Just Like Mom Made.

Mother's has been around 85 years, and I could count the times I’ve been there on one hand, which is surprising because in general I like institutions. Tom was not a fan of Mother’s either, so we went one time many years ago and I went alone once pre-COVID. 

In the ensuing years I chuckled when I passed and saw a line of tourists who had obviously gotten their info on social media, but lately I have noticed Mother’s on more than a few lists of recommended places. I usually pay no attention to these lists because they are often ridiculous, but Mother’s has arrived on credible lists. I decided to go back and see what I was missing about the place.

I knew that they served breakfast, and the Food Show producer declared her love of their biscuits. I had to try the famous ham, and in my eternal quest for great fried chicken I had to get that. And I would of course get the famous Ferdie. As a jambalaya fanatic I would have gotten that, but I distinctly remember it being a red jambalaya from many years ago, and that is a deal breaker for me.

Since the line is sporadic, I hoped to arrive without one. I did indeed get there before the line. My arrival time was 10:20 ish, before lunch and technically after breakfast. But the pilgrims started to arrive as I was leaving. I chose to be served rather than pick up from the cafeteria-style line. The place is interesting enough to get a following just on its New Orleans camp. Exposed brick walls are covered with pictures of people who have dined there, as is so often the custom in institutions. Tables are the barest possible in style, and the food is behind glass in the serving line. The kitchen is behind the line and food is handed to servers through a window,

I ordered a two egg breakfast that comes with grits or cheesy grits. There is a biscuit and a choice of breakfast meats with this. I got the ham, but was asked if I wanted it fried or not. When I said I like it crusty I was told to get the fried ham. The idea that the baked ham was dropped in oil before serving seemed unappealing, but I said yes. I asked about potatoes but was told I could not get those as part of this breakfast plate. 

When I ordered the fried chicken I asked about the sides, of which there were many. I asked to sub the jambalaya for fries but was told jambalaya is its own thing, so no. I ordered potato salad and boiled cabbage. And I got the Ferdie poor boy.

The breakfast reaffirmed my thoughts about the food, i.e., as ordinary as it gets The eggs were a little underdone, the biscuit needed toasting, (a request denied,) and the ham was too thick and very uninteresting. The grits were congealed a bit and in critical need of salt, along with everything else on this breakfast plate. At least the accompanying little packets were real butter.

The fried chicken plate arrived and my fortunes changed completely. This was hot out of the fryer, greaseless, and golden brown. Exactly as all fried chicken should be. The batter was delicate and salty but not too salty, just like any mom from the early 20th century would have made. The chicken itself was not extra large like the bloated birds of today. Fried chicken perfection. 

The potato salad had that unfortunate texture of being a mousse. To my taste, potato salad should be chunky. This too was right out of the same time period, and was scooped on those scoopers with the thumb release like the ones in school cafeteria. Ugh. Any memory of any school cafeteria in my experience is not a recommendation.

The boiled cabbage reminded me of a meal in the home of my youth, where my part German mother subjected us to this dish weekly. It's not a good memory. This was about as ordinary as that. It was perfectly fine for someone desiring to eat boiled cabbage from the last century, but I do hope those are few. If I wasn't wrong about this, it likely wouldn't still be on the menu. or perhaps it's what the tourists think they should do.

I was most surprised by the Ferdie poor boy, A signature of Mother’s, it has the famous Mother's baked ham sliced thinly. Roast beef slices and debris occupy the other side of the sandwich, with mayo and pickles. A dear friend of the show and the owner of Trenasse restaurant in the CBD, is on a campaign to replace shredded lettuce with shredded cabbage on poor boys. He was already winning me over to his side, but this Ferdie cinched it. The crunch of the shredded cabbage was the perfect foil of the softness of everything else about this poor boy.

The roast beef gravy is more like a jus, and by the time I gor around to trying it the bottom of the sandwich was soggy. I still loved it. I’ve never seen a combo of roast beef slices and debris, so I guess that’s another distinction here. The ham was thinly sliced and I can see its appeal. A ham poor boy by itself here would be a wonderful thing. And I could see it being a thing to get by itself. It's not as good as Tom's Root Beer Glazed version of ham, but it is very good.

People were starting to steadily come in and fill up the place, which started to buzz. Mother’s will never be a favorite of mine, but I do get it. Any tourist who ate there would come away thinking this is New Orleans, whether that is true or not.