I had the world’s best sandwich (no joke) while in New Orleans, at this hole in the wall restaurant called Pascal Manale’s. It was a barbecued shrimp sandwich, served in the requisite squishy bread. New Orleanians really have it figured out: the bread is soft enough to absorb any juices from the filling without falling apart, and the crust doesn’t hurt the roof of your mouth. It’s brilliant.
Back to the sandwich: this was shrimp, perfectly barbecued, sitting in shrimp juices and clarified butter with lots of cracked black pepper. The bun was hollowed out and then stuffed full of shrimp, and that’s why it’s the world’s best sandwich. See, nothing falls out. You take a bite, and anything – shrimp, shrimp juice or butter – that didn’t make it in your mouth just falls further into the sandwich. By the time you’re at the end of the sandwich, it’s completely saturated with shrimp and butter goodness.
I ate this with two other foodies, and the three of us went dead silent after the first bite. We could only stare at each other over our sandwich, eyes wide open in amazement.
1838 Napoleon Ave
New Orleans, LA