremont dining for over 20 years, and it earns that status by refusing to chase trends. The menu sticks to French bistro classics executed with care: beef tartare, escargots, steak frites. Brunch is a highlight, with towering French toast and boudin with cider sauce drawing weekend crowds. The room is elegant but approachable, the terrasse lovely in any season. For solo diners, the late-night prix fixe (after 10pm) is a quiet revelation: a proper meal at a gentle price, when the room has settled and the pace slows. A book, a glass of wine, and a steak feels like exactly enough.

Le Petit Alep has earned a devoted following for its vibrant Syrian and Armenian cooking, served steps from Jean-Talon Market. The Frangié family opened the original Restaurant Alep in 1976, and this casual offshoot carries the same warmth. Mezze like muhammara, labneh, and shish kebab arrive with care, and the 250-bottle wine list punches well above its weight for a room this size. Jean-François Potvin's design blends open space with pops of colour, creating an atmosphere that's lively without being overwhelming. Solo diners can settle in comfortably here, especially at lunch. A few mezze, a glass of something from the list, and the buzz of the market nearby make for a satisfying midday escape.

Le Filet has held its place on the Plateau since 2011 by doing things right without making a fuss about it. The menu leans into seafood, changing with what's coming off the boats: scallops, striped bass, salmon, all cooked with precision. A few meat dishes keep non-fish eaters covered. The room is glossy and theatrical (brass, steel, deep green finishes), with an open kitchen and a long slate bar that turns service into a kind of low-key performance. For solo diners, that bar is the draw. You're part of the action without needing to engage, watching plates leave the pass while working through a glass of wine and whatever looked best that day.

Juliette Plaza is the little sister to Montréal Plaza, opened by Cheryl Johnson and Charles-Antoine Crête as a more casual counterpart to their flagship. The menu runs snackable: devilled eggs, sandwiches, temaki-style rolls, plus the seafood mastery you'd expect from the MP kitchen and offal spun in creative directions. The room blends nostalgia with invention, both on the walls and on the plate. For solo diners, it's an easier entry point than the original, with a bar setup that welcomes drop-ins and a vibe that doesn't require a full evening's commitment. A few snacks and a drink can stretch or wrap up as the mood dictates.

Au Coin works as both wine bar and café, and the menu reflects that balance. Food stays compact and deliberate: pantry plates, pizzas, warm dishes like lasagna al flame, pastina in brodo, and roast chicken. Julien Navarro's sourdough pizzas support restrained toppings (margherita, blue cheese and sausage) designed to pair with what's in the glass. The wine list leans toward fresh, low-intervention bottles chosen for drinkability, with enough range to carry you from aperitif to late evening. Cocktails follow classic structures with clean execution. For solo diners, the room's beauty and the ease of ordering a pizza and a glass make this an ideal spot to settle in alone without feeling like you're waiting for someone.

Verdun Beach borrows its name from summer fantasy but grounds its offering in old-world charm. Modelled after a French guinguette (a casual drinking and dining spot with room for dancing), it opened in June 2020 by Charles Garant, Philippe Jacquelin, and Marc Frandon of natural wine agency Primavin. The kitchen runs concise and sharply seasonal: corn salad with a velouté of its own kernels, roasted cauliflower over cameline and blueberry purée. The wine list, arranged by winemaker rather than region, reads like a who's who of natural wine. Come sundown, the disco ball kicks in. Solo diners can claim a spot at the bar early, work through a few glasses and plates, and decide whether to stay for the turn toward party or slip out before the dancing begins.

Bar St-Denis has earned its rising reputation through careful, considered cooking. David Gauthier and Emily Holmsy lead a kitchen that treats local sourcing as a starting point, not a selling point. The Deer Kibbeh Nayeh stands out: raw deer with a creamy texture and subtle sweetness, garnished with mint and onion, finished with good olive oil, and served alongside spicy chili-brushed flatbread. The menu rewards exploration, and the room's intimate scale makes solo dining feel natural. A seat at the bar puts you close to the energy without demanding participation. A few dishes, a glass of wine, and the hum of the room around you.

Bar Otto brings Japanese dining to Notre-Dame West with a blend of elegance and ease. Hanhak Kim's project builds on the success of Otto Yakitori and Bistro Otto (now Kitano Shokudo), offering grilled skewers, ramen, mazemen, and excellent sashimi. The drink menu highlights natural and biodynamic wines alongside a fine selection of sakes. Israël Noël's design merges traditional Japanese elements with modern touches, creating a serene atmosphere. For solo diners, the bar is welcoming and the format forgiving: a few skewers, a bowl of ramen, a glass of sake. You can make it a full evening or keep it quick, and either feels appropriate.

Schwartz's has been a Montreal institution since 1928, and the formula hasn't budged. Smoked meat is marinated for 10 days, smoked, and steamed, then piled high on rye with mustard. The menu is short: sandwiches, full plates, turkey, salami, and the occasional rib steak or poutine. The original Saint-Laurent location is cramped and loud, with communal seating that puts strangers elbow to elbow. That setup, oddly, makes it one of the city's best solo dining experiences. You'll share a table, exchange a nod, and focus on the sandwich in front of you. No awkwardness, no pretence, just meat and bread and a pickle on the side.

Fleurs & Cadeaux occupies a pink, century-old building on Saint-Urbain, honouring its past life as a florist and gift shop. Inside, the space is thoughtfully assembled, from the vinyl selection to the retro décor. Chef Tetsuya Shimizu runs an open kitchen turning out temakis, Japanese curries, sashimi on rice, and bento boxes. The drink menu features inventive cocktails, natural wines, and artisan sakes. The basement speakeasy, Sans Soleil, adds a hidden layer for later in the evening. For solo diners, the bar seating and visual energy of the open kitchen make it easy to eat alone. Order a few things, watch the room, and stay for a drink downstairs if the night calls for it.

Ichigo Ichie takes its name from a Japanese phrase meaning "this time only," a reminder to cherish each moment. Founded by Kevin Fung in 2015, the Plateau restaurant offers Japanese dishes with local touches: sashimi with Quebec influences, classic yakitori, crispy tempura, all made without MSG. Michel Prete's design mixes wood and stone with modern, vibrant accents. The menu runs wide (daikon salad, yuzu tuna tataki, pork shoulder with apple miso butter, takoyaki), and the sake and cocktail list encourages exploration. For solo diners, the bar provides a comfortable seat to work through a few plates and a drink, letting the room's warmth settle around you.

Bar Dominion reopened under new stewardship from chefs Pablo Rojas and Hakim Rahal (Provisions Bar à Vin) and Andrew Whibley (the Cloakroom), drawing on both its recent history and its original 1927 incarnation as a hotel restaurant. The menu now leans toward drinks and snackable food: a raw bar with oysters, crab, caviar, and lobster, plus a refined selection of seafood and fish. The cocktail list runs 25 deep, organized by style (martinis, negronis, whiskey-forward, highballs, 75s and spritzes). The room retains its old-world elegance, and the bar is a natural home for solo diners. Post up with a martini and a half-dozen oysters, and let the evening take shape on its own.

Stellina brings Italian dining to Old Montreal with a focus on handmade pasta. Chef Jonathan Agnello and his team craft intricate shapes like scarpinocc and capunti in-house, turning each plate into a showcase of regional technique. Massimo Lecas envisioned the space as an homage to slow, deliberate Italian cooking, and the Gauley Brothers' design delivers: exposed brick, mirrored ceilings, rich leather seating, a New York-meets-Italy elegance. The wine list stays largely Italian, curated to match the kitchen's artisanal ethos. For solo diners, the kitchen bar offers a front-row seat to the pasta-making process. A bowl of something handmade, a glass of wine, and the quiet theatre of the kitchen at work.

Restaurant Gus has kept Little Italy regulars coming back since 2014 with hearty portions, robust flavours, and an atmosphere that feels genuinely welcoming. Chef-owner David Angus Ferguson (formerly of Le Jolifou) runs a 26-seat room with an open kitchen and deep red décor. The menu balances seasonal changes with untouchable classics: made-to-order Caesar salad, foie gras nachos, flank steak, surf-and-turf for two. Desserts lean comforting (gluten-free blueberry cheesecake, French toast with house caramel). The wine list is carefully curated, and Ferguson's style emphasizes honest cooking over fuss. For solo diners, the small room and open kitchen create a sense of inclusion. A seat near the action, a few courses, and a glass of wine add up to an evening that feels complete.

Sora 45 sits on Place Ville-Marie's 45th floor, a more accessible entry point to the Hiatus team's high-altitude ambitions. Originally conceived as a café and lounge, the space has been reimagined with chef Gary Durand and Hiatus chef Yoann Therer, serving sushi and hot dishes alongside cocktails by Carl Charette-Kelada and Tim Robertson. Lunch brings platters of maki, nigiri, hosomaki, and chirashi; dinner expands to more elaborate offerings (eight-hour pork belly, koji-marinated beef sirloin, chicken tsukune). By day, Sora Café takes over with specialty coffee and a panoramic backdrop. For solo diners, the views and the format make this an easy choice. A seat at the bar, a few pieces of sushi, and the city spread out below.

La Buvette Chez Simone has anchored Parc Avenue since 2008, drawing Montrealers with well-priced wine and simple, satisfying snacks. The room, designed by Zébulon Perron, wraps you in warm wood tones and a convivial buzz. The wine list is excellent, and the food stays in its lane: charcuterie, cheese plates, and small bites built for pairing. The atmosphere is laid-back but attentive, equally suited to casual evenings or celebratory gatherings. For solo diners, the bar is a natural fit. Order a glass, add a board, and let the evening stretch or wrap up as it will. No one's rushing you, and no one's watching.

Bar Minou feels improvised and deeply considered at once. Yailén "Yaya" Díaz and Phil run a room that thrives on curiosity, turning out cocktails like margaritas spiked with Aperol and jalapeño or negronis dressed with rhubarb from the neighbour's garden. The food follows a similar logic: skewers of pork belly and octopus braised for days, off-cuts and ferments, Mediterranean flavours filtered through Cuban and Nova Scotian memories. Specials shift with the mood. Yaya's path (Havana to Berlin's natural wine bars to Montreal) anchors the menu with restless exploration. For solo diners, the bar is the heart of the room. A cocktail, a few plates, and the feeling of being somewhere that hasn't calcified into formula.

Leila brings Mediterranean cooking to Saint-Laurent Boulevard, a collaboration between chef Amine Laabi and three friends from his Cafe Gentile days. The 50-seat room, dressed in warm browns, greens, and blues, features an open kitchen and a cozy back lounge with vintage rugs and armchairs. The menu draws from across the southern Mediterranean (Morocco to Greece), emphasizing simple, seasonal preparations. House-made merguez from Quebec lamb, Moroccan sardine toasts, braised beef cheek with fennel and chickpeas. Alizée Jutras curates the wine list, focused on Italy, France, and Spain. For solo diners, the bar and lounge both welcome you. A few plates, a glass, and the hum of Mile End just outside.

Molenne feels like it's always been here, even though it hasn't. Housed in a former hay depot from Montreal's first racetrack, the room is layered with salvaged history: banquettes from Théâtre du Nouveau Monde, chimney plaques repurposed as décor, a 32-year-old fridge given a second life. Chef Louis-Joseph Rochefort (Attica, Australia) sharpens brasserie staples into something more precise: black cod in shiitake broth, braised cabbage with escargots, white charcutière sauce. Gia Bach Nguyen runs the bar, pouring cocktails on tap, while a 5,000-bottle cellar stocks everything from rare vintages to solid $50 picks. For solo diners, the bar puts you in the centre of the action. The room's scale absorbs you rather than isolating you.

Burgundy Lion has been a Little Burgundy fixture since 2008, blending British pub tradition with Montreal personality. The décor is filled with memorabilia from the owners' travels to England, and the atmosphere stays reliably convivial. The beer list rotates (including two house brews), and the whiskey collection tops 500 bottles. Pub fare stays true to its roots: bangers and mash, Lancashire hotpot, shepherd's pie, with seasonal updates. Brunch draws crowds for the full English and Scotch eggs. For solo diners, this is one of the city's most comfortable rooms to drink alone. Post up at the bar with a pint and a pie, catch a match on the screen, and let the afternoon unspool without agenda.