The Best Places in Canada

The entrance is half-hidden behind a concrete and rusted metal cylinder on a busy stretch of East Hastings, which keeps the right people curious and everyone else moving. Inside, this coffee shop goes full cave: moss walls, dark wood, angular mirrors doing their best stalactite impression. Four small in-house roasters mean tight batches and serious room to experiment, and the staff will ask your flavor preferences before they recommend anything.

The entrance is buried inside a concrete-and-rust cylinder on a busy street, which sets the tone: this coffee shop rewards the curious. Inside, moss-covered walls and mirror angles that suggest stalactites make it feel like a very good cave. The team roasts in small batches on four compact roasters behind the bar and tailors drink recommendations to your flavor preferences, so let them lead. Waffle donuts rotate through glazes like pistachio spice.

The pain au chocolat in the glass case is close enough to the queue that resisting it becomes someone else's problem. This Yaletown coffee shop splits its identity evenly between serious cafe and in-house bakery, with pour-overs from Canadian roasters and bread baked on the premises. Wood beams, marble tables, and brass-rod geometry on the walls give it a look that earns its following of counter-sitters who never quite leave.

The sign above the door reads "Non-conforming since 1992," which sets expectations correctly for this dark, low-key coffee bar on Commercial Drive. Regulars settle in at the community table or claim a two-top for an hour of work, while foot traffic drifts over from Grandview Park across the street. The beans come from Milano Coffee, roasted to the original Conca d'Oro blend. The art on the walls depicts the neighborhood; so does the room itself.

Neapolitan pizza from a chef who spent fifteen years in someone else's kitchen before opening his own casual spot on Edmonton Trail. The dough is certified by one of Italy's leading associations, and the wood-fired results show it. Ranked 81st on the 50 Top Pizza World list, which for a Calgary neighborhood pizzeria is a fairly extraordinary number. The staff has the easy warmth of people who are genuinely glad you showed up.

The whitewashed facade on Main Street gives nothing away, but inside, tall tropical plants and plush seating set the mood for modern Peruvian fine dining done without a trace of fuss. The kitchen runs citrus-bright ceviches and tiraditos alongside bolder, earthier plates, and the bar program is the kind that earns its own reputation. A Michelin Selected restaurant with a AAA Four Diamond rating.

A neighborhood bistro on Victoria Avenue where the menu leans hard into comfort, the kind of place that makes halloumi and a burger feel like they belong on the same page as steak frites. The chef here seems genuinely unbothered by trends, which in Westmount reads as a quiet act of confidence. Regulars fill the room early and often, and the mousse de foie, when it shows up, tends to overshadow everything around it.

Chouchou is a tiny takeout storefront in Limoilou doing smash burgers and sandos, with a menu that borrows freely from across Asia and doesn't apologize for it. The chicken comes with gochujang on a potato bun and requires a stack of napkins, while the katsu sando rides on milk bread from a nearby bakery. The pandan iced tea glows a color not found in nature, and there's a fried ice cream sando if lunch needs a second act.

Emmaline's is a small sit-down pizzeria in Victoria that bakes Trenton-style tomato pies, the kind with a crackly edge, a puffy middle, and pepperoni that curls into little cups of orange grease. The room looks like an antique shop with good light. On Tuesdays the kitchen swaps in a snack bar menu, so a smashburger can arrive with a pile of supermarket chips, and pie is still available for dessert.

Friends & Family Bake is a small Filipino bakery on Fan Tan Alley, the narrowest street in Canada, which is a fitting address for a shop that's mostly a counter and a case. You grab a tray and tongs and help yourself to whatever's fresh. The pandesal smell reaches the sidewalk before you reach the door, and the ube pastries leave purple evidence on your fingers. Cheap, casual, and strictly a bakery run, not a sit-down.

Goodside is a Fort Street pastry shop where the croissants have been given ideas, including one piped with coffee custard and a crème brûlée finish. The case also holds sculptural mousse blobs, and the focaccia sandwiches come wrapped in parchment, which is practically an invitation to a park bench. Chunky old television sets sit in the window, and you'll leave wearing a fine dusting of laminated dough.

Hortus is a Modern European restaurant on rue Saint-Jean, wedged between trinket shops and pubs, with a rooftop farm and bees whose honey you can sample for free. The menu runs from a thick beef burger to a duck confit poutine that outclasses its neighbors, and it handles gluten and nuts without fuss. The daily table d'hôte suits a lunch or dinner when you've seen enough fortifications.

A hotel restaurant near the airport that manages not to feel like one, Kokoma has tall ceilings, oversized woven chairs, and wide windows that make a long layover almost pleasant. The kitchen leans into Ivorian staples, turning cassava, fresh seafood, and palm nut stew into what the menu calls Afro fusion, though the food argues the case more quietly than the label does.

Le Mezzé is a family-run Greek taverna on the edge of Montcalm, boxy and comfortable in the way a place is when the family would rather spend their effort on the food than the decor. The menu goes well past the Greek salad and moussaka, and the wine list leans toward retsina and bottles from the Peloponnese and Limnos. Regulars order lamb chops or a whole fish by the pound, then finish with baklava made in-house by one of the owners.

Lumache is a sixteen-seat Italian pasta room where the water boils close enough to the tables that glasses fog, all of it lit by drippy candles and scored by yacht rock. There's a multi-course tasting, though ordering a la carte lets you keep better track of the damage. Seats vanish in monthly booking drops, so people sign up for the waitlist or show up at opening and plead, politely, with real conviction.

March is a tiny Cantonese spot where the chef works the kitchen solo, which means the pace is set by one person and her wok. She may roll in after you've been seated, and she may hand you a deck of Uno cards while the smashed cucumber salad comes together. In exchange, dishes land the second they're done, so the jian buns arrive scalding and the eggplant has the sticky-sweet edge of something fried too hard on purpose.

Nina is a casual Neapolitan pizzeria, and the pies come out in about 90 seconds, which is roughly how long it takes to decide between the housemade 'nduja and the rosemary ham. The cheeses come from nearby Charlevoix, and a natural-leaning red is on hand to go with them. There are two locations, one on the tourist-heavy rue St-Jean and one in St-Roch, plus delivery to your hotel for anyone who's given up on pants. Kids are welcome.

Red Fish Blue Fish is a converted shipping container on the Victoria waterfront, which makes it the rare seafood spot where the kitchen is also technically cargo. You order at the window, wait in a line that grows with the cruise ships, and eat standing at a ledge over the water with fish and chips, chowder, and fries that come with a spot prawn mayo. It's cheap, casual, and The Infatuation lists it among the best restaurants in Victoria.

Serena's is a counter-service pizza and hoagie shop on Fort Street that looks like a Philadelphia dive arrived by tornado and decided to stay. The mozzarella sticks wear a coat of crushed Doritos, and the cookies are roughly hubcap-sized. Order a single sausage slice on your way somewhere else, or haul home a few square pies and garlic knots for a group. The cheesesteak gets just enough whiz to season your lips.

Shiraz is a Persian restaurant in a stone-walled basement on Grande Allée, handy for a post-museum dinner when you'd like your culture followed by lamb. The owners will walk you through the menu and, if you linger, their life story, so budget the time. It's bring-your-own-bottle, the back room has hosted visiting singers, and the dizi arrives in two courses, which feels like a plot twist.

Tourist is a tiny wine bar on Blanshard where the reds come chilled and poured into stemware small enough to make you feel oversized. The cheeseburger and the mountain of fried potatoes are the move, and the bottles skew toward small-batch producers from Salt Spring Island. It's a shoebox lit by LED strips, so come after dark, when it looks like a mood board that got built.

This is a casual Trinidadian counter spot in a residential stretch of Saanich, where the roti arrives as a hefty pocket stuffed with turmeric-stained chana and potato or braised pork with a kick that rivals espresso. You eat in a room covered in a tropical mural, fizzy Tings in hand, while a throwback playlist runs on a loop that has absolutely, at some point, rickrolled you. It's lunch-priced and ready for jeans.

Uchida is a small, quiet Japanese lunch spot in downtown Victoria built around chirashi donburi, a bowl of raw fish over seasoned sushi rice. The albacore zuke, soaked in a mild marinade, is the move, and a tart green salad comes along for the ride. The room is so hushed the staff seem to be shelving the sashimi rather than serving it, which suits anyone recovering from the Bug Zoo down the block.

Vignoble Les Ouches is a seasonal winery on Île d'Orléans, a half-hour drive from Québec City, where you sip flights at picnic tables under umbrellas and look out over the vines. There's trout gravlax to go with the organic chardonnay and a pétanque court for when the wine kicks in. Dress code is whatever survived the drive, and kids and leashed dogs are welcome.