So Gentile We Go
A journey inside Montreal’s Café Gentile and the dream that started a legacy
There is a warm feeling of days gone by that hits you as you pass through the door of Café Gentile. It strikes, conveniently, at the same instant that the scent of freshly ground espresso beans fills the air. As you are welcomed, someone offers you a seat and a coffee with an open smile, you sense that you’ve stumbled into a home. A home in some Italian city, perhaps—because the stainless-steel bar top and wood paneling recall a historic bar in centro, the kind where you once sipped a cappuccino on a family vacation, now etched into memory. Or maybe it’s an old Manhattan joint, with its twisting mosaic tiles and leather booths, reminiscent of the trattoria where you shared a plate of fresh tagliatelle with someone you hadn’t seen in years.
In the corner, a preserved, plastic-wrapped heirloom sofa offers a clue to whose home this really is. It belonged to Nonna Anna, the matriarch of the Gentile family, who came to Montreal from Sicily in 1954. Above it, on a deep navy wall, hangs a proud collection of original family photos, dating back to those early immigrant days.
Café Gentile in Westmount, just west of downtown, has “only” existed since 2016. Its adjoining pizzeria, filled with nostalgic ’80s décor and lounge lighting, opened in 2020. But the Gentile family story stretches back much further.
Ignazio Gentile and Anna Campo opened the original Café Gentile in 1959 on Parc Ave in Montreal’s Chabanel garment district. There, the café became a gathering spot for the city’s fashion workers, artists, and neighbors alike. Known for its famous iced tea, chicken cutlet sandwich and iconic coffee. It was a true neighborhood staple. The clientele was loyal, the food classic, and the work ethic fierce.
Their son Antonino took the reins early and, with his wife Teresa Marabella, cemented the Café’s reputation as a community fixture. Together, they raised their children in the business. Quite literally—upstairs from the café was home, and the family’s heartbeat pulsed through every corner of the space.
All three children, Paolo, Anthony, and Anna Maria, eventually became part of the business. One led the charge at the original Chabanel location, the other two expanded to Westmount, and infused hospitality into every guest interaction. Now, the fourth generation, Anthony Paul and Joseph, have started working too, often seen behind the counter or in the kitchen. The boys are learning not just how to serve, but how to uphold the values passed down to them. Café Gentile remains, as it always has, a full-blown family affair.
“Recipes are not just instructions; they are stories. Every bite tells a story of family, of sacrifice, of joy.”
“What got us here was passion, hard work, and determination—and we’ve gotta stick to those principles,” says Anthony Gentile. “We can evolve, but we have to keep our roots, our culture. It’s about kindness, community, and putting love into everything we do. That is what our parents and grandparents taught us.”
That love is evident everywhere. The menu now includes dinner, featuring revered family recipes like Teresa’s veal and ricotta meatballs and traditional eggplant parmigiana. Pasta is handmade by a fellow Sicilian, and the pizza too. Even the brunch menu nods to tradition, with Nonna Teresa’s Frittata and “Pancakes alla Buona,” described as “Fresh berries, orange zest mascarpone, maple vanilla coulis, and a ton of love.” Every dish reflects a legacy of food made with intention and memory. Teresa’s recipes, once passed on verbally, are now written down—but the magic remains. Sunday lunch at her house is still a family ritual. It is when the whole family- cousins, aunts, uncles and Nonna and Nonno gathers without fail. Phones go down. Plates pile high. And laughter spills out from the dining room, the same way it did fifty years ago. When Teresa visits the restaurant, her pride is evident as she looks around the dining room—and out to the terrace in summer—at a full house. Food has always been the thread that ties the family together. Recipes are not just instructions, they are stories. Every bite tells a story of family, of sacrifice, of joy.
“What matters to me is that our customers feel like they belong,” says Anthony. “It’s the little things that make a place feel like home.” That welcoming energy flows through the entire staff of 70 to 80 people. Whether it’s a quick check-in, an unexpected recommendation, or remembering a regular’s dog’s name, Gentile’s spirit of hospitality feels personal. “We’ve watched kids grow up here,” says Anna Maria. “Some came in as babies and now they’re graduating high school. That’s the kind of bond we’re proud of.” The restaurant’s interior, with its retro details, mosaic floors, and green-checkered menus, was designed to feel timeless—and it does. Whether you’re grabbing a solo espresso at the bar or gathering around a table with extended family, Café Gentile invites you to stay a while.
Later this year, the family is proud to share that they will be opening a brand new location in the West Island, combining the café and pizzeria under one roof. The design will reflect the same warm, lived-in feel. The design will stay true to Gentile’s roots thanks to the collaborations between Atelier Zebulon Perron’s signature look of the Westmount location and Italo Di Pietro of Anonymous Concepts, who will bring a fresh, heartfelt vision to the newest space. At its heart, the expansion is not about growth for the sake of but about sharing the spirit of Gentile with more communities. “Our goal for the West Island location is for the guests to feel the same warmth and togetherness that defines our Italian family gatherings,” says Anthony. “We want it to feel like Sunday lunch at Nonna’s -where there is always a place at the table and everyone is treated like famiglia. Exactly the way my parents taught us.” So after you finish eating a comforting plate of their signature dish such as their eggplant parmigiana and a sweet ending -a zesty lemon drop -take one last glance at the emblem above the door: the Trinacria, Sicily’s three-legged symbol of Medusa. It’s a reminder of where it all began—and the family that still welcomes you in, like one of their own. They beckon, “Try it. You like it? Come with us, we’re around.”
