A pretty poor po-boy

I came to New Orleans with a general list of things I wanted to do: hang out with Sara, explore the city, eat and drink. As for the eating part, I also made a list of things I wanted to eat while I'm here: beignets, jambalaya, gumbo, fried oysters, and po-boy sandwiches, just to name a few.

I spent the first part of Friday walking along the river, wandering the Contemporary Art Center and the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, then strolling the streets lined with galleries and warehouses. By about 1:30 in the afternoon, I was starved. I pulled out my guidebook, figured out where I was, and decided that my best lunch option would be Mother's. According to Lonely Planet, Mother's is a New Orleans establishment serving up some of the best po-boys in town and it was only a few blocks from where I was; I could easily walk there before my hunger took over and would bring me to my knees in pure starvation.

I walked into Mother's and up to the counter and ordered a debris sandwich. I had no clue what is was but Lonely Planet recommended not leaving New Orleans without getting one from Mother's. Pretty nice praise, so of course I had to do it. It turned out that a debris sandwich is one with beef and soaked with meat juice. I could do that. I took a seat and a nice black man took my ticket. I asked if he would also bring me my food or if I had to get it myself, and he said he would take care of me. He came back with a paper pocket with silverware and a napkin. And, then he came around again with my sandwich. It looked okay. Nothing too fancy. It was a French roll with shredded beef, some mayo, mustard, and pickles. And, it was sitting in a pool of juice. I would get dirty. I would use many napkins.

This was not the time to be dainty. I dug in. I got my fingers all up in that wet bread. It was a little gross, but if people love this sandwich I would love it too. I took my first bite. It was okay. The beef was a little tough and the meat juice wasn't all that flavorful. The whole sandwich sort of lacked pizzazz. It was too bland. I wanted to add hot sauce but didn't want to make a bigger mess. I wanted more mustard and more pickles, something with flavor. I was saddened. Maybe I ordered the wrong thing. Maybe I should have ordered a crayfish po-boy. Maybe a turkey one. Maybe potato salad would make it better. Everyone else in the restaurant seemed to be enjoying their food. I finished my sandwich, though, disappointed at both my sandwich and Lonely Planet. I expected so much more from both of them.