In the spirit of the Olympic games, I've been trying to shake my rabid jingoism and appreciate everything America's Hat has to offer. Obviously, it's been difficult. However, according to Google and a few expats taking asylum in the Lower East Side, the "great" white north is actually responsible for some pretty awesome stuff. For instance, there's hockey, sketch comedy set to goofy music, 95% of the world's fresh water, Ryan Reynolds' cheese-grating abs, polar bears, Pamela Anderson's ball-dropping hotness, circa 1996 (Although her tits are American-made) and finally, poutine. Poutine, from the French meaning, "Soon to be poo" is a brilliant combination of french fries, gravy, cheese curds and socialized healthcare that can only be described as Quebec's finest attempt at an apology for Céline Dion since Emanuelle Chriqui. Now, I can pretty much endorse anything fried, covered in gravy, and smothered in cheese. But then they go and name it something that sounds like a magazine for adolescent feces, how could I not get behind this dish? Congratulations 'Nucks. Though I had my doubts about Bryan Adams, clearly, the poutine shows you knew what you were doing. And after I dig into a piping hot plate of it, with glowing hearts, you'll see me rise. My moose knuckle, that is.