Well, strap my bib on, get me my “Big” fork, and grab a roll of paper towel to wipe my chin, cuz’ there was a record breaking 1,300 pound poutine made in Montreal, thanks to the radio station CKOI-FM for organizing the event. I’m not sure what the record was before or even if there was a record, but the feat was probably worthwhile none-the-less. You don’t know how much I really wish I was there.
A lot of people get on my case because poutines are considered unhealthy. In fact, when I say they are considered unhealthy, these same people correct me and say, “they ARE unhealthy.” This is especially true of a former colleague of mine (who is a nurse), and has been influenced by Poutine Guy more-so than Poutine Guy has been influenced by her or that she’s ever likely to admit publicly. I think she’s eaten more poutines since I started this blog than she did in her entire previous adult life – I guess that makes me a poutine market catalyst. I should be getting royalties or commission or something.
Of course, I decided to perform a little online research to see what others might think about the idea that this delicious Quebecois dish is possibly unhealthy. I discovered a November, 2010 MSN online article that actually refers to the poutine as one of the ten “unhealthiest foods known to man.” To be fair to the poutine, the article is biased toward foods consumed only in North America; and even within this elite Group of Ten, the poutine fares well in comparison to the other nine. Just saying.
Meanwhile, a recent Globe & Mail commentary talks about obesity being a losing battle in North America so long as fast food tastes so good. Basically, good food should stop tasting like good food. It also condemns the poutine. The article notes that gourmet poutine is actually quite trendy in Quebec these days. I guess I’m ahead of the curve here in New Brunswick. I should have that engraved on my urn!
Speaking of newspapers, a Hat Tip from the local food connoisseurs “The Two Fat Guys,” led to Poutine Guy getting a friendly mention from the Times & Transcript in the My Spies column. By the way, it’s a fantastic and wonderful newspaper, and not just because I was mentioned in it, used to work there, or still consider many working there to be my friends. Here is the mention, from the pen of Rod Allen, in its entirety:
Those clandestine culinary cut-ups The Two Fat Guys direct a shout-out the way of former T&T staffer and former Mike Murphy aide David Gingras, who has made a bold new career move as Poutine Guy, intrepidly touring the Picture-Perfect Poutine Province on an 'ate and rate' tour to identify New Brunswick's best poutine - the good Quebec kind, not the weird, slimy Acadian kind. Spy Central directs fans to Poutine Guy on Facebook and to Dave, our hearty congrats and a lifetime membership recommendation to Moncton's fabulous Y.” (November 24)
Yes, I know. If you blinked, you would have missed it. However, I did note that it was recommended I join a gym. So, as I have stated before, it’s about moderation folks. Despite a deep desire to do so, I do not eat a poutine every day.
But, I did eat one yesterday. At M.I.C. in Dieppe. It scores very well. I had heard some mixed messages about the M.I.C. poutine, with one person telling me she had the dish one day and it was great, and another time it was subpar.
Well, all I can say is the good chef was in last night, perhaps because there was a wedding reception / dinner going on. It could have been the festive atmosphere or the holiday music playing, but the poutine was fabulous. I’m saying, an 83% kind of fabulous. That makes it the second best I've had in New Brunswick so far, while being the best you can get seven days a week (the best poutine being at the Moncton Market). The curds were squeaky along the edges and there were great huge gobs of good cheese in the middle. The fries were nice, and best of all was the gravy – dark, rich and thick, and not a clump to be found.
If you should also give into your deep-fried desires for poutine, I highly recommend a trip to Dieppe. Let me know how it went.
And, of course, may your curds stay squeaky.