Biscuit Note #2 Heni

Eighteen months is enough time for a restaurant to reveal its true nature. Opening night energy dissipates, and what remains is either a place that matters or one that doesn’t. Heni, tucked into Little Burgundy’s quiet stretch of Notre-Dame West, belongs firmly in the first category.

My first meal at Heni intrigued me with its ambitious concept—SWANA cuisine through a Quebec lens—and while promising, it felt like reading the opening chapter of a larger story. But returning through winter’s grip, then spring’s awakening, and then all over again, I discovered a restaurant finding its voice with each season. Each visit revealed new dimensions: refined techniques, bolder flavor combinations, and creative interpretations that transformed familiar ingredients into something entirely their own.

Canada’s 100 Best recently confirmed what regular diners already knew, placing Heni on their 2025 list. It’s deserved recognition for a restaurant that refuses to take shortcuts. Chef Julien Robillard treats North African and Southwest Asian traditions not as exotic curiosities but as living cuisines worthy of deep respect and playful evolution. His kibbeh nayyeh arrives not as fusion confusion but as conversation—P.E.I. beef meets wild garlic in a way that honors both Lebanon and the Saint Lawrence.

What strikes me most after many visits is how the kitchen has grown into its own skin. Early dishes that felt like careful studies have transformed into confident statements. The flatbread, baked to order in their imported Lebanese oven, has evolved from good to transcendent. Seasonal vegetables, once supporting players, now command attention through fermentation techniques that would make any Lebanese Teta jealous.

The service team embodies something special about Montreal’s next generation of hospitality. Young, yes, but not amateur—they move through the dining room with the easy confidence of people who genuinely love what they do. Watch them explain a dish’s origins or guide someone through the wine list’s Lebanese valleys, and you’ll see passion that can’t be taught. They remember faces, preferences, the way you liked that orange wine last time.

Speaking of wine, the program deserves its own moment. The owners also run Sienna Wines, importing primarily from Lebanon, and this direct connection shows in every pour. Ordering blindly from their suggestions has become my favorite game there—discovering Bekaa Valley whites that upend assumptions.

The tasting menu tells stories through five courses, weaving between countries and centuries while keeping one foot planted in Quebec soil. But the à la carte option offers its own pleasures for those seeking wine bar casualness. Either way, you’re getting food that respects tradition while pushing forward.

Downstairs, Salon Badin offers the perfect epilogue. This 24-seat listening lounge, accessed through Heni’s front door (look for the green light), feels like discovering a secret. Vinyl spins, cocktails arrive with their own narratives, and suddenly midnight feels too early to leave.

In a city where restaurants often chase trends or rest on tradition, Heni occupies its own category. Neither purely traditional nor aggressively modern, it’s something more valuable: coherent, evolving, necessary. A place where Quebec’s present meets the Mediterranean’s past, where young energy serves ancient wisdom.

Visit after visit, my notes have shifted from questions to exclamations. This is what happens when a restaurant earns its place in your rotation—it stops being somewhere you go and becomes part of how you live in a city. Heni has earned that place, one perfectly seasoned bite at a time.