To some, it’s merely a relic of the Cold War. Created in the 1950s when “duck and cover” was no longer the advice given by a French cook believing in the patient simmering of braised canard. I’m talking about poutine, that savory symbol of Quebécois culture, spilling out of paper plates of ravenous fans during the intermission of a Canadiens game.
In 2022, you’re started to see certain people push the dish on unsuspecting diners. People who haven’t heard about the food and upon seeing for the first time are convinced something is terrible wrong. Either with the ingredients themselves or the mental acuity of the chef, since whoever would prepare such a dish surely has a few screws (scroux in Fr.) loose. There’s at least one issue that I can see.
Poutine isn’t good for you. Plain and simple, it’s junk food of the highest order. And there’s no planet we’ve yet discovered where a steady diet of french fries covered in cheese curds and thick brown gravy is the hallmark of a health nut. It’s not for everyone. Still, that doesn’t mean there aren’t those pushy souls, insisting you finishing what’s on their plate even before you’ve had a chance to enjoy what’s on your own.
If you want to eat it? Go right ahead. But not everyone likes it. How is that so hard to understand? It’s an invasion on your insides, an assault on the body like little else. The world would be a better place if people just ate what was on their plate. The food is greasy and can’t be trusted. Some aspects of it, especially the gravy, remains a state secret. Some people enjoy the intrigue, while others just want a little borscht.
We could use some preparation, eh?
No comments:
Post a Comment