
(Photo: Courtesy Heinz)
You wouldn’t think something as delicious as the combination of French fries, gravy and cheese curds could excite such strong feelings, but maybe you’ve never attempted to squirt a zig zag of ketchup on a steamy plate of poutine in mixed company.
That squirt will not pass without comment—especially if you're sharing a plate—and will likely be viewed as either an act of naked aggression against an iconic French Canadian snack by poutine purists or a messy enhancement of its enduring appeal by the poutine-chaotic among us.
Heinz is weighing in on the debate—and possibly even attempting to tip the scales in its favour—by introducing a limited-edition Heinz Poutine Ketchup in honour of National Poutine Day on April 11. (Only lucky contest winners will be able to snag a bottle, though!)
Poutine has always been a lightning-rod food. Even the Quebecois snack bar staple’s origins are disputed, with two different snack bars claiming to be the originators of the salty snack back in the 1950s.
“I first encountered [poutine] at ski places,” says Montreal-based pastry chef and food writer Lesley Chesterman, who includes her own homemade poutine recipe in her new cookbook, A Montreal Cook: Recipes and Reflections from My Kitchen.
As its popularity soared in the aughts, thanks to attention from culinary luminaries like Martin Picard of Montreal’s Au Pied Cochon, attempts to nationalize the dish were met with outcries of cultural appropriation.
The ketchup conversation is no less controversial. That may be because, in Chesterman’s view, the star of poutine’s show is the gravy.
“That’s the key to poutine: the sauce,” says Chesterman.
So, too, is the texture, she explains. It’s the squeak of the cheese curds which offset the gooeyness of the gravy-soaked fries.
And then there’s the salt: “The flavour combination is salt, salt, salt. The salt of the cheese, the salt of the fries, the salty-tang of the gravy. The dish is all about salt.”
Ketchup isn’t about salt, however; it’s all about sweetness, says Chesterman—which is likely why so many people shudder at its introduction into poutine's salty-gooey perfection.
“I have no problem with ketchup on fries, but I wouldn’t put it on poutine,” she says.
And while she’s unbothered by those that choose to dip their poutine with some side ketchup (“If that’s your jam. More power to you,” she says), she’s not so keen on those that put ketchup on the dish itself.
“If I saw someone putting it on top of the poutine? No,” says Chesterman.
Ketchup isn't the only controversial condiment worth considering the next time you sit down to some poutine, however.
For some, mayonnaise and poutine is a decadent but blissful union. (Chesterman calls it a “death row meal” kind of indulgence.)
Could mayo improve upon the original poutine experience? Maybe that’s a debate for next year’s National Poutine Day.
Flannery Dean is a writer based in Hamilton, Ont. She’s written for The Narwhal, the Globe and Mail and The Guardian.