After a night involving more martini's than I can recall I wound up at Smoke's Poutinerie. The line up was massive but it moved quite quickly (in spite of douchie young drunkards - most likely fresh from a nearby disco-tech - attempting to cut the line) so don't be alarmed if you find yourself in a poutine ravenous queue. You will be served sooner than later.
Now this might be the least Canadian statement I'll ever utter, but when I'm not inebriated I actually don't really care for poutine. I'll occasionally steal a fry from a friend's poutine, but I'd never soberly order it for myself. I think it's because I like my fries to stay crispy. Perhaps I would be on board with a thicker gravy that didn't saturate into the fries so readily. Regardless - poutine? Not really my thing.
That being said, I can appreciate that this is pretty much the food of the gods to those who have had one drink too many. In spite of the copious amount of alcohol I'd consumed, I woke up the next morning hangover free! I do, however, feel that they could put a lot less salt in the gravy. Even with a gin-drenched palette I still found it to be comparable to salt lick.