File Under Finally: Poutine In Boston.

There's a little gem (dive) at 14 Bromfield St. in Boston called The SideBar. It's near Silvertone, The Beantown Pub, The Orpheum, etc. It's famous for it's cheap wings, immaculate bathrooms, courteous service, $6 pitchers and now a little slice of endangered Canadian cuisine: Poutine.

I stopped in at The SideBar on my way home from work tonight to help send off a friend of mine who's moving to Colorado (Good luck, Dan!). I love the food there, and as plate after plate of cheese fries kept flying out of the kitchen I asked Ronnie, one of the owners, if he'd ever heard of Poutine.

"Poo-what? Jesus." he replied. I explained to him that it was French-Canadian in origin, and very popular North of the border. "Hell, you can even get it at Wendy's up there." I said. "Well what the hell is it?" he asked. "Sounds f*cking disgusting!"

"Not as f*cking disgusting as it looks." I assured him.



In a nutshell, Poutine is a bowl of fries, cheese and gravy. Where are you going? You should really hear me out on this. It's been getting a lot of press in the U.S.A. recently (even Disney characters are getting in on the action) and I told Ronnie his could be the first bar in Boston to serve it. He could help spearhead the Canadian invasion which you should have already realized is imminent by now. Jason Priestly. Shatner. I don't even need to go any further.

I asked him if he had any gravy in the back. He said he didn't, but then disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes - obviously contemplating something. Obvious only because he had ceased swearing for 45 seconds. He then walked back behind the bar to serve some new customers who probably thought they had already heard every possible use of the 'F' word known to man before walking through the front door.

Then Ronnie went back into the kitchen and returned with an enormous bowl of what was quite possibly the most beautiful incarnation of Poutine I have ever seen in my life. He laid it out in front of me and my friends and slammed a fistful of forks down onto the bar. We dug in - cheese and gravy flying everywhere. "This is f*cking good, dude." Ronnie admitted.

I'll spare you the complete history, but Canadians in general - and especially the French - have weird eating habits. I bet before reading this, you thought our national cuisine consisted of nothing but tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, hot dogs and Kraft Dinner. And you were right.

But we have our proud Poutine too, and now an establishment in Boston where it can be enjoyed. Ronnie and the other owner Sebby, are intrigued - but still reluctant. I implore everyone to a) visit the almighty SideBar the next time you're in the area and b) Ask Ronnie or Sebby to make you some Poutine! This could catch on. But I need your help, Boston. And some Alkaseltzer. And definitely not in that order.

- "What do I owe you for dinner, Ronnie?"
- "Nothing. You're all set."
- "Well I should hope so, since you f*cking ate it all."
- "Get out."