Hotel dining is usually as predictable as a rainy Tuesday in the Cotswolds. You go in expecting "very okay" food, and at La Palma, that’s exactly what you get. It’s solid, dependable, and won't leave you questioning your life choices. But the real reason to go isn't the menu—it’s the marvelous incompetence of the bar. I happen to like Port. It’s the drink of kings, retired colonels, and people who have given up on the idea of waking up without a headache. I saw a Port-based cocktail on the menu and, using the flawless logic of a man who knows what he wants, I assumed that if they had it in a cocktail, they had it in a bottle. So, I asked for a Port. The bartender, however, clearly decided that my request was far too simple. In a magnificent display of linguistic confusion, he didn't bring me a glass of fortified wine; he brought me a Porto Sour. Normally, when a man asks for a drink and receives a science experiment in a glass, there is a scene. But this... this was different. It was the "best mistake ever." It was as if the bartender had looked into my soul and realized I didn't actually want what I’d asked for. It was so good, in fact, that I immediately ordered another one. So if you are in Montreal for business and need to impress someone without the risk of a disastrous meal, La Palma is a safe bet. But my advice? Don't bother with the menu. Just go to the bar, look confused, and hope the bartender makes another "mistake."