IT IS DISGUSTING, but you can’t look away. Cheese curds float face down in gravy like flood victims and the french fries cry out for mercy below.
To this American, poutine is one bad idea after another. Fries are good enough as it is, maybe a little ketchup, mayo or ranch, but that is it. But as bizarre as it sounds, slopping heaps of brown goo on a helpless pile of fried potatoes is some sort of Canadian past time.
As if the soupy drunk-food isn’t bad enough left alone we have Furious Pete who is furiously filling his woefully distended cheeks with poutine as fast as he can. Melted cheese hangs from his chin, gravy dribbles down his constantly working maw and his fists are filled with disfigured french fries.
I can’t look away. Then it occurs to me that besides eating like a hyena on speed being Pete’s schtick, perhaps it is the only way one can actually down a whole take pout container of poutine.
On thing is for sure, I have lost my appetite.
Feature image by LexnGer