Despite raving reviews from trusted friends, I discovered Hélicoptère way too late, through a pop-up night where they invited the crew from Restaurant Pompette. That March evening during Montréal en lumière, watching Toronto’s Martine Bauer work alongside David Ollu in the open kitchen, felt like witnessing a conversation between old friends who happened to speak in vegetables and vinaigrettes. Since then, I’ve returned four times, each visit revealing new layers of what makes this Hochelaga corner so magnetic.
The tasting menu is the way to go here—generous portions of sharing plates that showcase what Hélicoptère has quietly perfected over its seven years. Those oyster mushrooms everyone mentions? They deserve every word. Paired with onions, feta mousse, and buttered croutons, they achieve that subtle balance where technique serves flavor rather than showing off. During my June visit, white asparagus appeared with a precision that made some other restaurants’ seasonal offerings feel rushed by comparison.
Hélicoptère deserves credit for how it wears its philosophy lightly. Yes, they work with dedicated local producers like La Pelletée farm. Yes, everything from the bread (now from their own Aube bakery) to the sauces is made in-house. But everything feels genuine. When the chefs emerge from the kitchen to deliver plates themselves, it’s simply how they’ve always done things, born from genuine enthusiasm rather than calculated charm.
The space itself has evolved beautifully since my first visit. Recent renovations have transformed the dining room into something even more special—peaceful yet alive, with a refined serenity that enhances rather than mutes the energy. The new configuration maintains what makes the space special: intimate enough for conversation, bustling enough to generate that particular electricity that makes you lean in and pay attention. It’s the kind of room that makes you unconsciously lower your voice, not from intimidation but from respect for the moment being created.
Seven years in, Hélicoptère has settled into what it was always meant to be: a neighborhood restaurant that happens to execute at a level that draws from across the city. That they’ve expanded their empire—adding Café Hélico next door, Aube bakery, and the dimly lit Copilote bar in what was once a dépanneur—speaks to ambition tempered by patience.
Some will say Hochelaga-Maisonneuve is having a moment. But restaurants like Hélicoptère suggest something more lasting is taking root in the neighborhood. Forget about gentrification or trend-chasing. This is just talented people choosing to build something meaningful where rents still allow for experimentation and community connection. Every return visit confirms my initial suspicion: this corner of Ontario Est harbors one of Montreal’s most essential restaurants, hidden in plain sight, getting better—and growing up—with each passing season.