L'incontournable Schwartz vous sert la meilleure viande fumée depuis 1928, sa recette est originale et ses épices uniques. Imaginez, vous passez la porte et vous vous retrouvez 75 ans en arrière sur l'historique --Main-- de Montréal. Un vrai monument à Montréal qui a reçu des célébritiés et des visiteurs de tous les coins de la planète.
Schwartz's est une institution montréalaise où le sandwich à la viande fumée est au cœur de l'expérience : viande tendre et généreuse, pain de seigle et cornichons à partager, souvent accompagné d'une poutine ou d'un soda cerise. L'endroit est constamment animé et les files peuvent être longues, mais le service reste rapide et l'ambiance old school rend la visite unique et conviviale. Certains trouvent le prix élevé ou la poutine décevante, mais l'envergure historique et la constance des saveurs font de Schwartz's un incontournable du patrimoine culinaire montréalais et une halte qui vaut le détour pour les amateurs de viande fumée.
Ordered on doordash, we considered going in person but after reading all of these reviews about disrespectful, condecending, & demanding service I am truly glad that we stayed in.
The Sandwich à la viande fumèe was small but delicious, I haven't had pastrami in a long time as I usually follow a pescatarian diet but it was so worth it!
A perfect ratio of fat to meat, genuinely could not have been better except to perhaps have wider slices of bread to not need to stack the meat so high on small slices (makes it difficult to take a bite).
However, the poutine is the first terrible poutine I've ever had in Montreal, the fries were soggy which is to be expected & is understandable when ordering fries for delivery & the cheese curds were pretty decent, but the issue was that they were incredibly burnt & just tasted like char or straight liquid smoke. Don't get me wrong, I love a smokey flavor, I charcoal grill nearly every chance I get in all seasons rain or shine, but these were not just smokey fries they were actually burnt to the point that we just picked out the cheese curds & couldn't stomach the fries at all..
My suggestion is order from a food delivery app like doordash, ABSOLUTELY get the smoked meat sandwich, & avoid the poutine at all costs.
The food was extremely bland. The best way to describe it would be boiled meat served with mustard & bread nothing memorable or special. The fries used for the poutine were burnt, which further affected the overall quality. Combined with the long wait, the experience was disappointing. Overall, the wait is not worth it, & I would not recommend this place.
One of the original places for Smoke Meat!! It's a Gem of a place. Old school service & food is the best!! If you go to Montreal this is a place with your time!
My first two visits were outstanding. My most recent visit this past weekend was not. My smoked meat poutine was just barely warm on arrival to the table. It was pretty disappointing after having such good visits last year with steaming hot smoked poutines. Atmosphere is hectic & expect a line to wait to get in. You also share tables with other people unless you have a party of 6 or you get seated at the high tops.
Took our guest here to try the famous smoked meat. We went for lunch & waited about 30 minutes in line, which is normal. We were three people & all ordered the classic smoked meat sandwich with a dill pickle on the side.
Surprisingly, we got a private table, rare here since they usually seat you with others. The taste was the same as always: classic, simple, & exactly what you expect from Schwartz's.
Only thing we noticed was the bill seemed higher than previous visits, but nothing to complain about.
⭐ 4.4/5 - Iconic spot, worth trying at least once.
1 déc. 2025
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Authentic taste of Montreal smoke meat. Take out is right next door. Place is always busy, but luckily it is on a street with lots of other options. Combo comes with coleslaw & fries plus a stack of bread, eat with the classic smoke meat or take home. Poutine is lovely with good amount of meat portion. Classic smoke meat sandwich a must try.
Smoked meat isn't necessarily my most favourite thing but it's certainly moist & a Montreal staple. Staff were so endearing & friendly, really enjoyed chatting with them during our visit.
Viande fumée qui ne vole pas sa réputation ! Je prends toujours à emporter des sachets de viandes sous vide pour éviter la queue & le manger chill at home. Jamais déçue
21 nov. 2025
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The smoked meat definitely lives up to the hype! Only downside is that you feel like you gotta hurry up as soon as you sit down. Not their fault, just the price of being famous. Still worth a visit!
I'm traveling with my family, & trying this sandwich is pure gold for my taste buds , I could never get tired of it. The only downside is the service, which is fast & a bit careless, but of course I understand, as it's a busy place with lots of people coming & going.
Our experience here was so great. Immediately helped to a seat & had drink orders & water right away. They are so busy so expect that it will be packed. Everything was very streamlined & we had a delicious meal. Our waiter even asked if I wanted our picture taken & took the best picture, without even being asked. He was not bothered, I am guessing he has taken lots of pictures 😂 definitely recommend stopping in if you have the opportunity.
Memory, like smoked meat, requires the proper cure.
At Schwartz's, Montreal's famous Hebrew Deli, both have been marinating since 1928, & I've been sampling the meat & the memory since the 1960s, when my father led me through a blizzard into what appeared to be an entirely male domain wreathed in steam.
I was seven, perhaps eight. The windows were opaque with condensation, as if the deli were keeping secrets from the street. Inside: old men, everywhere. Serving, eating, talking in that particular Montreal patois where French & Yiddish & English form an uneasy trinity.
The original owner moved among them like a presiding deity who happened to know both my grandmothers. That first sandwich - strange, tangy, accompanied by what I remember as'yummy friends' (fries, presumably, though the phrase suggests a child's more profound insight about the fellowship of food) & coleslaw & pickles & a black cherry soda that tasted of artificial everything & absolute happiness.
Then the changing of the guard. New management. The windows no longer steamed. Across the street, the Main, where my uncle Jerry had landed after abandoning high school for the immediate rewards of the service industry. A pragmatic choice that probably made more sense than it should have. His offer of a free Main smoked meat couldn't lure me away from Schwartz's - the place I was smitten with.
Schwartz's endured through its transformations. By my university years, there was Frank Silva, dark-haired & mustachioed, barely older than we were, serving us at 1 a.m. with the air of someone dispensing not just smoked meat but narrative. His daughter now waits tables, another layer of sediment in the archaeological dig that is this place.
The restaurant sold again. Bought by the Nakis & Angelil-Dion families, though everyone says it's owned by Celine.
The lines grew longer, a mixed blessing, like fame. A takeout shop materialized next door, because even tradition must eventually bow to efficiency.
& now, in 2025, the final indignity: Schwartz's has been listed in the Michelin Guide. The countercultural haven where we huddled at 1 a.m., where steam obscured the windows & old men held court, has succumbed to its own fame & glory. Legitimized. Validated. Reduced to a destination for culinary tourists with their tire-company-approved itineraries. One can almost hear the ghost of the original owner sighing into his pickle barrel.
I've brought my children. They love it as my grandmothers did, as my mother did, as my father especially did & many friends we brought there. Four generations united by cured brisket & the persistence of a single address - though now we must queue alongside people consulting their phones for the Michelin star count.
What Schwartz's teaches: that some things - not many, but some - deserve to survive. That a good sandwich is a form of time travel. That inheritance isn't always genetic; sometimes it's culinary. & that recognition, like preservation, always comes at a cost.
Go. Take your children. Let the smoke & spice seep into them as it has into the walls, into the city, into all of us who return again & again to this shrine of meat & memory. Just don't tell them it's in the Michelin Guide.
