Here's a joint that has the look many of us of Baby-Boom age and older recognize as the proper venue for poor boy sandwiches: a ramshackle dump on a side street. The menu is from the old school, too: they make virtually any variety of sandwich known to man, as well as a few platters of this and that. I wish I could say that these were brilliant sandwiches, but they're just slightly above average. (Warming the bread would help.)
NEEDS REVISIONIt's almost a given that the older poor boy shops have a certain something in their sandwiches that latter-day vendors never quite get right. The problem with the old joints, through, is that they have a way of running out of gas and disappearing. The Southern has grown in size and menu consistently, particularly in the last ten or so years. The full line of poor boys is here, with enough platters that you could call it a full-service restaurant.
The Southern has been there as long as I can remember, and I grew up in this neighborhood. It was one of the early returners after the hurricane.
If it's been a long time since you've been here--or if you suspected that its stark exterior indicated grubbiness inside--take another look. They've performed a major renovation that makes the place presentable enough to take an out-of-town visitor. The floors and walls are painted with fanciful Cajun scenes.
The small sandwich is plenty enough for a standard appetite, even though the large is sold for the going price for a standard locally. Ask them to heat the bread if you're getting a poor boy, and not to heat it if you're getting a muffuletta. Like many shops, they get this backwards.
| Attitude | 1 |
|---|---|
| Environment | 1 |
| Hipness | 0 |
| Local Color | 1 |
| Service | 0 |
| Value | 2 |
| Wine | 0 |
