For years, from one pop-up to the next, Wen Zhang, has been stringing a thread between Chinese tea culture and that of North American caf\u00e9s. Her project, Th\u00e9 Jinjin, finally has a space of its own, in the Plateau-Mont-Royal, and you understand the moment you walk in that none of it was improvised: this is the outcome of a long build.<\/p>\n
The Tea Road, All the Way to Montr\u00e9al<\/p>\n
Before Th\u00e9 Jinjin, Wen studied food science at university, then veered toward dining rooms rather than a lab. The idea for the tea house came out of a simple observation. \u201cThe market is either you drink grocery store tea, or you have to know a lot about it,\u201d she says. \u201cI wanted to create an in-between, so tea would be more accessible.\u201d The name comes from her friend Jinjin, who drew the two-horse logo, a nod to the ancient tea horse road and to the very animals that carried the leaves. In Chinese, \u6d25\u6d25 describes the movement of water as much as an interest so keen it makes you salivate.<\/p>\n
The menu holds up that promise. You land halfway between the matcha trend of the moment, which serves as something of a way in, and Chinese tradition, which covers the rest of the distance.<\/p>\n
The tea is imported from China, the matcha<\/a> comes from Japan, and it is one of the best matchas you can get in the city. The crowd favourite is the strawberry and earl grey matcha. Ours is the summer honey matcha with pu-erh. That last ingredient is a fermented, aged tea whose earthy, woody notes complement the green sharpness of the matcha, and the pinch of salt added at the finish makes the ideal bridge between the two. \u201cI don\u2019t want tea to be intimidating,\u201d Wen explains. \u201cBefore, maybe you didn\u2019t know what pu-erh was, and now I\u2019m putting it in your glass.\u201d<\/p>\n L\u2019Honn\u00eate Kid in the Kitchen<\/p>\n The food is signed by Elliot Latendresse, Wen\u2019s partner, alias L\u2019honn\u00eate Kid<\/a>. The nickname comes from Wen\u2019s father: his English is rough, and for the whole of Elliot\u2019s stay at her parents\u2019 place, he split the world between the bad guys and that honest kid. Elliot francized half of it to fit Montr\u00e9al.<\/p>\n His cooking borrows from the classics of Hong Kong tea houses, those dishes westernized a first time in Hong Kong rather than here. The condensed milk French toast, stuffed with peanut butter and topped with a forthright slab of butter, sums up the exercise: traditional in its reference, cheeky in its execution.<\/p>\n Everything in the Th\u00e9 Jinjin room was designed by the couple, from the choice of furniture down to the coasters made by Wen\u2019s uncle. Nothing here is decorative in the lazy sense of the word. The address will eventually extend its hours for evening service, with a broader savoury menu still put together by Elliot and a wine list.<\/p>\n For now, the wave of attention is such that a line forms at the corner of Marie-Anne and Drolet from Thursday to Sunday. The duo has had to adjust to a popularity that arrived all at once, and they are set on rising to the challenge. \u201cI feel like I\u2019m creating a third place,\u201d Wen says. \u201cSome people eat, others write in their journal, others work on their laptop. It\u2019s a free space for everyone.\u201d The day the dust settles, the third place idea will firm up: somewhere you take your time, where you enjoy a hot cup and a good book without anyone rushing you.<\/p>\n \n Written by Jean-Philippe Tastet \n Updated on September 05, 2026<\/p>\n Make a suggestion\n <\/p>\n
Photography by Alison Slattery
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