I lived in Quebec from 1986 to 1998. Specifically, I lived in Montreal’s Cote-des-Neiges neighbourhood, a bustling, dynamically multicultural, rapidly growing part of town that was home to some of the most interesting people, shops, and eateries that I have ever encountered, anywhere.
It was in the diverse quarter of Cote-des-Neiges that I learned to love Jamaican patties and curried goat roti, soupe Tonkinoise (pho), Vietnamese coffee and banh mi (three for $5 back then), blintzes, knishes, challah bread, latkes, and rugelach, sashimi and sunomono salad, Hunan dumplings and honeycomb tripe, blue cheese and duck liver pate, chicken adobo and Filipino celebratory noodle dish, pancit bihon.
But all the while, underpinning my prolonged phase of cultural discovery, some culinary constants were quietly holding down the fort. A handful of distinctly Quebecois staples, dishes that I took for granted because they were ubiquitous and invariably well executed in even the most humble of diners, ingratiated themselves into my lifelong repertoire. There was cretons (the pungent pork spread that is fantastic on toast), tourtiere (seasoned meat and potato pie), tarte au sucre (sugar pie), smoked meat sandwiches, ludicrously inexpensive steamed hot dogs with vinegary coleslaw, and, the subject of this week’s column, the simultaneously revered and maligned poutine.
Ah, poutine. The name makes me smile and shake my head. It is at once the most absurdly unhealthy and decadent of regional specialties, and yet also among the tastiest. It is textural perfection crossed with nutritional disaster. It is the ultimate in rib-sticking comfort married with the ultimate in post-meal, rib-clutching discomfort. And this week I put it all on the line to get through six different versions of the widely adopted Quebec specialty in the name of research.
For those who don’t know what poutine is, behold the magical combination of ingredients involved: French fries (ideally skin-on), gravy (traditionally made from beef stock), and cheese curds (the infamous “squeaky cheese,” which is effectively just morsels of fresh pasteurized milk that has been curdled and roughly shaped into uneven nuggets). Cheese curds are a non-negotiable ingredient in poutine and should ideally be extremely fresh; aged curds will have absorbed moisture and lost both their characteristic squeaky texture against the teeth and some of their even melting ability.
I set out to try poutine along Lonsdale Avenue as I needed to narrow my focus somehow. What follows is not an exhaustive list either, as I was guided in my selection by published menus only, so there may be a hidden gem of a poutine out there somewhere that did not make this week’s column. This summary is also not ranked; it was not my goal to find a poutine “best in show,” though I did find a couple of clearly superior examples of the dish along the way.
So, in the order in which I tried them, here are Lonsdale’s poutine spots:
Donair Dude
This is perhaps the least intuitive destination for poutine on my list and yet offers one of the best versions I tasted for this column. Donair Dude’s “Donair Poutine” features a generous helping of fries, two packets of cheese curds (I estimate about 3 ounces of cheese), gravy ladled from a dedicated pot, and then your choice of donair chicken, lamb, or beef cut from the big spinning sticks. This riff on the classic is borderline genius and makes for a substantial meal for just $10. I opted to add chicken to the poutine and was treated to a veritable mountain of meat atop an already weighty base of fries, gravy, and cheese. I had the foresight to ask for a hit of hot sauce atop the dish as well and relished the vinegary heat as a counterpoint to the richness of the dish. 1709 Lonsdale. Donairdude.com. 604-770-4431.
The Portly Chef
Chef-owner Jeff Batt’s Portly Poutine is a subtle and accomplished variation on the classic, not straying too far from canonical poutine but introducing just enough personal flair to set it apart. As with all of Chef Batt’s dishes, everything in the poutine is made from scratch (save the cheese, I assume) including two distinct gravies with incredible depth of flavour. The traditional brown gravy was enhanced with peppercorns, which added complexity, and there was a dollop of second white sauce (perhaps a mornay?) that contributed to a velvety richness throughout the dish. The curds were generously applied and melted nicely, and the whole lot was topped with strands of pickled purple onion that brought some balance to the roundness of the dish. Overall a refined and elegant iteration for $14. 1211 Lonsdale. Theportlychef.com. 604-971-4377.
Tap & Barrel
I have reviewed Tap & Barrel Shipyard’s Pulled Bacon Poutine once before in a brunch review. I was duly impressed with the dish then but this time around I ordered it in the evening, so sans eggs. The dish remains a unique and appealing variation of poutine with a significant portion of smoky pulled bacon, set atop fries and gravy. Having had the benefit of both iterations of the dish (brunch and dinner) I must conclude that the brunch version is the winner, as the yolks of the eggs contribute some viscosity to the gravy, which I found this time to be a touch thin on its own. Still, Tap & Barrel’s poutine is a hearty dish and a must for bacon fanatics. $14. 8 Lonsdale. Tapandbarrel.com. 604-638-2339
Raglans Bistro
Leave it to the always fun and irreverent Raglans to riff on poutine four different ways: traditional, veggie (with mushrooms, spinach and peppers in miso gravy), pulled pork (with aged cheddar), and ancho chicken. I selected the latter, made with crispy fries, chunks of ancho spiced grilled chicken, chopped scallions, bacon, chipotle seasoned sour cream, and a nest of crispy breaded onions. It was a ludicrously rich but outstanding poutine, especially after I mixed all the toppings together into the base so that every bite was laden with a bit of everything. The crispy onions were inspired and the kitchen was far from shy with the cheese. This was a unique and good value poutine at $15.
The District Brasserie
I had not been to The District since the departure of former chef/owner/founder Paul Mon-Kau last year. My Lonsdale poutine crawl gave me a reason to drop in. Not surprisingly, given the venue’s Belgian roots, the fries on the poutine were the best of the lot: skin-on, crispy, salted prior to saucing, and slightly sweet. The menu boasts a 12-hour gravy on the “Really French Canadian” poutine. Regrettably my order was sparse on the gravy, with not enough to melt all the cheese thoroughly. From what I could ascertain, the gravy had good depth of flavour and, if ladled a bit more generously, I could see The District’s version being the most faithful interpretation of the classic dish. $11. 13 Lonsdale Avenue. Eatatdistrict.com. 778-338-4938.
Queen’s Cross
There is some irony in a traditional English pub serving a decidedly French dish, but I suppose we can look at poutine as Canadian, more broadly speaking, and think of it in the context of the Commonwealth (some will vehemently disagree with this idea, I understand). The Cross offers a Beer-Battered Poutine, meaning the plank shaped fries are battered before deep frying, resulting in a crispy shell-like coating that helps the potatoes to withstand the gravy. Here, the gravy is a deep mahogany brown beef-based sauce, thick and rich in meaty flavor; the gravy made me think of the traditional beef dip jus, only thicker. $10. 2989 Lonsdale. 604-980-7715.
PSA: if you are a true poutine connoisseur and want a traditional version that holds up to the Quebec benchmark, you’d do well to head to the West End to try out La Belle Patate. Originally founded in Esquimalt by a Montreal expat who knows his Quebecois fast food, La Belle Patate doles out the most authentic poutine I have found outside of La Belle Province. 1215 Davie Street, Vancouver. Westcoastpoutine.wixsite.com. 604-569-1215.
