The po' boy tells the whole story of Louisiana in one sandwich. Crusty bread, generous fillings, bold flavors. No pretension, just good food made with care. At Lagniappe, we sell more crawfish po' boys during crawfish season than just about anything else on the menu. There's a reason for that.

The secret is in the layers. You season the crawfish before they ever hit the buttermilk. You season the breading. You make a remoulade with enough horseradish and Creole mustard to wake up your taste buds. Then you fry those tails until they're golden and shatteringly crisp, pile them on bread that crackles when you bite through it, and dress the whole thing properly.

My grandmother Evangeline used to say that good bread makes or breaks a po' boy. She was right. You need authentic French bread: crispy crust that shatters, soft interior that soaks up the remoulade without falling apart. If you can't find real po' boy bread, a good baguette will do, but seek out the real thing if you can. That's what separates a great sandwich from a good one.