Most inexpensive luncheries in the Central Business District are and always been terrible. This is one of the exceptions. Serio's specializes in poor boys, made by ladies who look as if they've been at it for awhile. There's the most comprehensive list of potential fillings you're likely to find--liver cheese, anyone?--and all of them are first-class. The bread and the dressings are fresh and crisp. A board of plate specials features all the standards.
The transformation of the Central Business District into a neighborhood of hotels continues. This has improved the quality of the many small lunchrooms that dot the area. Serio's--a maker of one-at-a-time, handmade sandwiches, has always been one of the good ones.
Serio's opened a few feet from where it is now in the 1950s, when the downtown area was bustling and multiple lines formed in the dining room every day at lunchtime. That scene continued for a long time, as the place evolved from a bright, utilitarian space into a darker, much less busy restaurant, always patronized primarily by locals.
The place is a total shrine to LSU sports. There are icons of that mania everywhere you look. The food comes from what looks like a cafeteria line in the rear. You place your order, pay for it, then wait to pick it up. You find a worn-out table in the worn-out room, unroll the paper wrapper from the sandwich, then go to town.
Specify that you want the sandwich cut into two pieces. Open the sandwich and move all the meat, cheese, and dressings from the right half to the left half. Throw away the extra bread. You now have a modern poor boy, instead of the old-style, less meaty example Serio's has made for six decades.
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