My personal trainer is Canadian. On Thursday when we met up for some fitness fun we were recapping his holiday, Canada Day, and my holiday, Independence Day. As we were casually discussing things that came from Canada, I mentioned Naniamo Bars. He mentioned Poutine.
Nothing about Poutine can be approved by a trainer. It's french fries, cheese curds and gravy. Delicious. Salty. Savory.
It can in no way be described as eating clean. Imagine my delight walking through the Pearl Street Farmer's Market on Sunday and finding the Poutine Cuisine booth. It was meant to be.
My poutine was garnished with the Canadian flag. That must be the giveaway to the secret society of poutine lovers. Otherwise it would just look, to the uneducated eye, like a basket of fries with mystery sauce. As I was walking cheerfully through the market enjoying my treat, someone stopped me to ask "where did you get that poutine?" How often does that happen?
2 comments:
Yay Poutine! Yay Jack!
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