Poutine In My Mouth, My Mother ‘Effin Mouth


A few weeks ago, after I had been invited to a media-comped meal of various Quebecois treats at P’tit Soleil in Westwood, I knew I just had to make some sort of crazy poutine pun in my headline. It took me a while, but I’m thankful for the musical genius of Akinyele for the assist (link not safe for work, btw). Anyway, now that I’ve officially patted myself on the back for my vulgar punnage, let’s move on, shall we?


What do we know about poutine? Well, it’s a French Canadian indulgence involving gravy and cheese curds over fries. I first had it back in college on a fraternity trip up to Montreal where after a night of visiting such fine establishments as Club Super Sexe (real place, fake boobies), my BROS and I headed to McDonalds and enjoyed some poutine with our fries. Probably not the best exposure to the stuff. Fast forward 14 years [as I gently weep for time passed], and I found myself in the heart of “Tehrangeles,” amidst various eateries hawking any variety of Persian delicacies. Not P’tit Soleil, however. This place is all French Canadian all the time (sort of like Club Super Sexe, if you think about it, but probably more hygienic). Nevertheless, I was eager to reacquaint myself with poutine, even if it did mean loosening up the ol’ belt a notch or two.

Pics of the undertaking after the jump…

Aside from serving oodles of poutine, P’tit Soleil also has an extensive Canadian beer selection. I don’t remember what these were for the life of me, but the dark one on the right was my favorite. So…. just ask for THAT.”

Simply known on the menu as “Les Olives,” this dish was… olives! You really can’t go wrong with olives in my book. A tasty little bar snack.

Before we even got to the poutine, we had a few bites to enjoy, including these perfectly cooked croquettes (Croquettes de poulet). Filled with cheese and chicken and served with some brightly colored sauce, these were an immediate highlight of the meal.

Time for a new bird. These here are duck cakes. Also rather tasty. I enjoyed the cake on the right as the one on the left was seated in a pool of raspberry sauce (I’m not a raspberry fan, I’m sorry to say).

And now the main event. In the distance, classic poutine. Gravy, cheese curds, fries, happiness. In the foreground, Poutine du Prince Edward: cheese curds with mussels au gratin. I was a big fan of those. I mean, I liked the classic poutine as well, but the Prince Edward was très magnifique.

Poutine, unfortunately, is not very photogenic. Or healthy.

Oh here’s the classic one again. I can assuredly say this was a definite upgrade from the McDonald’s version of my youth.

Crevettes Heather. Named after a lady who always ordered this dish, these shrimp come in a cognac cream sauce. I have to say this lil’ plate made me very, very happy. Then again, almost any situation wherein shrimp appear shiny and sauced makes me happy.

I mean… This Heather woman really knew what was up.

The second round of PoutineFest begins. In the background: Poutine Marat (filet mignon, mushrooms, and a cognac cream sauce). In the foreground: Poutine Christine (a cognac peppercorn sauce). Both very tasty, particularly the Marat. The filet mignon was cooked perfectly, and as a result, it was soft, tender, and buttery. Like a lady.

I liked the mussels on the Prince Edward so much that they kitchen brought out a full dish of Moules au Gratin. People should know that P’tit Soleil (or perhaps its next door sister restaurant, Soleil) has an all-you-can-eat mussels offering on Wednesdays…

The dessert platter is charming and tasty, but nothing too memorable here. Certainly no complaints though.

The best dessert by far was this, the Tarte au Sucre. That translates to “sugar tart” (which is what I call prospective lovers). It’s definitely worth the $2, even if you can practically feel your dentist snarling at you from afar.

Overall I quite enjoyed my journey back to Montreal via P’tit Soleil. The food is definitely rich and heavy, but I think we’re all entitled to some of that from time to time. I’m certainly eager to return and try the AYCE mussels, and I might just grab a plate of those croquettes and Crevettes Heather along the way. For those seeking even more variety, fear not: there were at least four other poutine options on the menu that I didn’t try (including a Poutine Celine, named after Quebec’s most famous daughter).

P’tit Soleil
1386 Westwood Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90024

6 replies on “Poutine In My Mouth, My Mother ‘Effin Mouth”

  1. Unibroue makes some amazing beer. The dark one on the right was probably Troi Pistoles. One of the other two could be Fin du Monde or Maudite. All three are so jam packed with flavor its almost sinful. Love that brewery.

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