A Tale of Two Po’ Boys
A New Orleans Sandwich Dispatch
On one of my earliest visits to New Orleans, my friend and NOLA-obsessive Anna led me through the seediness of Bourbon Street to a grimy-looking, 24-hour corner store.
Although it was broad daylight, Verti Marte (1201 Royal Street) or “Dirty Verti,” as locals affectionately call it, did not look like a place you’d want to set foot in, let alone a place you’d voluntarily opt to purchase perishable food.
We pushed open the security gate-covered doors, snaked through the narrow aisles and came upon a deli case teeming with prepared foods that did not inspire confidence (see below).
I gave Anna an apprehensive look and she glared back at me, giving me that, “don’t you dare doubt my decision to come here; this will be one of the best meals of the trip” stare.
She was right. Against all odds the kitchen at this convenience store dive turns out one of the most exquisite po’ boys in all of New Orleans, featuring the freshest Gulf seafood, fried to order.
So last month when BB and I found ourselves in desperate need of a protein bump after a sugary beignet breakfast at Cafe du Monde, we wandered over to Verti Marte and ordered “a shrimp, dressed” (with shredded lettuce, tomato and signature “wow” sauce).
As we waited for our order, BB gave me that same skeptical gaze I had thrown at Anna years ago. I smiled back, knowing what was coming our way.
We wandered over to a nearby park to eat our po’ boy since the front curb—Verti Marte’s “dining room”—was particularly unsavory that morning.
We unpacked a sandwich the size of a grown man’s forearm along with an unruly wad of brown paper towels—a foreshadowing of the glorious mess to come.
Once the steam dissipated, I bit into the piping hot shrimp. The combo of salty, spiced breading and sweet, juicy meat drenched in tangy house sauce—a white remoulade-style affair, heavy on the creole mustard—had me swooning with pleasure.
Not only were the shrimp perfectly seasoned and cooked, but the sesame-studded French loaf had just the right amount of chew and the ice cold shrettuce offset the shrimp’s heat.
The magical mixture of these ingredients and the swarthiness of Verti Marte makes this shrimp po’ boy one of my all-time favorite sandwiches.
On all but one trip to New Orleans I’ve stayed at the wonderful Lookout Inn in the east end of Bywater, a quirky enclave filled with colorful houses, vintage shops, outré artworks and some of the best dive bars in the country.
I’d been curious about this odd little white house that sits catty-corner from the Inn since 2015 and I finally popped in for a quick refuel after an evening of bar-hopping in December.
In an area overrun with hipster establishments, Jack Dempsey’s (738 Poland Ave) has stood its ground as one of the neighborhood’s last remaining old-school, family-run eateries.
A neon sign hanging over the bar proudly announced the restaurant’s specialties: seafood and steak. This main dining room’s vinyl chairs, laminate tables and too-bright lighting gave off a no-frills, come-as-you-are vibe.
The night we stopped in, a gaggle of sensibly-dressed, gray-haired ladies (a group of assistant principals, perhaps?) celebrated the holidays with overflowing platters of fried seafood and heaping sides of mac’n’cheese and potato salad.
I felt somewhat sheepish ordering a po’ boy to split, but our young waitress assured us in her thick “Yat” accent that it wouldn’t be a problem.
When the po’ boy appeared, I could see why. Even in a city known for indulgent eating, this thing looked preposterous. The classic Leidenheimer roll was no match for the supersized soft-shelled crabs whose legs poked out on all sides.
The crabs were outstanding. The signature crunch of the soft shell gave way to an interior gushing with juice.
I missed the irresistible zip of Verti Marte’s sauce, however, so I splashed some Crystal on top. The vinegar-laced hot sauce perked the sandwich up a bit but next time I would ask for a bottle of homemade remoulade (which I spied on nearby tables only after finishing our meal).
This is a locals’ place, so even though this wasn’t my favorite po’ boy, my assessment doesn’t matter to the room full of smiling and laughing regulars, who did not seem daunted by the generous portions. In a rapidly changing neighborhood, it’s wonderful that this stalwart of classic New Orleans is holding strong.
All photos by Jared Wheeler
If you enjoyed this post, please forward it to someone who’d enjoy it, and tap the heart icon above or below, which will help me reach more readers. Thanks!