by Douglas Haddow | Canada is not America, and for this much I am grateful. That isn’t to say I’m not a fan of that colossal meat-grinder of a nation to the south. Far from it. I love America because I love the idea of being able to get wasted at a T.G.I. Friday’s while legally carrying a concealed handgun. I love the way it feels to walk into a 7-11 with a twenty-dollar bill and walk out with beer, cigarettes, beef jerky and a flap of grey market energy pills. I love America for its love of all things stupid, crude and spectacular.

But there comes a time when every Canadian must reflect on the state of our constitutional monarchy and wonder aloud whether or not we really are any better off than our American cousins. For me, that moment came soon after I polished off Triple O’s new Poutine Burger and washed it down with a Salted Caramel Pretzel Milkshake.

I was excited when I heard about the Vancouver-based burger chain’s latest “taste adventure”, because while The Baconator and Doritos Tacos Locos have made their way north of the 49th, we’ve yet to form a truly Canadian response to the caloric arms race that has for so long captured the American imagination. So last night I hopped on the Skytrain and went to the Triple O’s at the River Rock Casino (open all night in case you like your Pai Gow with a side of onion rings).

If judged on its own merits, the Poutine Burger is a hot mess of curds, gravy, beef, bacon and chipotle mayo. It is structurally unsound, and the additional helping of gravy provided is excessive to the point where it only serves to hasten the burger’s collapse. As a novelty item, it answers the question of whether or not poutine works as a condiment. The answer is no, not unless you want everything to taste like poutine, all the time.

And if we frame the Poutine Burger within the broader American fast food trend of excess for the sake of excess that it is attempting to emulate and compare it to KFC’s Double Down (the current vanguard of culinary nihilism), it is a massive failure.

The genius of the Double Down is not its garishness, but rather its unseen restraint. At first glance, the act of replacing a bun with two pieces of deep fried chicken shocks the senses. But if you were to put a bun around said two pieces of fried chicken, you’d be left with nothing more than a double chicken sandwich. Which is, of course, quite unremarkable. But by removing the bread, KFC leaves the meat naked and exposed, thus amplifying its presence and creating the illusion of unapologetic gluttony when in fact the Double Down has around the same amount of calories as a Quarter Pounder w/ Cheese.

Instead of playing up its strengths like the Double Down, the Poutine Burger reinforces the role of the bun by adding a layer of gravy-soaked fries below the patty, which coagulates to form a secondary starch membrane. It’s twice the bun and none of the fun because you’re forced to slurp up sloppy seconds off your hands once it all falls apart.

The Salted Caramel Pretzel Shake is more of the same – all simulacrum, no substance. What I expected to be a mind-bending blend of sweet and savoury was instead little more than a caramel shake with some pretzel crumbs mixed in for textural effect.

The in-store ad for the Poutine Burger features a serene evergreen landscape with a canoe resting on a tranquil lake, an iconic Canadian image that speaks to our nature and history. The irony here is that by doing “America” so poorly, the Poutine Burger lives up to its patriotic hubris and has reaffirmed why I’m so proud to be Canadian: unlike America, we’ve yet to give up and accept our downward spiral into idiocracy.

Fast food is a recession-proof industry, and its post-crash success demonstrates the collective mindset of its customers. Americans have chosen to support a faster, greasier, cheaper and more baconated future. But, as with our economy, Canadians have been more resilient, and the fact that we can’t replicate their nightmare vision of all-meat-everything should serve as a point of pride. Yes, the senate is in shambles, our housing market has bigger bubbles than a bottle of cheap sparkling wine, our largest city’s mayor [allegedly] smokes crack and we’ve skyrocketed to the top of the global corruption charts. But at least we’ve still got our dignity.

In the defence of Triple O’s (full disclosure: I patronize it religiously whenever aboard a BC Ferry), the Poutine Burger was technically only available until Oct. 27th, so perhaps their River Rock location is taking liberties with errant ingredients, which might go some way in explaining why my stomach still churns.

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Douglas Haddow is a Main Street-based writer and the Associate Editor at Scout. His work has appeared in The Guardian, Adbusters, Vice, Colors, Slate, Hobo, and various online ice hockey forums. He has a BA in film studies from UBC, is a reluctant Calgary Flames supporter and likes to drink and argue.