Where to take tea in Montreal

Montreal’s reigning brunch crew shifts gears with Paparmane, a maximalist tea salon from the team behind Régine and Janine Café. Just steps from the Notre-Dame Basilica, the 57-seat room is decked out in Rococo drama: velvet chairs, vintage china, chandeliers with birds, and waitstaff trained to deliver “wow.” Founder Pierre-Luc Chevalier channels his hotelier past into every detail, from the bespoke tableware to the “magic guide” every employee carries. Tea is the main act—18 types curated by sommelier Elyse Perreault (aka Lady T)—but food holds its own: devilled eggs get truffled, grilled cheese is studded with walnuts and 1608 cheese, and cucumber sandwiches veer off course with miso and salmon. Even cocktails arrive in teapots. With no allegiance to British tradition beyond the tiered service, Paparmane is more theatrical brunch sequel than quaint tearoom revival—and all the better for it.

Despite the name, The Palm Court isn’t a courtyard and has never pretended to be one. It sits just inside the Ritz-Carlton Montréal’s Sherbrooke Street entrance, beneath a ceiling painted with palms rather than shaded by them—a small detail that sets the tone. Designed by Tokyo-based firm Super Potato, the room leans into quiet luxury: low lighting, plush seating, and service calibrated to notice without hovering.

While best known for its long-running afternoon tea tradition, the Palm Court functions just as confidently as an all-day lounge. Cocktails and non-alcoholic drinks are handled with restraint and polish, and the food—drawn from the Ritz’s kitchen under executive chef Romain Valicon—moves between refined French technique and familiar comforts.

Chef Patrice Demers and sommelier Marie-Josée Beaudoin have made a spectacular return to Montreal’s dining scene with Sabayon, a project which refocuses their passions for dining experiences alongside tea time services and cooking classes—all in one intimate yet multifaceted space in Pointe-Saint-Charles. The space has two halves to it: When you enter, the first room to the left is a large bar seating 12 guests, with a kitchen behind it; that’s where classes take place for savoury dishes, an appetizer–main course–dessert formula where everything is cooked in real time for people to watch and learn, as well as wine classes by Marie-Josée. In addition to those classes and tea times, a dining room which seats 14 people focuses on small tasting menus that top out at about six per service, three nights a week on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays—and it gets booked up like crazy.

Rosélys is the kind of hotel restaurant that quietly insists on being taken seriously. Set inside the Fairmont Queen Elizabeth, the room leans into Art Deco without nostalgia overload: high ceilings, plush banquettes, confident lines. Designed by Sid Lee, it feels built for long days that stretch into evening rather than a single service window.

The kitchen works in a bistronomic register—familiar structures, cleaner lines—anchored in seasonal Québec ingredients and a menu that moves easily from breakfast through dinner. Brunch remains a draw, but Rosélys earns its keep at lunch and aperitif hour, where plates favour balance over bravado. Cocktails come with intention, wines skew thoughtful, and the pacing reflects its setting: downtown, yes, but never rushed. It’s a polished room that understands consistency as its real luxury.

La Brume Dans Mes Lunettes has been doing its own thing on Saint-Zotique since 2015, building a loyal following around tea, patience, and the simple pleasure of staying put a little longer than planned. The café takes its cues from British tea rooms: afternoon tea arrives tiered and precise, scones are non-negotiable, and Fortnum & Mason tins anchor the menu without stealing the show.

Food is made in-house and leans comforting rather than precious—cucumber sandwiches, gravlax bagels, quiche, lemon desserts—that are served in combinations. The room itself encourages longering, with mismatched chairs, long tables, rotating local artwork, and the low hum of people working, reading, or catching up.

Burgundy Lion Pub offers a distinct blend of British tradition and Montreal vibes, making it a relied-upon spot in Little Burgundy since opening in 2008. The pub’s décor is filled with memorabilia and souvenirs from the owners’ travels to England, along with collaborations with artists, which all together adds to the welcoming vibe. They serve a rotating list of beers, including two house brews, and boast one of the largest whiskey collections in Quebec with over 500 different bottles.

While the pub fare stays true to its roots with dishes that have included the likes of bangers and mash, Lancashire hotpot, and shepherd’s pie, there are seasonal updates to keep things fresh. Their brunch options are crowd-pleasers as well, ranging from hearty staples like the full English breakfast to Scotch eggs, avocado toasts, and a whole lotta mimosas.

Le Parloir opened in 2010 as the realization of owner Sylvie Marchand’s long-held idea of what a tea room should feel like: personal, calm, and free of fuss. The Plateau address is a well-composed living room where 17th-century references sit comfortably alongside restrained modern touches.

Scones, tea sandwiches, quiche, salads, and small cakes are made in-house and served without embellishment. Afternoon tea is the centrepiece, offered as a composed plateau rather than a spectacle, and the bring-your-own-wine policy keeps things relaxed and social. While not trying to reinvent the tea room, Le Parloir gets the fundamentals right.

Bar à Beurre has been quietly anchoring Old Montreal’s sweet tooth since 2012, built around family recipes passed down through three generations of Italian and Québécois women. Butter is the throughline here, most famously in the shop’s boules de beurre: sugar-dusted sandwich cookies filled with cream, inspired by Italian pesche dolci.

Beyond the display case of cookies, cakes, and macarons, Bar à Beurre runs a structured afternoon tea service that leans traditional but doesn’t feel rigid. Savoury finger sandwiches hold their own, but the balance tilts unapologetically toward desserts, with scones, petits gâteaux, and seasonal variations rotating in.

Open from morning through late evening in Saint-Léonard, Saray moves easily from breakfast tables to mezze spreads and charcoal-grilled dinners. The kitchen focuses on Turkish staples: serpme kahvaltı arrives as a full-table ritual of eggs, cheeses, olives, spreads, and bread; later in the day, pide comes soft and blistered, stews simmer low in clay pots, and skewers pick up smoke over wood charcoal. Portions are generous without tipping into excess, and prices stay grounded for the scope of the menu. The room is meant for families, long meals, and return visits rather than spectacle. Halal throughout and quietly consistent.

Salon Rosie-Lanoi gives afternoon tea the kind of pace it deserves. Reservations keep things unhurried, the kitchen works in small batches, and the menu changes often enough that repeat visits never feel repetitive. Expect the classics done properly—egg and cucumber finger sandwiches, scones with jam—plus a few indulgent extras if the table calls for it, like Victoria sponge or chocolate biscuit cake. Brunch and lunch follow the same home-baked logic.

Owners Nadine and Christine built the salon around the tea rituals they shared with their grandmothers, and that sense of care carries through the space and service. When you’re done, Pointe-Claire Village is right outside, ready for a slow walk and a second cup settling in.

Cha Noir has been a fixture in Verdun since 2003. What began as a modest tea house grew steadily under the stewardship of Mélanie Thibeault, whose focus has always been access to good products, fair prices, and the confidence to welcome newcomers.

The shelves carry close to a hundred teas and tisanes, spanning everything from classic black and oolong to matcha and Labrador tea, alongside a deep bench of teapots and accessories. The salon expanded in 2015, giving the space room to breathe while keeping its grounded feel. Light meals, desserts, and carefully considered tea pairings round things out.

Camellia Sinensis started as a coffee-bar idea in 1997, then got derailed—in the best way—by a Prague teahouse and never really looked back. By 1998, a small spot on Emery was pouring fifty teas; within a few years, the project had expanded into a full-on tea store, a course-driven Tea School, and a buying practice that meant getting on planes and meeting growers in China, Taiwan, Japan, and India. The early “late-night lounge” era didn’t last: by the 2000s, tasting and terroir became the point.

Since then, it’s grown into a Montreal reference for serious tea without the stiffness: books, workshops, industry-facing programs, eco-packaging and bike delivery, and experiments like the women-led Tea Studio in India. Even after the Emery teahouse closed in 2020, the operation kept evolving—more production, more distribution, same obsession.