Sunday, July 04, 2004


n. [poo ' teen]:

The cheese curds did indeed melt and pull the dish together into one gooey mass, although the French fries stayed crispy enough to be individually discernible in the collective, giving the dish a pleasing light crunch. The brown gravy was turpid and dark, with a sturdy tannin structure supporting notes of oak, wood smoke, spice, aniseed and musk. There was the faintest hint of chocolate and raspberry in the finish, though that may have reflected a previous use of the serving dish. In the nose, the poutine was beefy and slightly insolent – I detected an almost wanton playfulness, the evanescent flavors frolicking together like young beavers in a Gaspé pond at dusk…

Poutine is like the Scottish ‘Chips and Cheese’ which I enjoyed so often in Aberdeen after a night out. But this has cheese curds and gravy. And the above, comedic, superb description comes from an entry on the equally superb Idle Words. Go there at once. Now. Shoo!

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