Where to Date Yourself? A Guide to Solo Dining in Montréal

I love date nights. I love getting done up, I love performing my skincare routine, putting on my fake freckles, and soaking myself in enough cologne to tranquilize an elephant. I loathe meeting new guys and going on new dates, but I so definitely love dating myself. When I had a partner I loved our date nights, sitting at the bar with our knees scissored together, getting tipsy, I loved those nights almost as much as the ones I didn’t invite him on.

I’ve been dating myself for quite some time. I lost my parents at 13 and hit the ground running. From a young age, I was on my own and became comfortable being so, at my tiny Laurier Avenue apartment I felt so big in or out and about in the city I refused to feel small in. I dealt with my reality early on, it was something worth celebrating.

Solo outings all started at Dieu du Ciel, back in the days when the bathroom walls were chalkboards and gothic structures hung from the ceiling. They taught me to love beer. I’d chat with the staff when we both wanted to and put my head back in my book or laptop when we didn’t.

The golden rule is bar seating, and being a loner means you can often squeeze into the best dining halls in the city with a 20 minutes notice. Here is my list of favourite places I take myself on dates in Montréal. I’m happy to share them with you and hope you too can squeeze into these bar tops and that after you do there will still be room for little old me.

Bar St Denis

This place is not a bar or restaurant, it’s kind of both. The wines are kickass and Milee the bartender is stellar. The staff are lovely for putting up with me and literally moving their pos terminal to make me a seat. Chicharrón covered in a creamy shrimp salad, por favor.

L’Express

When I was 6 years old on a dry cleaning delivery here with my dad, I told him one day I wanted to be a regular there. When I walk in now, Vincent and Audray call me Monsieur Danny and it warms my nostalgic heart.

Réservoir

Bourbon Bloody Caesars and the buttermilk lettuce dish served by Vickie is something I never want to lose in this life of mine. Never.

Dinette Triple Crown

I don’t know who needs to know this but Dinette’s everything is good. Fried chicken and bourbon sours…and maybe a few margaritas, while staring at the bus riders on Clark through the window is my Sunday tradition.

Café Denise

In the summer I cheat on myself and bring my four legged husband to their terrasse on my last stretch home. Off-season I’m indoors listening to my favourite sommelière and wizness leader, Morgane, describe wines like potential future husbands.

Le Super Qualité

A Thali from different South Indian states changing regularly with many bitter gourd cocktails while listening to heavy rap from the 90’s…girl, namaste.

Le Majestique

I recently started hooking back up with this old flame. The staff is young but professional and flirty all at once. I just sometimes wished I was a big enough boy to down the foot long hotdog all by myself. Not a gay joke.

Marcus (at the bar)

I love good smells (remember the cologne thing) and the aroma at Four Seasons in Montréal makes me wet. Cocktails while staring at Leonard Cohen and expensive bathroom selfies became my downtown spot after we lost Dominion, RIP for real.

Le Poincaré

This place is a beautiful chaos I’m so happy to have in Montréal. My ex got me into burgers (RIP for real) and the burger here is a perfect before going out snack. Salut Arnaud 😉

Barranco

Our bike garage is not far from this spot and I’m a sucker for a good pisco sour and ceviche, being half Peruvian. Boozy lunches here are so fun that I often end up buying myself flowers at le Spot St. Denis on the way back to greet guests with a big smile and some dark sunglasses.

When the old Eaton’s 9th floor opens up I have a feeling I’ll be downtown more often, alone and content.

I’ve made a lot of like-minded friends on my dates with me. It’s something we do when we travel alone so why not here? One of my tour guides loves to do the movies alone. Myself, in silence, for two hours, no thank you.

I wrote this on a one hour connection home, sitting alone in seat 1C. I chatted up the pilot (today passenger) until we were done chatting over our glasses of wine. He was good at this too.

Just touched down, we’re  pulling up to the gate, it’s chilly out and the fridge is probably empty. I wonder where I’m off to tonight.