It’s not something I can understand, but I’m told that cilantro is one of those love-or-hate flavors. Speaking for myself, cilantro does not taste like soap. It tastes like heaven. I am absolutely crazy about the flavor of cilantro. And the pairing of cilantro and lime is indescribable. While this Mexican food pairing supersedes any other pairing, I also like the Vietnamese pairing of cilantro and pickled vegetables.
While I have been maybe too vocal about my distaste of assertive Vietnamese flavors in general, the Banh Mi sandwich screams the pairing of cilantro and pickled vegetables. No matter what meat is in this sandwich, what my palate picks up more than anything else is the dressings. And the Don Phuong roll, which is in a class by itself. The Vietnamese learned their baking skills in the French occupation, but they have their own approach, and I love their approach. There is nothing like the Don Phuong roll.
The first time I tried a Banh Mi my eyes literally popped with these sensational new flavors and textures. I have had my share of Vietnamese food and remain committed to the opinion I have shared, but this sandwich is an exception. I recently went back to Banh Mi Boys and bought a few things. I had never visited the actual place that I had seen and heard so much about.
The one in Metairie is part of a gas station at Transcontinental and Airline Dr. It’s a cute space that almost makes me forget it shares a wall with a convenience store where you pay for gas and buy lottery tickets. They have made a very nice outdoor dining patio with lots of picnic tables. Inside is mostly a pick up counter, as you would expect from a gas station tenant.
The heat deters no one, because they are there for the food. And the food is a draw. The menu at Banh Mi Boys is gigantic, especially for a kitchen this small. I want to return for a bowl sometime, but I really wanted some sandwiches. First I got the pork sandwich on the requisite Don Phuong roll. And I got a brisket sandwich. And I became curious when I saw a regular New Orleans poor-boy in a small section of three sandwiches. From there I ordered a roast beef poor boy. The place is crazy busy but the food arrives quickly. It comes from behind the counter through a window where you can see only the faces of the staff and how fast they move.
The brisket Banh Mi was terrific. Tender sliced brisket was generously piled into the outstanding Don Phuong roll which was toasted just so on the outside. The fresh dressings were stuffed on top, spilling out in a most appealing way. Vietnamese condiments collided to enhance these perky flavors from the veggies, and the entire thing explodes on your palate.
A grilled pork sandwich repeats all of this, except that the pork was seared in more exotic and delicious flavors and stuffed into the roll, with meat morsels peaking out in every direction. This pork was as tender as the brisket. Delicious.
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Dear reader; order a New Orleans poor boy anywhere else. Let the Vietnamese guys do Banh Mi, and let New Orleans people (like directly across the street at Russell’s) do poor boys. I have never seen the like of this roast beef poor boy. It was soupy and stringy and truly terrible on sight.
But why would anyone order a New Orleans poor boy at a Banh Mi place? While both are sandwiches, the differences are otherworldly. Both are equal in goodness to me, and that is saying something coming from a traditionalist like me.
