Matthieu Pepper Opens Montreal Bagel Shop as Celebrity Food Trend Grows

It’s no secret that more and more celebrities are getting into the restaurant business. Some are co-branding with their existing social media brand, others are starting from scratch, and some are simply buying into established spots and giving them a new chapter.

Recently, Montreal’s own Arhoma, the well-known artisanal bakery loved for its breads and pastries, was purchased by former NFL player Laurent Duvernay-Tardif and Sasha Ghavami. It was one of those local business moves that felt both surprising and perfectly aligned with Montreal’s deep food culture.

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And now, another unexpected name has entered the mix.

Quebec comedian, actor, and screenwriter Matthieu Pepper has announced a new project that has nothing to do with comedy or culture, at least not directly. In a recent Instagram reveal, he shared that he is launching a bagel shop in Hochelaga-Maisonneuve focused on bagels, coffee, and sandwiches.

What makes the announcement even more interesting is Pepper’s own honesty about it. He makes it clear from the start that he is not an entrepreneur by trade. Instead, he has brought in five experienced partners to handle the business side, while he focuses on bringing the concept to life creatively. It’s a very “stay in your lane, but still show up” kind of approach.

The project, first reported by Silo57, still does not have an official opening date, but it has already tapped into something very Montreal: bagels are not just food here, they are identity.

Because in this city, bagels come with history, rivalry, and a little bit of mythology.

Montreal bagels have their own lore built over more than a century. The story begins with baker Isadore Shlafman, who opened the first bakery in 1919 in a back alley on Saint-Laurent Boulevard before moving operations to Fairmount Avenue. That legacy still echoes today in institutions like Fairmount Bagel and St-Viateur Bagel, where the city’s bagel identity has been shaped, defended, and fiercely debated for generations.

And the stories around them are just as iconic as the bagels themselves.

There are Space Bagels. In 2008, astronaut Greg Chamitoff, cousin to the owners of Fairmount Bagel, brought 18 bagels to the International Space Station. Montreal bagels are officially leaving Earth orbit.

There is the “no locks” legend. Fairmount Bagel famously operated for decades without a lock on its front door, staying open 24/7 in a way that felt less like a business and more like a neighbourhood constant.

There is even the denture story. According to legend, the popularity of sesame bagels at Fairmount took off in 1952 after an elderly customer complained that poppy seeds kept getting stuck in their dentures. One small complaint, one city-wide shift.

And then there’s the craft itself, which is part of what makes Montreal bagels so distinct. They are hand-rolled, boiled in honey-sweetened water, and baked in wood-fired ovens. The result is smaller, denser, slightly sweet, and lightly smoky. They are not really designed for restraint.

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Even the language around them is its own culture. “All-dressed” here does not mean a pizza-style everything situation. It means poppy seeds, sesame seeds, garlic, onion, and salt all working together in perfect chaos. And unlike elsewhere, there is no strict rule that bagels need cream cheese to be valid. In Montreal, they are often eaten hot, straight from the oven, no extras required.

Then there is the friendly rivalry that never really settles. The so-called “bagel war” between St-Viateur and Fairmount has been running for decades, with no clear winner, only strong opinions. It’s part competition, part tradition, and part neighbourhood loyalty.

St-Viateur itself carries a layered history, founded by Jewish Holocaust survivor Myer Lewkowicz and now run by Joe Morena, an Italian-Montrealer, reflecting the city’s ongoing cultural blend that shows up most clearly in its food.

And like many Montreal staples, bagels here are social currency. People bring them to parties, use them as peace offerings, or, in some cases, as the unofficial “bribe” when you need help moving apartments.

So when someone like Matthieu Pepper steps into that world, even cautiously and with a team behind him, it is not just another celebrity food project. It is a move into one of Montreal’s most protected, most personal food traditions.

And in this city, that is never just business.