NOLA Poboys — Restaurant in New Orleans

1st, I must state that New Orleans food is 2nd to none. During my many years of going to the festivals, I've encountered some awesome people. I've never had a problem until my last visit.

I was excited about exploring new eating establishments. Each year we try, usually 2 new places. The first place I visited, 12 thumbs up!! The food, service, people, workers.... I can't express how FABULOUS everything was!!!

Then we visited NOLA Poboys. I had researched the establishment and deemed it would be great!! It had a great food menu selection. My mouth was watering for my selection.... especially the fried okra!!

However, on the last day of my visit, I wanted to make sure I went to NOLA Poboys. When I got there, I waited in line. I was checking out the menu. It had everything I wanted.

I ordered a shrimp poboy, fries, catfish poboy, and fried okra. After I place my order and took a seat. I kept thinking something wasn't right about the price. When I found, what I thought was the mistake, I went back up and waited in line to ask my questions.

I said to the elderly gentleman, sir, on your sign, it says poboy 8" - 10" price say 10.99, 14.99 and 17.99. I ordered the 8" and you charged me 14.99. He precedes to tell me I didn't know how to read a menu. He pointed a pin lighter to show me. I was like hey, no problem. Again, I raised my hands and said no problem!!! Ok... ok!

I went back to my seat. I looked online. Online it says the poboy is $9.99. I returned to the counter. I said sir, as I'm preparing to show him on my phone, online it says the poboy is 9.99. He says I don't care what it says online and you can't read a menu. I said ok... ok... I'm going to write a review anyway. I return to my seat.

Then I proceed to film the menu. I was trying to get a picture of him. He kept stepping so I couldn't. I decided I didn't need his picture. I knew I'd remember the gray haired elderly gentleman... He seemed to be the owner or incharge. One of the men bringing out orders came out. He served the order. He called the gentleman over to him. He went to the back.

The Elderly gentleman said what's your name. I started looking around. I gesture as if to say me. He said yeah you. I walked up to the counter and said, why do you need to know my name?

He proceeds to say we're not going to sale to you. You need to learn how to read a menu. He continued to talk as he was getting my money out of the cash registration and put it on the counter. I said sir, what about my tip? He seemed taken aback. As I was leaving, he continued saying I didn't know how to read a menu.... Maybe he didn't hear me as I said. Maybe I can't read, I'm a certified SPECIAL EDUCATION teacher, so I can deal with people like you!!!

I passed my test for that day!!! That wasn't right. It seemed like he thought I was an easy mark or maybe he does this on the regular!!! Yes I know how to read a menu very well!!

I left there and we decided to eat our last New Orleans, Louisiana meal at one of my favs, Deanie"s.

We got a totally awesome meal for a lesser price. We got 2 foot long shrimp poboys and fries for much less. The food was amazing!!

** I guess the morales to this situation...

Learn to read... Reading is fundamental Know how to estimate the price Ask questions for clarification Don't allow yourself to be bullied Keep your cool... Don't allow others to control you Be respectful **YOU WIN IN THE END!!!

DEANIES I will return, next time getting my seafood...

Down here, we don’t stand on ceremony unless it’s the kind that involves a second line and a brass band playing loud enough to wake the dearly departed.

NOLA Poboys don’t have time for pretense because it’s too busy doing what needs doing—feeding the hungry, the hungover, and the hopelessly in love with the kind of food that don’t ask for permission before it takes over your soul.

The place looks like someone threw a party and never bothered to clean up, but that’s exactly the point. There’s a certain beauty in that kind of chaos—Mardi Gras beads tangled in the rafters like relics of past mistakes, faded Saints memorabilia tacked onto walls already drowning in stories,

and a menu that reads like a greatest hits album of Gulf Coast excess. You don’t come here for artfully drizzled reductions or some sad little microgreens trying to act important. You come here to be reminded that good food is loud, messy, and utterly without shame.

Now, let’s talk business. Bourbon Street is where people make mistakes, but NOLA Poboys is where they make amends. This is where you stumble in after a long night of bad decisions and find solace.

Over 45 po’boy options stare you in the face like a roll call of salvation—whether it’s catfish, roast beef debris, or something smothered to the point of spiritual transcendence, you could close your eyes, point, and still find yourself blessed.

But even among saints, there are legends, and here that legend wears the name muffuletta. If you ain’t had one here, well, God help you, because you’ve been walking through life missing something vital. It’s a sandwich with its sleeves rolled up and its fists clenched, unapologetic in its size, its weight, its sheer audacity. Thick rounds of sesame bread cradle a mountain of salami, ham, mortadella, and provolone, all held together with a sinful layer of olive salad that don’t give a damn about your delicate palate. It ain’t trying to be dainty. It ain’t here to impress. It’s here to do what New Orleans food has always done—fill you up, set you right, and give you enough strength to make it to the next round of trouble.

And that’s the thing about NOLA Poboys. It understands that eating ain’t just about hunger—it’s about recovery, about pleasure, about honoring the long, storied tradition of getting full in a way that makes you feel alive. It’s not a restaurant, it’s a lifeline. And if you don’t know, well, buddy, it’s about time...

First I want to say, the shorthaired blonde girl that was at the register was amazing. She helped me make a change to my order shortly after I ordered so I could enjoy my food, and seemed genuinely happy to help. She was lovely. Now to the food, I wish I could give this place five stars, but I cant. If it was based solely on the debris fries I had id give it a 1000/10. The pot roast was so tender, juicy, flavorful. The cheese sauce was rich, smooth & creamy and I loved how they had creole seasoning and hot sauce on the table....BUT I also got a poboy, the fried shrimp topped with gumbo, I believe it was called the Da Yat. First bite I was decently happy. Gumbo was decent, and the shrimp was crispy, though it could have used a bit more flavor...(this was easily fixed with the complimentary Tony's on the table) but then I realized there was a bitter flavor I wasn't really liking within my sandwich. I started analyzing it and realized not a single one of the shrimps was deveined. It really turned me off to my sandwich. I ended up having to pick through the shrimp and pull the veins out myself which resulted in getting gumbo everywhere and using copious amounts of napkins..and being as the shrimp was breaded i ended up loosing alot of breeding. It was just disappointing because it didn't even appear as the shrimp had even been attempted to devein and im not going to lie, i had a hard time enjoying it after. Other than that though, the food was great. Cant praise the debris fries enough, and my husband really enjoyed his hamburger po boy. They also had delicious looking dessert options I didn't try but I thought about it for longer than I'd like to admit. 😅Another thing I noticed is that the prices on the receipt were different from the price listed online or on the board, by a couple dollars, which isnt a huge deal..but it would be nice to know if your ticket is going to be more than you thought it was. Overall, it was a decent experience and i would go back, I would just...