I instantly feel transported back to the great Parisian bistros the moment I step through the door of L’Express Montréal: the gentle, chic hum of conversation, the large mirrors behind the bar, the tightly arranged tables pulling diners closer together, and the suited waiters weaving deftly between the rows. There’s no denying its aura; L’Express is arguably the most iconic French restaurant in Montreal.

Founded in 1980 by two theatre enthusiasts, Colette Brossoit and Pierre Villeneuve, the establishment was envisioned as a lively place (open almost at all hours). That vision still holds today, with a kitchen that serves until 1 a.m. It quickly becomes clear why this spot has become a true institution.

Seated at the bar, comfortably settled into my swiveling chair, I dive straight into the menu. The prices remain surprisingly reasonable for such a legendary address, and the great French classics all make an appearance. The menu has remained almost unchanged since the opening, with only eight dishes rotating according to the seasons and available ingredients. Two of my choices that evening were part of these seasonal additions.

Immediately, the bread basket arrives accompanied by pickles and spicy mustard, a nod to authentic French bistros where one happily uses bread to chase every last drop of sauce.

My first dish, the veal tongue with gribiche sauce, is a true success. The veal, tender without being mushy, is brightened by crunchy little croutons and a touch of pepper that energizes the plate. The gribiche is fresh, balanced, and pays homage to this dish that is often, wrongly, seen as too simple. Here, it regains all its nobility.

The next dish, veal kidneys, arrives coated in a surprisingly light mustard sauce. The mushrooms in the center add an extra touch of umami, while the crown of roasted potatoes frames the plate beautifully. The brown sauce, smooth and generous, reveals the earthy character typical of kidneys. The kind of dish where dipping your bread feels almost instinctive.

Up next is a buccin (whelk) vol-au-vent. The pastry shell, perfectly straight and golden, holds a subtly thick béchamel dotted with peas and sea snails. The execution is clean and precise, though for my taste the dish lacked a bit of personality and depth.

The experience ends with a sweet clover crème brûlée, served with a chocolate chip cookie. The cream is silky, gently perfumed by sweet clover ( an herb that adds a delicate, vanilla-like note). The caramel, however, was far too bitter for my liking, showing signs of slight overcooking.