Rouses_FB_July_August_2017

the Burger issue

between the Bread words & photo by Pableaux Johnson

I n the po-boy world, the options seem to go on forever. And though I’ve been known to obsess over a crispy oyster po- boy or dive headfirst into a gravy-soaked roast beef po-boy, I’ve always had a deep affection for another branch of the sandwich’s family tree — the hamburger po-boy. These meaty, pan-fried classics tend to get a lot more love from locals who grew up inside po-boy culture than visitors digging into their first “Peacemaker.” They’re often sentimental favorites, delicious memory triggers wrapped in wax paper — lunchtime reminders of the past, with a bag of Zapp’s on the side. Crossover Classics The hamburger po-boy is a straight-ahead crossover classic. If a restaurant has a griddle and some good ground beef, it’s got two distinct menu items catering to different-sized appetites. The iconic po-boy bread — shatter- crisp on the outside with a whisper-light interior, makes for a bite-to-bite contrast that’s different from a pillow-soft hamburger bun. As a kid, this sandwich was my gateway into the Wonderful World of Po-boys. Growing

up in New Iberia in the 1970s, there weren’t many restaurant options beyond neighborhood burger joints and a few boiling points that ramped up when the springtime crawfish started hitting the tables. Joe’s Drive-In was a few blocks from our house with a flashing arrow sign, oyster- shell parking lot and a dozen tables inside a low-slung brick dining room. The menu was the usual South Louisiana selection of burger variations, fried seafood and a daily plate lunch featured on the sign outside. Our family would visit Joe’s once in a great while for celebrations, always ordering as a big family with decidedly limited options. (“Choose cheese or no cheese. There are four of you, so you can split two orders of fries. Small sodas.”) Still, any meal out was a special occasion, and the 8-year-old me fantasized about the wonders of the rest of themenu.(“Ahamburger steak sounds fancy.What’s on a catfish plate?”) Sometime during early grade school, I swore that when I had my own money to spend, I’d get to make my own choices at Joe’s.

A few years later, I walked through the dining room doors, my pockets burning with my first paper-route payday and my mind reeling with the full menu of possibilities. Flush with cash at age 11, I’d explore the menu one paycheck at a time. After searching the list, I settled on the old and new: hamburger po-boy (dressed, no mayo, no tomato, add mustard), fries and onion rings. I could have started with a standard burger “all to myself,” but decided to level up, realizing that a po-boy was two tasty burgers disguised as a single item. A few bites in, I started to understand the magic of the burger in po-boy form — a distinct texture that serves a kid’s sense of plenty and decadence. (Once you finish one delicious burger, you’ve got another wrapped up and ready to go.) Forme,thememory of a first “grown-up”meal, paid for with my first work money, makes the hamburger po-boy special and worth ordering every once in awhile, just for nostalgia’s sake. If po-boys are available at a burger joint, I’ll give them a try. The folks at Parkway

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MY ROUSES EVERYDAY JULY | AUGUST 2017