The Quiet Rivalries

Ottawa’s restaurant scene likes to pretend it’s collegial — a friendly little village of chefs who all clap for each other when the accolades come in. And sometimes, sure, it is. But sit through a few staff beers after service, and the curtain drops.

The rivalries don’t roar; they hum. They show up in the way a chef scrolls a feed and lingers on someone else’s glowing review, or in the forced smile at a gala when another name is called. They show up when a supplier “suddenly runs out” of something you’ve been buying for years, only to post a delivery to the competition. They show up in menus that echo each other a little too closely, in Instagram stories timed to overlap, in the quiet satisfaction of knowing who’s being talked about this week — and who isn’t.

None of it is loud enough to make headlines, but in a city this compact, nothing goes unnoticed. Every win lands like a pebble in a small pond, and the ripples travel fast. For all the talk of community, there’s always the undertow of comparison — who’s climbing, who’s stalling, who’s slipping behind.

Ottawa kitchens run hot. Pride, pressure, and ambition leave little room for indifference. Call it rivalry, call it hunger — either way, it keeps the knives sharp. And for diners, that edge is exactly what keeps the food interesting.