Poutine won't win a beauty contest, it sounds like a insult (you feelthy poutine), and like all proper Englishmen I distrust anything even vaguely French, but it's oddly quite tasty. Chips, cheese, gravy. It's pretty much like eating an entire northerner, except that the chips are in a tray rather than on the shoulder.
Mind you, the only time I lived in Ottawa was over the winter, during the ice storms and minus 30s/40s, so I was cold enough to superconduct. I'd would have eaten anything hot and calorific.