Did I say gastropod? (That's because I love animals that poop on their heads.) I guess I meant gastropub, which is a word I can't bear. Other stupidities you may encounter at Linda Derschang's new establishment: hipsters, yuppies, crowds. One motherfucking amazing word that will lay you out flat: poutine. Smith's poutine—fries, salty gravy, cheese curds just kissed by the frying pan—may or may not be authentic, but I'm getting faint just wanting it. (Smith, 332 15th Ave E, 709-1900. Poutine until 11 pm, 21+.)