Poutine saved me from hurricane sandy. Basically. Well, not really.
With the end of the world approaching, 1,400 calories worth of fat topped with fat chunks and fat sauce seemed like the thing to do. I’d certainly burn it off white knuckling the Cross Bronx Expressway with the mandatory evacuees…hundreds of thousands of resentful and frightened New York driver evacuees. Finding the ideal candidate was critical: it had to be topped with a thin gravy (this is critical to purists-no pasty flour-thickened gravy allowed) and huge chunks of young Cheddar cheese curds, just like Grandpa used to smuggle in from Canada during the war.