For as long as I can remember, Parasol’s in the Irish Channel was THE Irish Channel bar, and the home of the great poor boy sandwich. But by the time I started paying attention, the owners of Parasol’s had move down the street to Tracey’s, and Parasol’s had new owners that I thought were the old Tracey’s owners.
This is so confusing I won’t take you down a weird path because it’s not really relevant to this piece comparing the two roast beef poor boys. But Tracey’s dates to 1948 and Parasol’s to 1952, although both bars had previous owners and names. The curiosity I had about both places and both sandwiches drove me to compare the two places and their sandwiches, though each place has a full menu of bar-type food.
Tracey’s is no longer a block from Parasol’s. It has relocated to the revolving-door space that once housed Byblos and later Salu and I’m sure others. Its next-door neighbor is Basin Seafood. Both Tracey’s spaces both old and “new” come across as worn and dirty to me.
Parasol’s, which I used to feel that way about, just seems cute and old. I liked the scene there very much. Both places have a storied history in the neighborhood as the neighborhood bar, much like pubs in England are. They are regular haunts for all the neighbors.
But what about the fabled roast beef sandwich? I went to try them both side by side. I ordered one from Parasol’s for pick-up, but I wanted to stay and eat. The little back space where you pick up the sandwich is charming. I had called it in 30 minutes before I arrived, and I was told when ordering it that it would be 10 minutes. I expected a soggy mess.
I also called Tracey’s a number of times and no one picked up any of the times I called, forcing me to place the order and wait. When I arrived there was a single couple in the whole place at the bar. I ordered there first and drove down to Parasol’s to pick up that order while I waited for the Tracey’s sandwich to be made.
The sandwich at Parasol’s was sitting alone waiting for me to pick it up. I mentioned to the girl at the window that I had called 30 minutes ago and she told me she had just wrapped it. I was relieved that it might not be soggy.
When I returned to Tracey’s I picked up a styrofoam box with the smaller sandwich cut into two. The Tracey’s bill was $17 and some change, and the Parasol’s was $15 something.
The Parasol’s sandwich was a mess. Totally soggy top and bottom, with no part of the sandwich free of gravy. It covered the top as well. Either the young lady that gave it to me me told me she just wrapped it to make me feel better, or there is far too much gravy on this sandwich. In the styrofoam box the sandwich from Tracey’s had no such problem. There wasn’t really much gravy on that one at all.
It’s a good thing I keep a lot of napkins in the car because each bite I took of the Parasol’s sandwich required a napkin for my hands. I found this sandwich inedible. I could smell the garlic inches away from my mouth. I love garlic a lot, but I don’t think one should be able to smell anything from far away from the mouth. The smell was a harbinger of the taste, which was not horribly overwhelming, but it was the predominant taste. I was also shocked that purveyors of roast beef poor boys do not understand Rule One: cut the meat across the grain. Otherwise it will be stringy. The Parasol’s poor boy was a garlicky, stringy mess. There was a lot of roast beef here, but I didn’t really want to eat it.
There was not much of anything happening with the Tracey’s sandwich. It was not overwhelming with garlic, gravy, or much flavor. And it too, was stringy roast beef. Both sandwiches did have nice dressings, so that’s something …I guess.
But with all the roast beef poor boys out there in New Orleans, I can’t think of a single reason to make either of these places a destination, unless you want to immerse yourself in the culture of Irish Channel life in the early 20th century. That may be worthwhile, but pick up a sandwich somewhere else before or after.
