Poutine was once a regional dish we simply had to treat ourselves to while visiting Quebec or eastern Canada. These days it can be found all around Toronto.

And why not? The dish is not only a crowd-pleasing, artery-clogging home run, like pizza, chicken wings and nachos, it's also patriotic. A toque-wearing Canuck eating poutine is as iconic as a Parisian in a beret nibbling a croissant.

Smoke's Poutinerie has successfully muscled in on the action down in office/club land. Serving nothing but poutine and pop, Smoke's is the current big man on campus during lunch rush. Every weekday, the dedicated poutinerie goes toe to toe with its downstairs neighbour, fan-favourite Burrito Boyz, some days going through as much as 1,000 pounds of potatoes.

Both businesses stay open until past last call on the weekend. All those potatoes smothered in gravy probably do as much to sop up late-night drunken hooliganism as the high-profile police presence in clubland.

The poutinerie offers more than a dozen variations of varying kitschiness on the basic formula. Of course, this business is going to live or die on its essential dish. The three ingredients in basic poutine each has to be great or it's a waste of stomach space. Get them right and then we can talk about the curried chicken version.

Owner Ryan Smolkin receives deliveries every day so immediate demand is helping to keep up quality. The cheese curds are not just squeaky but properly mixed in, rather than sitting on top. Smoke's fries are crispy but with plenty of "meat" on them.

The beef/chicken gravy is thick but not so shaped by cornstarch that it solidifies once it hits the table. The fries are packaged up in cardboard boxes, generously piled high with all active ingredients.

So the basic ($5.95) is a success.

"The Montreal" ($7.95) resembles a Schwartz's smoked meat sandwich the way that Play-Doh resembles any type of real food. The thin strips of pink, rubbery beef are smoked meat in name only. And a full sour pickle placed on top is instantly steamed.

A vegetarian option ($5.95) extracts major potency out of mushrooms to make gravy that will not leave vegetarians out in the cold. Sorry vegans, you are out of luck. A poutinerie is no place for vegans.

Sweet, shreddy pork tops a simple variation ($8.95). The young man who recommends it also promises that the package will keep for my 10-minute walk home.

Most people would want to consume fries on the spot, but a good chunk of the crowd are bringing the murderous mounds back to their cubicles.

True to the young man's word, the gravy and cheese remain warm 10 minutes later and some of the fries are even still crispy.

Often I eat alone in restaurants. Like a sassy, undersexed sitcom neighbour, I do a lot of eavesdropping. Two topics keep coming up at Smoke's.

One is that the portions are large. True, I notice, glancing around the room, that these portions are rarely finished.

The second topic is the drunkard's relationship to the dish. Often overheard are comments like "This would be so good if I were drunk," or "The best poutine I ever had was at so-and-so's, though I was really drunk."

Toronto, I don't know how you do your job, but I try to do mine sober. Fortunately, Smoke's is open until 4 a.m. on Friday and Saturday. So you'll have every opportunity to test-drive the poutine in its natural habitat.

Be warned, there will likely be other drunken people there, too.

Perhaps, by the time you read these words, I am no longer alive. Perhaps this is my fate, to perish in service, felled by a potato.

If it has come to pass that you are reading my final words while my body lies in the morgue, veins clogged with gravy, heart surrounded by melted cheese, ankles puffy, I want you to know that it was worth it.

And it was an honour serving you.

A Plethora of poutine places to be found around town

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View map of choice poutine venues in Toronto

Smoke's Poutinerie, ($5.95 to $8.95), offers more than a dozen variations on the theme.