Poutine Tang

In the New York restaurant scene, obscure cuisines like Tibetan or Cambodian are readily represented. But if, like me, you hail from the neighbor to the north and are looking for some classic Canadian comfort food, you’ve been out of luck, save for the rare bar that serves Molson.

Last year, however, a restaurant called Inn LW 12 opened in the Meatpacking District and featured a few Canadian-inspired cocktails and menu items, including poutine—a much-loved French-fry dish. Sadly, it’s no longer serving food.

Arguably the Canadian national food, poutine originated in Quebec around the mid-20th century and is traditionally made with fries, gravy and cheese curds. It’s unadorned comfort food at its fried and cheesy finest, and there’s a bonus: poutine is great for soaking up many Canadian (or lesser) beers.

Poutine has struggled to come into its own on the New York dining scene. While restaurants like Sheep Station in Park Slope serve the dish, Americans seem to prefer their homegrown alternative, the much-less-sexy-sounding disco fries. Disco fries don’t always come with gravy and are usually topped with cheddar or mozzarella cheese.

Curious to see what was passing for greasy potato goodness south of the border, I set out to try versions of the smothered spuds all over town—dragging along a dubious American to prevent the taint of bias.

We started at The Waverly Restaurant (385 Sixth Ave., at Waverly Pl., 212-675-3181), where I had my first plate of disco fries ($5.50). My partner Joe was nervous, but he tried to think of it as like eating a baked potato with gravy and cheese. You have to ask for the gravy, which comes on the side, to accompany your mound of steak fries covered with cheddar. The fries were thick and the cheese well distributed. My verdict: a serviceable diner version. Joe gave it the thumbs down; he didn’t like the gravy and said, “It sounds more interesting than it actually tastes.”

We then went across town to Pommes Frites (123 Second Ave. betw. 7th and 8th Sts., 212-674-1234), which despite being Belgian has poutine ($5/small). The first thing you see in the generous small size is the abundance of gravy. With some disgust, Joe noted, “Clearly gravy is not optional.” However, a big fan of salt—which it had plenty of—he was warming in his affections toward the national dish. I thought the crispiness of the thick fries held up well, but the dish was out of whack. The cheese curds were suitably gooey, but there weren’t enough of them, especially considering the overwhelming amount of gravy.

Joined by my friend Barbara, we headed downtown to Gold Street (2 Gold St., at Maiden Ln., 212-747-0797)—a 24-hour, highfalutin diner in the Financial District—for an up-market take on disco fries; instead of déclassé melted cheese, these fries would come with a brie fondue ($9.25) for delicious dipping. But when the waiter brought our order out, we thought there’d been a mix up. In the middle of the platter sat a dish of frites, and on each side of the plate sat little cups of what looked like salad dressing. He said the kitchen was out of gravy, so they’d substituted Russian dressing—a decidedly un-gravy like combo of mayo, ketchup and relish—and the other cup was the fondue. While it’s a novel idea, fondue is too fancy for such an unfussy food. The frites were the only good part: Thin and nicely seasoned, they went better with ketchup than anything the restaurant had to offer. Barbara said the thin fondue tasted like mayo and not at all like the strong, stinky Brie we had hoped for. Speaking for the three of us, she declared, “We like Brie too much to try this again!”

The last stop was Park Slope’s Australian restaurant Sheep Station (149 4th Ave., at Douglass St., Brooklyn, 718-857-4337), where we sought to cleanse our palates with beer and a traditional plate of poutine ($6) made by the French-Canadian chef, Martine Lafond. Brimming with enthusiasm, Joe voted the fries, “The best so far! Golden brown and crispy.” I liked the balance between the three elements and was relieved the gravy and salt didn’t overwhelm. We both wanted more curds. We washed it down with Canadian beer—they have Maudite and Fin du Monde—and gave it an unequivocal two thumbs up.