Yes, there are a few bits of tradition stuffed in Park Place Restaurant’s version of the Po’ Boy.
Crispy fried shrimp is a common feature on the famed New Orleans sandwich, and chefs Jeremy Zabel and Francisco Cervantes even take the extra step of sourcing shellfish from the gulf. Tomatoes and pickles are also authentic, at least to a “dressed” Po’ Boy.
Ah, but these two are quite willing to give culinary custom the snub. Red onions? Slaw? Aioli? They even risk the outrage of dogmatic diners by using ciabata in place of delta-style French bread.
“It’s not traditional,” an unapologetic Zabel said. “There’s even a little arugula hiding in there.”
Yes, arugula. And before fans of the classic Po’ Boy express any further dismay, the subtle addition of the leaf encourages a mumbling peppery note to speak with a little more confidence. It braces the bite from the pickle and lends depth to pricks of spice in the sauce.
The pickle — house made and dubbed “frisky pickle” — trims the aioli, and brightens the creamy, somnolent slaw. The dressing, with the raspy snap of red onion and the light, fruitiness of tomato, is something that would cause chefs in the Big Easy to question their culinary faith. It traces from a rumbling earthiness to a fresh and pleasant ray of sweetness, measuring hints of heat, tang, mead, brine languid richness and cavorting juices along the way.
“We wanted to keep it on the lighter side,” Zabel explained. “We wanted the shrimp to be the center of the sandwich.”
Ah, the shrimp. Too often restaurants rely on shellfish farmed with little care. The meat becomes placid, notable only for a clean and slightly sweet character. The gulf shrimp selected by Zabel and Cervantes recalls the savor of those netted by tossing boats — lean and sweet, yes, but with a hint of salinity and a rustic, musty foundation.
“Shrimp, like oysters, are a taste of place,” Zabel said, pointing out that gulf shellfish have more of a churlish, provincial nature.
There is heartiness to the shrimp and it is favored by the homey crust, offering impressions of malty grain and toasted spice.
“Born on the Bayou” — Park Place’s name for the sandwich — is what a Po’ Boy wants to be. Even the choice of ciabatta works, thanks to a crisp veneer over the fluffy bread. The shape even mimics the square heeled New Orleans-style French bread baked specifically for the Po’ Boy.
It is different, but Zabel believes it suits Lake County and California.
“One of the cool things about this area is that people are used to seeing different takes on the classics,” he observed.
So the sandwich likely began in the 1800s as a combination of fried oysters and bread. It was first identified as a Po’ Boy — at least in print — in a 1929 newspaper article not long after the streetcar workers strike that supposedly gave the sandwich its name. It became a New Orleans institution, stuffed with shellfish, catfish, crab, hot links, or roast beef with “debris,” dressed or undress.
It was so good, it spilled from the banks of the Mississippi delta. But wherever it traveled, whatever protein was involved, tradition always called for that French bread and a dressing of lettuce, tomato, pickle and mayonnaise.
Thanks to the chefs at Park Place, people will have to rethink tradition.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
