Schwartz's signature is Montreal-style smoked meat: beef brisket cured for ten days in a blend of cracked peppercorns, coriander, garlic, and mustard seed, then smoked to a mahogany finish and steamed until the fat renders into silk. Customers order by richness -- lean, medium, medium-fat, or fat -- with medium and medium-fat the overwhelming favorites. Mordecai Richler, Montreal's great literary chronicler of Main Street life, described the deli's spice blend in his novel Barney's Version as a 'maddening aphrodisiac' worthy of being bottled and copyrighted as 'Nectar of Judea.' But the deli's influence extends beyond its own sandwich. In the 1940s, a Schwartz's broilerman named Morris Sherman -- known around the kitchen as 'The Shadow' -- started rubbing the house pickling spices onto rib steaks and liver. The flavor was so compelling that other Montreal restaurants copied it, and what became known as Montreal steak seasoning eventually spread to grocery shelves across North America.

The deli's ownership history reads like a Montreal novel. Reuben Schwartz, by most accounts a difficult man -- a boozer, gambler, and womanizer whose own family could barely stand him -- ran the place until 1971. His successor was Maurice Zbriger, a violinist and composer who had gradually become Schwartz's partner. Zbriger took Reuben into his own home and gave him the title 'manager for life.' When Zbriger died in 1981, the deli passed to Armande Toupin Chartrand, a professional organizer who had become his caretaker and was willed the business for her devotion. Each owner kept the same recipe, the same cramped quarters, and the same refusal to expand. In 2012, a group that included singer Celine Dion and her husband Rene Angelil purchased Schwartz's -- an ironic twist, since the couple had previously been loyal customers of the rival Main Deli Steak House directly across the street.

When Quebec's Charter of the French Language -- the fiercely debated Bill 101 -- became law in 1977, Schwartz's found itself on the front lines of a linguistic battle fought over sandwich boards and signage. The deli's exterior was forcibly changed from 'Hebrew Delicatessen' to 'Charcuterie Hebraique de Montreal.' The Office quebecois de la langue francaise then went after the apostrophe in the establishment's name and targeted stores selling imported kosher goods with non-compliant labels, actions the Jewish community perceived as unfair targeting. The most absurd skirmish came when language authorities tried to force delis to replace 'Smoked Meat' with 'Boeuf Marine' on their menus. Schwartz's and its fellow delicatessens fought the ruling on appeal, successfully arguing that renaming their product would confuse and anger customers. Even Parti Quebecois MNA Gerald Godin ordered his sandwich by its English name. In 1987, 'smoked meat' officially became a term accepted in both of Canada's official languages.

Montreal's smoked-meat landscape has been thinning for decades, and Schwartz's stubborn commitment to in-house preparation is a large reason it survives while rivals have fallen. Bens De Luxe Delicatessen, a storied competitor that opened in 1908, closed in 2006 after switching to pre-cooked smoked meat from an outside supplier in 1992 -- a cost-cutting measure that customers tasted immediately. The Main Deli Steak House, which opened directly across the street in 1974 and became Schwartz's fiercest rival, shut down in 2023 after making the same fateful switch in 2013. The Brown Derby and Quebec Smoked Meat followed similar trajectories. Schwartz's has refused every franchise offer, every relocation proposal, and every temptation to industrialize its process. The restaurant did open a takeout counter next door in 2008 for those unwilling to brave the dining room line, but the meat comes from the same kitchen. In 2025, Quebec's inaugural Michelin Guide awarded Schwartz's a 'Recommended' designation -- a modest accolade, perhaps, but official recognition of what the lineup around the block has been saying since 1928.