Café Olimpico - Mile End — Restaurant in Montreal

Let me start by saying I normally love this place, and this review is really about my experience this weekend as opposed to the coffee and cake that we had. After lining up for 15 minutes, I came to ask for 1 double espresso, one black tea and a donut. The first response was, “we don’t have any black tea”. There was no apology and no attempt to offer something else in its place which I found a bit weird. Next he put the donut it a paper bag and I directly asked for it to be on a plate with a knife seeing as it was going to be shared and we were sitting in the cafe, not taking it to go. The response I got was “this is how we serve it on the weekend”. Finally I received my double espresso in a take away cup. I asked for it to be put in a proper cup instead and I was once again told “we don’t do such a thing on a weekend, we are too busy”. I’m really sorry but seriously? Unless you live in a cave, and even then perhaps, everyone is aware of the pressing environmental issues that we face. It’s great to be busy, but when you have guests who are sitting inside your cafe, you should be giving them their food and drinks on/in washable plates and cups. Not to do so is just simply too much of a waste, especially for a place which is as busy as cafe Olympico. Secondly, it annoyed me even more when I headed back to my table with my paper bag and take away cup when I saw other guests enjoying their coffee in an actual cup. So not only are you ignoring the waste you are causing but your message to your customers isn’t even consistent; this really aggravated me. Finally, if you are going to take the time to sit inside a cafe and really enjoy your coffee, especially a good Italian coffee, then a huge part of the experience is drinking that coffee from an actual cup, not a papery take away cup. I’m super disappointed and whilst their coffee is good, it has really dissuaded me...

So, I went to this coffee shop with my brother, thinking we’d just enjoy a nice, relaxing time. I order a cortado with extra hot milk—nothing too complicated, right? The "barista" (and I use that term loosely) hands me the coffee, and it tastes like... well, just milk. No coffee at all. So, I kindly mention it and ask if he could remake it. You know, a simple, polite request, right?

Well, apparently, this guy—who’s apparently now a "barista"—takes it as if I’ve personally insulted him. His primary role seemed to be taking orders and serving pastries, so how he got promoted to "barista" is a mystery. Instead of fixing the mistake, he tosses the coffee at me like I’ve just asked him for a free car. So, of course, I throw it back at him because, hey, why not?

That’s when the French guy—who had no clue what was going on—steps in and tells me to leave because, surprise, surprise, he’s the owner. He then hits me with the gem, “vous n'êtes pas chez vous ici," usually used by french racists ( specialy in france) to tell you this not your country based on you skin colour. Racist comments are always the best way to make customers feel welcome. Classic move.

But the fun doesn’t stop there! The barista—who somehow thinks this is a tough-guy movie—comes outside to provoke us. Because, clearly, escalating the situation was exactly what this coffee shop needed. I don’t even know how a place like this is still running with this level of unprofessionalism. It’s like letting teenagers and racists run the show.

So, to wrap it up, I’ll never be stepping foot in this disaster of a coffee shop again. And don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let everyone I know exactly what kind of establishment this is. They’ve earned every bad...

Cafe Olimpico: Where Dreams of Intellectualism Go to Perch (for Three Hours)

Ah, Cafe Olimpico. The jewel of Mile End, where the discarded youth of Laval flock to cosplay as literary giants. If you've ever yearned to witness the pinnacle of performative productivity, this is your Mecca. Here, the aroma of stale coffee mingles with the subtle scent of desperation from those trying to impress their imaginary agents.

The main attraction, of course, is the congregation of "aspiring" artists and "deep thinkers." They arrive, clutching their dog-eared copies of Infinite Jest (which they've definitely read beyond page 10), and settle in for their three-hour coffee ceremony. Don't expect scintillating conversation; the only audible sounds are the soft clatter of MacBooks and the occasional, deeply profound sigh.

The coffee itself? It's... coffee. But that's hardly the point, is it? You're not here for the caffeine; you're here for the ambiance. The priceless opportunity to observe young people in their natural habitat, meticulously crafting their online personas while appearing utterly detached from the world.

So, if you're looking for a quiet place to actually get some work done, keep walking. But if you're in the mood for a masterclass in hipster theatrics, grab a (lukewarm) latte, find a corner, and enjoy the show. Just try not to make eye contact; you might disrupt their carefully constructed aura of aloof...