My trip across the Capilano Suspension Bridge was just the start of a fun day in Vancouver. Once in town, my first order of business was to track down lunch.
On the menu this drizzly Sunday afternoon? Poutine, of course.
How poutine hasn’t caught on in America, I will never know. This is the same country that once scarfed down burgers topped with mozzarella sticks at Red Robin and gobbled up whatever the hell is in those bowls at KFC. But French fries drizzled with gravy and covered with cheese curds apparently go too far in offending our gastric sensibilities.
Our loss. I opted for the traditional bowl at La Belle Patae in Vancouver’s West End. The hand-cut fries were crisp and hot, the gravy rich and tangy, and the cheese curds chewy and slightly melted by the time I scraped the bottom of the bowl.
My once-in-a-decade indulgence satisfied…
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