Not in Ottawa. Lots of outdoor chip trucks and chip stands in the summer, all selling that glorious “heart attack on a plate”.
Yeah, but like Beaver Tails and maple sugar candy, there’s the right time and the wrong time. I can handle poutine about twice a year, and the beginning and middle of winter are those times.
And now that I’m home, I’m going to go curl up in a little ball and whimper for a few hours.
(The poutine is from the Elgin Street Diner, by the way. While I was there, I overheard someone at another table order poutine with double curd and double gravy. You couldn’t see the fries on the plate.)
Guauuugggh, poutine. We were not free from its greasy allure in Maine! Somehow, the phone camera (or whatever) suits it.
Such a beautiful picture spoiled by thougts of George W. Bush. He confused your Prime Minister with that food once.
Gah, you evil evil man. Now I feel incredibly homesick.
On the upside, I did have really fantastic okonomiyaki for lunch. So NYEAH.
I discovered this great okonomiyaki place upstairs from the McDonald’s near work. Boy were they ever surprised to see a white guy walk in—the McDonald’s generally functions amazingly well as a gaijin trap, it seems. But they were very nice and even gave me both editions of the menu: the menu in Japanese, Korean and English; and the menu in Japanese only, with much lower prices and many more items on it.
At the diner last night, I had hash browns smothered in gravy. I’m working my way north- and poutineward!
“smoked meat”. it’s a frightening phrase that keeps recurring with you Eastern Canadian types.
It’s in the same family as corned beef and pastrami but it’s a bit more heavily seasoned than those, mostly Eastern European Jewish influence. I wonder if a beef brisket would make it across the border OK.
13 responses to “Un mets typiquement Quebecois”
There’s a season to poutine?
“Winter”, generally. :)
Not in Ottawa. Lots of outdoor chip trucks and chip stands in the summer, all selling that glorious “heart attack on a plate”.
Yeah, but like Beaver Tails and maple sugar candy, there’s the right time and the wrong time. I can handle poutine about twice a year, and the beginning and middle of winter are those times.
And now that I’m home, I’m going to go curl up in a little ball and whimper for a few hours.
(The poutine is from the Elgin Street Diner, by the way. While I was there, I overheard someone at another table order poutine with double curd and double gravy. You couldn’t see the fries on the plate.)
Guauuugggh, poutine. We were not free from its greasy allure in Maine! Somehow, the phone camera (or whatever) suits it.
OMG. NEVER EATING AGAIN. TOO MUCH CURD AND GRAVY.
It’s like you can see it SQUIRM.
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1102027809778&call_pageid=968332188492
Such a beautiful picture spoiled by thougts of George W. Bush. He confused your Prime Minister with that food once.
Gah, you evil evil man. Now I feel incredibly homesick.
On the upside, I did have really fantastic okonomiyaki for lunch. So NYEAH.
I discovered this great okonomiyaki place upstairs from the McDonald’s near work. Boy were they ever surprised to see a white guy walk in—the McDonald’s generally functions amazingly well as a gaijin trap, it seems. But they were very nice and even gave me both editions of the menu: the menu in Japanese, Korean and English; and the menu in Japanese only, with much lower prices and many more items on it.
At the diner last night, I had hash browns smothered in gravy. I’m working my way north- and poutineward!
“smoked meat”. it’s a frightening phrase that keeps recurring with you Eastern Canadian types.
It’s in the same family as corned beef and pastrami but it’s a bit more heavily seasoned than those, mostly Eastern European Jewish influence. I wonder if a beef brisket would make it across the border OK.