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Tracking down Montreal's best poutine
by Ginger Jacobs
Here's the thing about poutine: it's kind of gross.
Now, before our dear readers get up in arms about this slander of Quebec culture, consider the origins of the dish itself. A fellow decided to put his cheese curds and his fries together, and an onlooker commented that it would make "une maudite poutine" - a goddamn mess.
That mess is now our province's signature dish, beloved as much for its rakish disregard of arterial health as for its actual taste. It's the kind of evil that leaves you simultaneously disgusted and completely incapable of laying down your grease-covered fork.
The difficulty with organising a poutine tasting is that you must put down the fork eventually. Unlike smoked meat, bagels, or even beer, too much poutine can make one feel the kind of sick that, like fine wine and funny jokes, utterly defies description. And so while my intrepid group of guinea pigs and I planned to hit as many as four or five joints, including Lafleur and the famous foie gras poutine at Au Pied du Cochon, we hit critical mass after three of the city's most acclaimed friteries.
La Belle Province
Poutine is nothing if not unpretentious, and La Belle Province's roadside casse-croûte-inspired design provides the perfect backdrop to indulge in the delicacy.
Sadly, LBP failed to live up to its reputation as the standard bearer in the poutine world. The dish is all about balance; you want your fromage to fait qua qua, but also to melt in with the gravy. This was all squeak and no string. The group was also unimpressed with the sauce's unpleasant barbecue zing.
Mondo Fritz
"Holy!" Maureen exclaimed, as our order landed with a substantial thump on the countertop.
The chef smiled. "That's what I like to hear," he replied.
It's the kind of evil that leaves you simultaneously disgusted and
completely incapable of laying down your grease-covered fork.
We were standing counter-side because, as is often the case at Mondo Fritz, anything larger than a table for two was hard to come by. No matter: the bench by the tombstones across the street is, er, just as good.
This contender definitely made the top of the list in decadence, with its thick, meaty gravy and generous helpings of gooey cheese. Everyone liked the flavour, but agreed that the curds were too melted and the fries too soggy, giving it an almost soupy consistency.
La Banquise
The menu here offers over 20 poutine variations (including one with hot dog - shudder), but we decided that "La Classique" would be the best judge of quality.
The consensus was that we had finally found the right balance of melting and squeaking, although Dave and Sue agreed that the dish would benefit from more sauce. Maureen thought it was the most sophisticated plate of the night, with nice presentation and a salty, subtle gravy. The atmosphere was also very pleasant and relaxed, with a killer terrasse in the back.
And the winner is...
La Banquise came out on top by a unanimous vote. La Belle Province was the decided loser; "it tasted like it came out of a can," said Lara. The group reserved some affection for the nacho-esque extravagance of Mondo Fritz: "If I were drunk, depressed, or pregnant, that one would just be amazing," Maureen declared. La Banquise won out on the basics, paying close attention to balance and the quality of the fry; and if we could enjoy the last stop in a very messy evening, you know it's got to be good.
Ginger Jacobs is the nom de plume of a freelance writer living in Montreal.
Indulge your maudite side
La Belle Province
Everywhere, including 3608, boul. St-Laurent
(514) 844-4470
Mondo Fritz
3899, rue St-Laurent
(514) 281-6521
La Banquise
994, rue Rachel E.
(514) 525-2415
Open 24 hours |
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