On the road to find Quebec’s greatest poutineries

My journey began in Quebec City. First stop: Microbrasserie La Souche. My Mitsubishi Outlander PHEV and its renowned Super All-Wheel Control system handled the winding, imperfect roads of the verdant Québec landscape with ease. As I approached, it dawned on me that this wasn’t your average side-of-the-highway casse-croute. It was an idyllic cabin nestled in the woods serving up local craft beer and, as their team puts it, a “forest of legendary flavours.”

The rustic décor, local artwork, and lingering smell of … cedar … perhaps, instantly made me feel at home. I ordered a “Boules Du Bûcheron” and when it was handed to me, my eyes widened at something I’d never seen before — strange, yet beautiful, deep-fried cheese curds.

I took my poutine to a picnic table outside and took my first bite, overlooking a view that felt far too picturesque to be the backdrop of the demolition that was about to take place. But as the flavours mingled, and the purity of locally grown and sourced ingredients shone through, I realized that this bucolic setting was perfectly matched by this culinary experience. Eating great food made by kind, nurturing people who take such pride in their connection to their land reminded me that a great poutine is so much more than the sum of its parts; it’s a celebration of heritage. And I’m certain that anyone who visits La Souche will taste it too.

Satiated and ready for Round 2, I hopped back in the Outlander PHEV and set off towards Super Super, a hip comptoir-lunch that, after claiming a top spot in last year’s La Poutine Week festival, had been on my must-try list ever since. The team behind this joint pride themselves on “living on love and good food,” and it shows from the second you step in the door. I was greeted by a team of friendly staff and colourful shelves packed with a selection of local pickles, coffee beans and bespoke merch. The atmosphere? Buzzing. The smell? Intoxicating.

I ordered their classic poutine and was surprised by what I received: mashed potatoes, cheese and pickles. But I know better than to question genius, and to no one’s surprise, the textures and flavours sang in delicious harmony.

Plus, their focus on sustainability and supporting local farmers made every bite even more delicious. (Maybe because on some level, my eating poutine somehow felt like doing my part for the planet?) As I scraped the bottom of the plate, I understood why this restaurant chose its name. From their philosophy to their fries, the entire experience here was super x2. Hot take: food tastes better when you eat it out of the trunk of your car. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

Two poutines down, three more to go. As I listened to the GPS lady’s directions, my mind began to wander: was there such a thing as too many cheese curds? Before I could think about it for too long, I had arrived at my next stop: Jack Saloon in Trois-Rivières, who are putting a zesty Tex-Mex twist on classic Québecois ingredients. Was I feeling a bit sluggish? Sure. But looking around at the wild western flare of the décor, I knew that tapping out wasn’t an option. So I did what any respectable cowboy would do, and ordered a poutine (topped with fried chicken and smothered in barbecue sauce, of course). I don’t know if it was the cowboy hat or the caffeine rush from the pop I guzzled, but I demolished it. I put down my knife and fork, yee-haw’d, and got back on the horse. Well … back into my Mitsubishi Outlander.

No poutine-themed road trip would be complete without a visit to Fromagerie Victoria. For the Poutine Purists — an esteemed club of which I am a proud member — it doesn’t get much more “classique” than this long-standing gem that’s been serving up nothing but perfectly crispy fries, sumptuous gravy and the squeakiest of cheese curds for more than 75 years.

A familiar scent and nostalgia washed over me with my first whiff of the place. I’ve frequented this spot on several occasions with my family over the years and stepping inside felt like walking into a warm hug.

As I chowed down, I chatted with the owner who shared with me their philosophy, their pride in maintaining their relationships with farmers, and their dedication to highlighting the flavours of their unique region. With every visit, I’m constantly impressed by Fromagerie Victoria’s consistency and commitment to quality: on top of using nothing but local, top-quality ingredients, they make their own curds — daily. Plus, they have a giant cow outside. I mean, c’mon.

As my Outlander PHEV and I made our way out of the country towards our final destination in the city, I geared up mentally for my fifth and final poutine of the day: Ma Poule Mouillée. I know I just said I was a purist, but their addition of Portuguese chicken and spicy sauce to their poutine is a serious thing of beauty.

As much as I’d love to gatekeep this joint, the queue of people waiting outside clued me into the fact that other people have caught onto the hype. Usually, I’d respect the system: first come first serve, no butting the line. But in this particular instance, I had a friend (who happened to also be my cameraman) with me, and the distinct, sodium-induced swagger of a man who had just consumed four poutines. As I confidently made my way to the front of the line, I couldn’t help but feel like a Food Network celebrity. I knew this was my chance to milk my five seconds of fame for all it was worth. *Cue slow-mo shots of me staring obnoxiously into the camera, taking bites and loudly “MMMMMMM-ing” after each one.

The portion was huge. I had nothing left to give. But I didn’t choose the poutinefluencer life — it chose me. As I looked around at the other foodies diving into their own poutines, I was hit with a sudden surge of strength to make it to the finish line, comforted and energized by the knowledge that I was safe here, amongst my people.