Quebec dish has become a big hit in Paris
Yes the cheese curds squeak, but the gravy may be tangier than we’re used to
It’s noon on a rainy Saturday afternoon in Paris.
It’s not the usual Parisian spring drizzle, the wishy-washy kind that can’t seem to make up its mind whether it wants to stay or go.
No, today, the rain is steady and heavy, emptying the streets of the normally bustling 2nd arrondissement and beating down hard on the umbrellas of half a dozen people who have lined up outside a cheery, bright blue restaurant facade — the only sign of life on rue Mandar on this particular afternoon.
Four months after its opening, it’s still common to see lines of hungry guests queued up outside La Maison de la Poutine, one of the buzziest dining addresses in the city right now.
As Paris’s first restaurant dedicated entirely to that most Québécois of dishes, it’s gained the attention of food bloggers, mainstream media and the gastronomic elite alike, who seem amused at the novelty of it all.
Were someone to tell me eight years ago, when I first arrived in Paris as a Toronto expat, that a poutine restaurant would generate this much hype, I would have scoffed given the reaction I used to receive after describing the contents of Canada’s most iconic dish.
With furrowed brow and a distinct note of condescension, haughty Parisians would balk at the notion of topping fries with cheese and gravy, muttering about junk food and obesity in North America.
But over the last few years, the popularity of food trucks and street foods, the changing eating habits of Parisians and France’s love and affection for all things Quebec combined to pave the way for chef Erwan Caradec, 39, to open a poutine restaurant in the gastronomic capital of the world.
“Street food now has a big place in French dining habits,” he says during an interview in French before the crowds arrive.
“Most of our customers are young people, who are more nomadic and don’t spend as much time eating as my generation. Poutine appeals to them because it’s fast and familiar.”
Speaking with Caradec, you could be forgiven for thinking he’s Québécois — maybe a Montrealer who moved to France years ago. There is a light but discernible Quebec accent to his French, and a zeal and enthusiasm for the province that borders on gushing.
(“I’m very sentimental and it’s easy for me to start projecting,” he admits with a smile.)
But Caradec is a Frenchman who spent five years in Montreal more than a decade ago — an experience that marked his life deeply as both a chef and a man.
“I arrived in Montreal very closeminded. I knew only how to cook with butter and crème fraîche. But there, I cooked gnocchi with real Italian grandmothers, and learned how to properly peel ginger from Vietnamese cooks. I grew so much thanks to the plurality of Montreal’s cultures,” he says in a breathless stream.
After returning from Canada, Caradec opened a restaurant in the Paris suburbs, keeping his Montreal experience in the back of his mind.
Last year, after a disappointing experience trying poutine at a Canadian pub in Paris, Caradec started throwing around ideas with his entrepreneurial half-brother and a friend. Then they booked a fiveday “research” trip to Montreal, where they ate poutine for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
From McDonald’s to La Banquise, the trio sampled as many different kinds of poutine as they could, so that Caradec could replicate the dish back in France.
The result is a poutine that starts with hand-cut, crispy, caramel-coloured fries made from potatoes grown not far from Paris, fries that bear little resemblance to the pale yellow, potato wedges found in many generic Paris restaurants.
With his young consumer base in mind, Caradec says he made a conscious decision to lighten the gravy, using a veal and chickenbased jus, going easy on the salt and adding spices and barbecue sauce for a tangier, less full-bodied flavour.
Poutine toppings include bacon, caramelized onions, chicken and chili-spiced beef.
But the biggest challenge in the quest to re-create authentic poutine in Paris, was finding cheese curds. The kind that would melt properly under the gravy, and meet the approval of Quebecers, the customer base he seeks to please the most.
“It’s very good, thanks to the cheese, the glorious cheese,” said Brigitte Boucher, 57, a Montrealer who has been living in Paris for 20 years and who came for a nostalgic, culinary road trip back to Canada.
“The cheese is just as I remember. I love curds,” she said. “I miss curds.”
Boucher has a cheesemaker in the Savoie region to thank for the squeaky curds (made with raw milk), and Caradec’s month-long pursuit of the perfect cheese.
The theatre instructor isn’t the only customer who has braved the unseasonably cold and wet spring Saturday for the chance to relive a few memories.
After learning about the restaurant on social media, Anne Termote, 51, travelled from the Paris suburbs to taste the dish she ate while living in Montreal for 20 years, in a former life.
“I want to revisit Montreal and try the dish that represents Quebec,” she said while waiting outside, raindrops streaming down the inside of her glasses.
Grégoire Deruaz, 29, is being introduced to poutine for the first time, and describes it as the “Americanization” of classic cheesy French potato dishes like tartiflette and raclette.
“You can tell they use very good ingredients,” he said. “It’s quite heavy, very filling.”
The reactions are somewhat in line with Caradec’s experience so far.
“French customers tend to be more critical,” he says. “Ninety per cent of Québécois tell me they feel like they’re at home when they’re here. They understand the idea of what I’m trying to do.”
Plans are afoot to open two more locations in Paris by the end of 2018.