On March 10, 2016, the White House Executive Chef Cristeta Comerford served poutine (pronounced [ ]) during the first State Dinner between United States President Barack Obama and the Prime Minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau. If we set aside for a moment the classic version of poutine that consists of Quebec fries, cheese curds that often functions as a late-night beer sponge—Chef Comerford found a way to adapt the dish for the occasion and served “shavings of smoked duck and cheese curds finished with red wine gravy and served on delicate wafer fries: a one-bite canapé.” 1 The White House was a radical change of setting for this dish that came from initially modest intentions, and that was typically served in rural casse-croûtes (diners), urban greasy spoons and community arenas (skating rinks) across Quebec. The event was also an unexpected instance of social mobility for a dish that was, for a significant part of its existence, a means of stigmatization used against Quebec society, and later the flagship of junk food consumption shaming of the 2000s. 2 In this paper, I draw on my personal relationship with poutine to seek answers as to how this dish found its way into the White House—by deconstructing the poutine tasting experience and looking at the social mobility of foods, while also revisiting the poutine stigma through the social identity theory.

Like many other Quebecois millennials, my upbringing was marked by a poutine ‘prohibition’. Halfway through high-school, around 2004, poutine was withdrawn from my cafeteria’s daily menu to be offered only on Thursdays. The nutritional arguments that supported this measure by my school’s administration are compelling, and can be summarized by the following two words: salt and fat. 3 The cafeteria’s restriction transformed Thursday’s 11:55am lunch bell into a starting gun, signaling the start of the weekly sprint to the cafeteria to order poutine. Students used excuses to leave class early and found secret shortcuts so they could be first in line. Luckily for the hundreds of student sprinters, word eventually spread that the nearby skating rink was also serving poutine. Poutine was not only served at the rink daily, but it was also, in my opinion, a far superior poutine, mainly because of the crispier fries. This trick of getting poutine from another vendor lasted for some time, until Quebec’s community rinks had to abide by the virage santé that occurred around 2000 (i.e. Quebec’s decision to implement healthier eating and food habits). 4 Now that I am in my mid-twenties, my relation with poutine is unhindered and the dish has become my sought-after late-night meal that I crave after I’ve had a few beers. In other words, just like many other millennial Montrealers, poutine has become my ‘drunk food.’ However, if I go camping with my friends, we always make sure to stop along the way to experience new poutineries (places serving primarily poutine, but that may also serve other menu items). As such, I have always described my appetite for poutine as being context-dependent, shifting from an urban-nighttime meal to a rural-daylight snack. But what exactly explains the attracting, somewhat addictive effect of poutine—a dish many find unappealing at first sight, only to embrace it after they’ve had a bite?

Poutine’s Mainstream Appeal: Social and Dynamic

Poutine is a social dish; it is meant to be eaten with others, although in some instances, the act of eating poutine alone is accompanied by a sense of shaming. Poutine sociability is commonly taken as far as ordering the largest available poutine size (e.g. small, medium, large) and asking to have two, three or four forks so that everyone can have their own bite of poutine to eat. When I eat poutine with my friends, we always talk about how the quality of the poutine fares in relation to other restaurants’ or poutineries, or whether this version is better or worse than the last time we had the dish at the same restaurant. These discussions that animate our meals emerge because, as it will be discussed in the following sections, poutine is a dynamic dish, and this ‘dynamicity’ is what makes the dish intriguing, exciting and mouth-watering.

The dynamic aspects of poutine are found in every bite. Robert J. Hyde and Steven A. Witherly suggest that “the most highly palatable foods are likely to have higher levels of dynamic contrast (moment-to-moment sensory contrast from the ever-changing properties of foods manipulated in the mouth).”5 The sensory contrast they refer to relies heavily on texture, but temperature, viscosity and irritation (from spices, acids, or carbonation) are also cited factors. Think of how unappealing a warm and soggy bowl of cereal is—that is, they argue, mainly because of its low dynamic contrast. In their article, ice cream, cold carbonated beverages and melted cheese on pizza are used to detail the type of foods that have a high level of dynamic contrast. “Obviously they have never sampled poutine,” as was once said in another context.

In each bite, the crispiness of the fries compounded with the sound-texture ‘squeakiness’ of the room-temperature cheese curds are both gently melted down by the thick and hot gravy, which in turn makes the flavours merge and evolve. How does this drastic mix and deliberate evolution in textures, temperatures, viscosities and flavours not make poutine the epitome of dynamic-contrast? The dynamic-contrast model would explain why poutine aficionados are highly cognizant of eating at the right pace and keeping the correct cheese-per-bite ratio, either in their personal or shared poutine. That is, to not to be left eating a low dynamic contrast cold potatoes and gravy paste (which would be analogous to eating the warm and soggy cereal bowl). Dynamic contrast theory brings to light why traits of a superior poutine are the long-lasting crispiness of the fries, and the freshness of the cheese curds, which can be assessed by the cheese’s sound-texture ‘squeakiness’.6 Topped with a thick and hot gravy that fuses flavours and textures from the three ingredients, the disparate ingredients are turned into a unified dish that is high in dynamic-contrast which —maybe to surprise— makes the poutine experience, not only pleasurable, but often memorable.