On a hot summer day, once again, wondering around Queen West looking for a spot to hit for some content. We went into this one spot where we sat for fifteen minutes (without exaggeration) and our presence was not even acknowledged. Most people would be really upset, and I guess we were, but we just chilled in their air conditioned and used the table’s supply of napkins to wipe our brows and then busted out. Hope you assholes had fun cleaning up my sweat.  

 

So after we leave this spot we stumble into Gorilla Monsoon at 372 Queen Street West. At this point I don’t even know if they have poutine but I’m just jonsing for either a 50 or a pitcher of long island ice tea – or any other refreshing beverage that will make me piss and stagger. It’s a beautiful day, it’s my day off, don’t judge me.

 

So we grab some seats and I naturally order a 50 while my accomplices are ordering water and/or Shirley Temples instead of beers to dehydrate (read: to harsh buzzes). It turns out that they do have a poutine on the menu. I have looked up their menus (yes, plural) online so that I can remember how much it was but the two different menus posted online do not have a poutine listed…and I may know why…and you soon may as well. Just sayin’.

 

 

The fries are pretty on point. While they aren’t fresh cut they are as close to fresh cut as I think I’m going to find without going to a chip truck. Huge draw back is the obvious grated cheese. At least Gorilla Monsoon was “creative” enough to use marbled cheese instead of straight orange cheddar. I’m actually surprised I haven’t stumbled across a spot yet that does not just crumble white cheddar or mozzarella or some shit and try to pass it off as curds. Take note, cooks; do not try and poo in my mouth and call it chocolate. I mean this both literally and metaphorically…but especially literally. Because that’s gross!  

 

Unfortunately, another draw back, as I trust that you can see above, we’re not taking about a huge portion here. While it may look like a nice phat stack of poutiney goodness…it isn’t. When I say it isn’t, I really mean that it’s not a phat stack (see below), actual poutine or good. Strike three; you’re out like Alpha Chino around a campfire.

 

 

Oh yeah – the gravy. It was ok. By no means award winning. While somewhat tasty it definitely needed work in the viscosity department. There’s nothing more that I can really say about this poutine let alone the gravy. Just not into it at all.

 

After this debauchery and seeing all of the shitty reviews I have given to spots on Queen West, I obviously need to walk in a different neighborhood and diversify my bonds! There is one or two spots left on (or just off of) Queen West that my pal Nick recommends – but after that, Queen West….you’re fuckin’ dead to me, you poutine massacring whore.