Poutine Quest II

Seeing as how I spent essentially all of my adult life in la belle province, and seeing as how I have a friend who wanted to eat with impunity throughout her pregnancy, we decided some months ago that it would be a good idea for us to hunt down the best poutine in the city. Strange rumours abound: Costco? Dangerous Dan's? I warily read reviews upon reviews of poutine (sceptical of Ontarians' take on the Quebec classic) and then set off with my trusty sidekick to eat some goddamned poutine. The verdict?

Dangerous Dan's: Excellent classic squeaky curds. The portion was huge, the fries frozen, the sauce brune overly thick: Thumbs down.

The Chinese/Canadian joint with homemade burgers on the west side of Coxwell just north of Gerrard: Fresh-cut fries. Excellent. Mozarella (I do not approve, but my dining partner gushes at the fromage fondant). The weird thing was the gravy. It was clearly homemade but it had an unmistakeable and regrettable sweetness. The owner proudly explained that it was basil. Unfortunately: Go back for the fries, try the burger, avoid the poutine at all costs.

British Style Fish & Chips: (Full disclosure: This fish & chips joint tops my list.) (Yes, I am also on a Fish & Chips quest.) (My longest-standing quest is for hot and sour soup.) (Suggestions welcome.) British Style was easily the best of the three. They did have curds, albeit of that odd variety of intensely flavoured cheddar (purists out there—is this wrong?). The sous chef is a Quebecker who wheels and deals to work cheese curd miracles. The gravy? Excellent. Thick, but not too thick, salty, but not too salty. The classic poutine brown. A thing of beauty. Also to be mentioned are British Style’s fries, and here is where the trouble lies. Their fries are a force to be reckoned with. However, based on this one experience, it seems as though the fries are fried in the same oil used for the fish. It isn’t something you’d notice when eating a classic fish and chips meal, but in the context of poutine (and sauce brune), there’s something a little odd. That said, it was still my hands-down winner. But the quest doesn’t end there…

I have a source who scoped out Costco and their reputedly amazing poutine, but he claims that reports of its superiority are greatly exaggerated.

So, killing time on Yonge between St. Clair and Summerhill, I noticed that the lovely Rebel House boasted a true curd-based poutine. And off I went.

It was the oddest poutine I have ever had. Odder even than the basil inflected poutine on Coxwell. First, the fries aren’t even remotely fry-shaped: Slightly thicker than bagged potato chips, they are essentially chips and essentially the same temperature. The curds did appear to be curds (of the British Style extreme cheddar variety), but it was hard to be sure, given their lack of integrity due to the heat of the sauce.

Right. The sauce.

It almost knocked me off my chair. I was eating bacon. Bacon sauce.

Upon consideration, I realized that no pigs had in fact been harmed in the making of this sauce. It was a typical sauce brune that had been jazzed up with a dollop of hickory smoke.

WILL SOMEBODY TELL THESE CHEFS THAT POUTINE DOESN’T NEED JAZZING UP ALREADY!??!?!! Forget your godawful three-pepper sauce. Forget your shiitake mushroom sauce. (And while you're at it forget your bacon and your hickory smoke.) It’s real simple: Take some potatoes. Turn them into french fries. Take some sauce. Make it brown. Throw some squeaky cheese on top. If you must jazz it up, you may: Add chicken, small peas, ground beef, onions, or a combination thereof. Although I strongly advise against it, you may: Replace the sauce brune with spaghetti sauce. That’s it.

Next time you’re in Montreal, head up to Laurier and St. Denis, walk into the building with the conspicuous orange siding (Chez Claudette) and order a petite poutine avec des petits poids. You won’t regret it.