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| - Okay, so here's the deal with every city that has a soul - it always have a great hot dog variation. DC has its half-smokes. New York is eternally Sabretts versus Hebrew National, griddled versus sewer water style. Chicago has their Vienna beef on a steamed poppy seed bun and dragged through the garden. Buffalo has its Sahlens grilled up. Detroit has their coneys, and Cincinnati has their cheese coneys. Toronto has comically large bland weenies to complement their image. And Montreal....?
Before the casse croutes made their poutines, before the Jews bought forth the smoked meats and the bagels, and before the Montreal melon became extinct, there were Montreal hot dogs. There's the LaFleur versus the Lester's, and the steamies versus the toasties (and to a certain extent, a Michigan dog). So, what makes each special? First, the dominant steamies - the buns and the dogs are steam cooked, and they come all-dressed - mustard, chopped onions and coleslaw (not the mayonnaise one - the vinegary/lemony type). Then there's the toasties, which are dog and bun griddled. Michigan is similar to a Detroit coney - steamed, meat chili sauce on top, mustard, onions optional, no cabbage, ever.
Okay, now that we get the hot dog culture out of the way, it's time to ask the $64,000 question - why have it at the Montreal Pool Room? For one, it's open from 10a to past 2a at the Quartiers de spectacles. Chinatown restaurants usually open fairly late, as does the La Belle Province or the Boustan down the block, but then those restaurants are found all over Montreal, and there's only one pool room. You also don't get that sense of shadiness that you do with the pool room. For two, check out the surroundings - during Habs games you will no doubt hear the broadcast on the PA in French, and when the announcer screams " Une Goal, c'est la premiere goal pour Pacioretty ce soir" the place erupts in collective approval, driven by the Habs paraphernalia surrounding the dining room. If you are a Habs fan it's like being on the fifth line in mini Bell Centre. For three, it's one of those places where you rub elbows with Montreal's various layers of humanity. Maybe it's the Advocat who just got out of the palais de justice, or the civil servant who spent the afternoon at Complex Guy Favreau. Or perhaps it's the perv who got out of the Cleopatra cafe, or a post-punk who were over at the Army/Navy store on St. Laurent down the block. You can be a prince, a pauper, a tycoon or a tike. All of them eat their steamies the same way.
I consider the Steamies at the pool room to be the metric used to evaluate others throughout the city. Are the buns as soft and warm as the Pool Room? Are their Lester's as juicy? How about the slaw? Is it a fresh crisp refreshing counterpoint? How about their onion ratio? The pool room has 105 years to get their hot dogs right, so what can I say? Practice makes perfect.
And finally, when you order those Steamies, don't forget to order a poutine to go with it. Remember that a poutine should realize its namesake - a fucking mess. You should see copious amounts of fresh fries, gravy and fresh squeaky cheese curds - they should make you feel like you just got a lap dance at a full contact club, that is, dirty, unhealthy and oh so nice. You should have the culinary equivalent of sweaty-all-over-and-face-glazed-like-a-donut. The poutines at the pool room should do exactly that. If it doesn't, you showed up at the wrong hot dog joint.
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