Arrived in the Big Easy and LaQuinta was hospitable as ever for Cassie pup. Smiles and petting all around. She guarded the door carefully from the other monster dogs in our hall.
The evening was warm and a break in the drizzle afforded us time to walk the few blocks to this 1938 institution. The fellow at the door gave us strict orders when we entered: Here’s a menu. Decide what you want. Get in line over there. Place your order and pay. No tipping. Mistakes are easier to fix before you order than after, so be sure its right. Someone will bring you your order when it’s ready.
Now if you’re from Connecticut, you order grinders or subs. In Pennsylvania its hoagies. Here the sandwich is a po’ boy. Or if you’re Italian, a muffuletta. We decided on two Ferdi specials: po’ boys packed with baked ham, roast beef, debris and gravy. Debris? Found out what that was when we got our order: a container of the roast beef that falls into the gravy while baking in the oven. And couldn’t resist the Mother’s Bread Pudding with Brandy sauce. People watching was half the fun– this is an authentic New Orleans institution that survived Katrina and continues to prosper.