Montreal-Style Pizza Is (Still) A Thing — Here's Where To Get A Slice Before It Disappears

Montreal's most popular pizzerias over the past decade have taken a page from the world's top pizza cities. You’ve got places like Adamo and Pizza Toni doing New York-style pies, the airy crust and crispy-cheesy edges of Detroit-style squares at Hang Time and Brigade, Roman al taglio squares at San Gennaro or Segreta, classic Neapolitan-style pizza from new names like Magpie, Elena, Gema, and the local giant Pizzéria NO.900 that are joining famous old-school spots like Fiorellino, or Bottega. We don’t have a deep dish that’ll satisfy an ex-Chicagoan (yet), but we’re bound to get one soon enough.

The one place missing from this list? Montreal. When’s the last time a new restaurant opened with the goal of perfecting—let alone proudly serving—Montreal-style pizza?

In a city known for its restaurant scene, are we just giving up on this front? Are we happy to let our local scene be derivative of others? Are we admitting defeat to other cities on this front? While we can say we have our own recognized style, there definitely aren’t a lot of people actively emulating what we have to offer (except people like this guy out in British Columbia).

What gives? Is it the least attractive style in the world? A lot of locals don’t care for what we have, and those that do love good Montreal-style pizza (and no, I’m not talking about pizzaghetti) are going to find that even well-made versions of it are increasingly rare.

It’s crusty, cheesy and not that photogenic

I’m talking about old-school spots with those big, saucy pies that are usually served all-dressed— pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms that are always sliced, never diced—with the cheese (usually a lot of cheese) on top. The crust is usually super thick on all sides to support how much goes onto it. Maybe they have a fat ball of dough in the centre to prop up the box’s lid.

That recipe will sound like sacrilege to some outsiders, but there are a few spots that do it well like Woodland in Verdun, D'Agostino's in Riviere-des-Prairies, Centrale in Lasalle, or Elio in Little Italy. Some people love Alto’s in the Plateau.

They’re usually anything but photogenic and some of us will only think of it as an afterthought or something to eat while drinking, but screw it, it’s lovable. It’s by no means something so unique that it needs to be recognized by UNESCO's list of Intangible Cultural Heritage like the baguette is to France, but damn it, it’s ours and when it’s good? It’s downright satisfying.

The thing is, it's next to impossible to find new spots that are proud to serve it, and worse, some of the city’s classic addresses are fading away. On August 31, for example, Amelias in the McGill Ghetto closed up shop after 38 years in the business. If you got to try their five-cheese, you were one of the lucky few.

Is Montreal even a pizza town at all?

If you go digging around on Reddit, asking around for local recommendations, most people are going to give you the same answer: Montreal’s pizza ain’t it. The local pride isn’t there. Sure, some people are going to troll the comments and say you’re better off ordering Domino’s or Pizza Hut, but you’ll notice that most others won’t suggest Montreal for pizza.

Take this thread, for example:

“Montreal is a city where locals go out to eat good pizza (we get it delivered when we're drunk or on July 1st,” one user says.

“Montreal is an exceptional city for food EXCEPT pizza,” another writes. “I've traveled quite a bit (and) I'd say small-town pizzerias in upstate New York have much better pizza than we do.”

Are they wrong?

On top of all this shit-talking, if you scan any of the Montreal Reddit community’s megathreads like this one, this one or this one, Montreal born-and-bred spots won’t come up nearly as often as places doing classic Italian and American-inspired versions.

Our by-the-slice game, when locally sourced, isn’t that much to talk up either. I can’t picture anyone coming here from abroad to study and texting their friends back home to say “I just had this AMAZING slice at the corner of Prince-Arthur and Saint-Laurent when I was nearly blackout drunk at 3 a.m., you have to try it!” IYKYK.

Are these the end times for Montreal-style pizza?

There may very well be more sub-par places out there than good ones when it comes to Montreal-style pizza, and the city’s using a lot of techniques and ingredients from elsewhere in the world to fill the gap.

And that kinda sucks, doesn’t it? Maybe you’re like me and you actually enjoy the whole-melted-brick-of-mozzarella pies you get from New System BAR B Q or Salonica late at night after helping a friend move into their apartment and/or taking a big rip off a bong.

So if we’re losing more classic spots doing Montreal-style pizza faster than we’re gaining them, what are we going to have left? Are we going to resign ourselves to thinking that pizza styles from elsewhere in the world are just better and that we just have to watch the rest fade from existence?

Maybe millennials like me are just going to grow old in a retirement home somewhere, looking out the window while a robot nurse administers meds and reassures me that, yes, Montreal-style pizza was good back in the day. “Now, eat your JELL-O.”

On the flip side, I’ve seen Montreal’s chefs and restaurateurs do some crazy things sometimes. I’d like to think that the sheer spirit of invention they’ve got is going to either keep the old institutions alive, or they’ll come up with techniques and recipes that’ll build wholly new institutions altogether.

Or maybe Montreal-style pizza is one of those things that will just die out, either ending up in rare books and special collections stored at McGill, or it’ll just get jokingly made sometimes during pop-ups or served as a throwback special on a menu somewhere.

If the thought of it disappearing from the face of the Island is something that kind of disturbs you, even just for a moment, consider going out to a good Montreal-style pizzeria sometime. Order something big (heck, even ask for extra cheese), pop a Lactaid, and remember that the first bite you’re taking is something straight out of history.

Who knows? They may very well never make them again like that, so you might as well appreciate it while you can.