A fatty, salty fast food catches on in Canada

Invented in Quebec in the mid-1950s, poutine's name is said to be a French-Canadian slang word for 'mess'. Photo / 123RF

Poutine is fast becoming a Canadian legend, writes Jennifer Chevalier

Before the easily confused George Bush became President of the United States, he was the butt of a good joke in Canada.

A comedian posing as a journalist told the Governor he had the endorsement of Prime Minister Jean Poutine in his bid for the Presidency, to which Bush responded with delight and a solemn statement about the importance of good relations with America's "most important neighbour".

Sadly for Governor Bush, the Prime Minister of Canada is Jean Chretien. Poutine, on the other hand, is fast becoming a Canadian legend.

Once confined to Quebec, the seemingly unpalatable dish of french fries, cheese curds and gravy has oozed across the country and is now the closest thing Canada has to a national food.

"This country has an immigrant history, so the culinary influences come from all over the world. You can't really define one kind of food as being Canadian," says Elizabeth Baird, food editor of Canadian Living magazine.

"Even native foods are too varied. In one area people ate succotash (green maize and beans), in another, pemmican (dried pounded meat and melted fat)."

In the absence of a national craving for berries and caribou flesh, Canadians are left with a handful of regional specialities. The difficulty is in finding foods that aren't shared by their gluttonous neighbours to the south, therefore ruling out such heights of New World cuisine as hamburgers, hotdogs and doughnuts. Even maple syrup is widely produced in New England, robbing Canadians of an exclusive claim to the food they've put on their flag.

In the western province of British Columbia, there are chocolate and cream squares known as nanaimo bars. Butter tarts — small treacle tarts with raisins or nuts — are favoured by the descendants of British immigrants in Ontario. Tortiere is a Quebecois meat pie served on Christmas Eve. And while back bacon might be traditionally Canadian, most prefer it streaky.

The appeal of poutine, however, is growing. Invented in Quebec in the mid-1950s, its name is said to be a French-Canadian slang word for "mess." It's widely served throughout the east of Canada, and fast-food chains such as Burger King have put it on their menu nationwide. It's the favourite dish of students on late-night benders. One diner in the university town of Kingston, Ontario, sells as many as 400 tubs a weekend.

The key to good poutine is the cheese curd. The young curds, a byproduct of cheese-making, come in thumb-sized chunks, and when they are laid on hot chips and covered with chicken or beef gravy, they melt into gooey, stringy strips.

"The sound of it does gross you out," admits Baird. "It's all fat and salt, and more fat and more salt."

But Canada's top cookery writer sheepishly admits to enjoying the odd tub of Italian-style poutine.

It's a sign of poutine's widespread acceptance that it has been modified to suit the palates of Canada's immigrant populations. Italian poutine is made with mozzarella and bolognese sauce; Greek poutine with feta cheese and meat sauce. One cult restaurant in Montreal — called Raspoutine, naturally — is said to have boasted dozens of flavours in its heyday.

Not all Canadians like their default national dish. But for one student tucking in at Bubba's Restaurant in Kingston, the fact that it has become a Canadian in-joke is part of the appeal.

"It tastes amazing, and it was used to humiliate an American politician. What more do you want in a Canadian food?"