At the southern edge of Little Italy, the scent of fresh bread still spills from Boulangerie Marguerita, as it has since 1910. Inside, the wood floors creak under sacks of flour, the tin ceiling gleams faintly, and a 12-foot brick oven from another era still fires hundreds of loaves a day. Owner Pietro Petrella, whose father once delivered Marguerita bread in a station wagon, keeps the operation as close to its roots as possible: hand-rolled dough, no additives, no computers, no shortcuts. The pagnotta—crusty, round, and unmistakably Montreal—is the bakery’s anchor. The place runs not as a relic, but as proof that craft can outlast convenience when someone’s stubborn enough to protect it.