A finally came back from Mongolia and surprised us all with a last minute stopover in wonderful Montreal.
With too many people to meet yet too little time, A played mix and match and gathered us all for an evening of fine dining.
Her choice of rendez-vous? Grinder, the year old sanctuary of all the yuppies of Griffintown with carnivorous tendencies.
Tattooed sommeliers,
Beared waiters,
and an equally sleek and sexy crowd,
Grinder may not be spelled Grindr, but could easily have been.
Grinder or Grindr, the restaurant lives up to both names and offers a strong meat-focused menu. Tartares, shanks and chops are king in the venue. And we tried them all.
My personal favorite of the night: the duck tartare – a tender celebration of rawness with a taste of wasabi tickling up the nose and a few crunchy pine nuts for the tooth’s delight.
(And no, you won’t die from salmonella if you give it a try. Broadly speaking, contamination has to do with the way poultry is farmed and duck is processed differently than chicken. I’ll spare you the details, but if you’re interested – here)
In terms of sides, the grilled shrimp were excellent, with bites of a Portuguese chorizo that definitively stole the show. F.a.t.t.y. and spicy as we like it to be, the sausage complemented beautifully the fresh and juicy crustaceans.
All in all, a delightful evening in even grander company. Should you be in the neighborhood, make sure to hit up Grindr. I mean, Grinder.