5 minute read
Filling Stations
Filling Stations
By James Philip Karst
One might assume a top-quality po-boy has to come from a sit-down establishment — or at least a specialty shop. It’s true that you can get a mighty fine sandwich at a real restaurant, but you can also find po-boys worth a special trip at convenience stores, gas stations and dive bars across the Gulf South and beyond, often offered at bargain prices.
It’s no coincidence that the early years of the po-boy coincided with the start of the Great Depression, when the American people had to pinch pennies, and the mobility revolution facilitated by the widespread adoption of the automobile. In the 1920s and 1930s, people needed cheap food that they could take from one place to another.
Convenience has always been a key part of any sandwich’s success, and you might think of it as a defining characteristic of the po-boy. In the Deep South, the po-boy was a pioneering fast food, developing in New Orleans before arriving in places like Biloxi, Mobile, Pensacola, and beyond, long before the drive-thru hamburger joint. Many a po-boy puts together a protein (meat or seafood), vegetables (lettuce and tomato), a starchy carbohydrate (the bread) and maybe even dairy (cheese) in a sturdy package. It’s really an all-in-one meal, built to travel in a way that is equaled by few others native to the region.
In the days before cellophane, Styrofoam and cardboard food packaging, a po-boy could be assembled, hot or cold, then wrapped in a sheet of butcher’s paper and secured with a piece of tape. The sandwich could then be tucked under an arm, stuffed into a bag or simply taken outside to be unwrapped and consumed on the spot.
That practicality has served the sandwich well throughout its history. The first known specific published reference to the po-boy, from November of 1929, describes a scene outside the courthouse in Pointe a la Hache, downriver from New Orleans. During a break in a high-profile trial, journalists, lawyers and onlookers went to a nearby lunch stand and ordered sandwiches to go — not to sit down and eat inside a restaurant. “Presently, the tree-shaded courthouse lawn was dotted with groups gnawing at the huge sandwiches New Orleans knows as the ‘po-boy sandwich,’” wrote the New Orleans States
Another description of the po-boy in its infancy, from a magazine published by the state Department of Conservation, details how young men from New Orleans would catch the old Smoky Mary train on Elysian Fields in the 1920s and ride out to Milneburg, a party town largely built on piers over Lake Pontchartrain. The men would grab food and drink before hopping aboard, armed with “three huge schooners of beer and three large ham or cheese
poboys (sic),” a package deal that cost them a grand total of just 15 cents at the old train station at Chartres Street.
Today, going to a convenience store or gas station for a po-boy may be the closest thing to the original po-boy experience. To maximize your pleasure, look for places that do a lot of business. That means that there is a lot of demand for the product — a good sign — and it also translates into fresh ingredients and sandwiches assembled on the spot. If you’re not sure how long the fried shrimp
has been sitting out or when the lettuce was sliced, feel free to ask. The people who make po-boys at mom-and-pop stores are proud of their quality, knowing that word of mouth goes a long way toward making or breaking a business’s reputation.
My experience is that fried shrimp and fried oyster po-boys are particularly well-suited for transportation but, with perhaps a few exceptions (such as a sloppy debris-filled roast beef po-boy), the contents of almost any po-boy will survive for hours.
Some quick-stop po-boy spots have turned the sandwich into an art form. Here are some excellent ones to try:
JO-BOB’S GAS & GRILL IN GRAND ISLE
“That’s the place to go,” says my girlfriend, and she knows what she’s talking about. It’s inside a gas station, and there’s always a line. By the time it’s your turn to order, your mouth will be watering and you’ll know exactly what to get. You can’t go wrong with anything on the menu, but because it’s Grand Isle, you might as well get a seafood po-boy.
BANH MI BOYS IN METAIRIE
This flagship location sits right next to a gas station. It has both bánh mi (a Vietnamese sandwich that resembles the po-boy in shape and in function) and traditional po-boys, in all the flavors.
KELLIE’S POOR BOY EXPRESS IN PICAYUNE
Kellie’s carries all the classics. No frills. None needed. Try the “Kellie’s Special” with roast beef, ham and cheese. Better grab some napkins. Save half for me?
FAYARD’S IN BILOXI
This gem has carved out its own niche, presenting a “dressed and pressed” po-boy that will leave you impressed. There are also locations in Gulfport and Ocean Springs. My advice is to try them all. Rinse. Repeat.
