I know the French are the sworn enemy and antithetical satans of all that it means to be a proud American, but after a visit to La Banquise in Montréal, I can safely say I would rather be fat than be a patriot (This is of course delightfully ironic because there are no fat people in Montréal, a moneyed city populated with swarthy mustache-bearers, impossibly fit birds in size 2 jeans, and lots of bums).
La Banquise is touristy and not particularly easy on the eyes, with yellow walls, hokey wall art and a plastic-coated menu designed to keep drunken projectile vomit at bay. It's open 24h and ideally serves to coat the stomach before or after a night of binge drinking. But who cares? With options like "Obélix" (Jewish style smoked meat), "T-Rex" (ground beef, pepperoni, bacon and hot dog sausage) and "Taquise" (guacamole, sour cream and tomatoes), you'll thoroughly enjoy shortening your lifespan with a steaming pile of what is possibly the most unhealthy culinary creation in North America.
Poutine at its basest level, without any fancy add-ons, is a pile of french fries covered in thick brown gravy and fresh cheese curds. It was born in the Quebecois countryside sometime after 1950, and has since become a staple in Canadian fast-food and diner-style eateries. Tell anyone you're visiting Montréal and they will tell you to eat poutine, and will probably recommend La Banquise.
I have eaten a good selection of terrible things in my time, from a whole package of Tim Tams dunked in peanut butter to an entire pizza by myself, but my poutine Taquise from La Banquise is possibly the most obscene thing I have ever put into my body. From the moment of fork implantation down to the last gasp for air, it was all greasy, fatty guilt. Just a heaping pile of salty carbs topped with fat.
It's no wonder I haven't had a bowel movement in seven days.