16 Louisiana Po’boy Stops Proving Sandwiches Can Steal The Spotlight
Louisiana’s po’boy shops move to their own rhythm: bread that cracks just enough, a soft interior that gives beneath the first bite, and fillings stacked until gravity starts to test its limits.
Each sandwich carries more than flavor; it holds a sense of place, a memory of street corners, festivals, and family kitchens. From New Orleans to Metairie, Covington, Lafayette, and Baton Rouge, the tradition stays strong, shifting only in accent, never in heart.
You’ll taste roast beef slow-cooked to perfection, shrimp fried crisp and light, oysters spilling from the loaf, all dressed just the way you like. These sixteen stops tell Louisiana’s story in bread and crumbs, one sandwich at a time.
1. Parkway Bakery & Tavern (New Orleans)
The crackle of a fryer and the scent of fresh Leidenheimer bread greet you at Parkway, its Mid-City dining room packed with locals before noon.
This 1911 bakery turned po’boy mecca served sandwiches to striking streetcar workers in 1929 when it supplied free “poor boy” subs to union members.
Tip: order the roast beef “dressed” with mayo, lettuce, tomato and pickles. Arrive early, tables fill fast, and the wait grows long past lunch rush.
2. Domilise’s Po-Boy & Bar (New Orleans)
Wood-paneled interior, handwritten menu chalkboard, and that unmistakable sizzle from the fryer set the tone at Domilise’s.
Family-run since the 1930s in Uptown, Domilise’s built a reputation on fried shrimp and oyster po’boys piled in the classic style.
Tip: sit at the bar if you can, it gives you the best view of the kitchen in motion and adds flavor to the wait.
3. Parasol’s Bar & Restaurant (New Orleans)
You’ll notice the tiny neon sign before you taste the sandwich, but the soft-shell crab po’boy here punches above its modest storefront.
The sensory oddity of brittle crab shell crust meeting soft loaf crackles in your first bite. The vibe is casual bar meets counter service; locals lean in for fried catfish too.
I found the crust-to-loaf ratio here so satisfying I almost licked my fingers, something I rarely admit in public.
4. Johnny’s Po-Boys (New Orleans)
A narrow storefront on St. Louis Street hides one of the French Quarter’s busiest kitchens. At Johnny’s, mornings begin with the smell of frying bacon and roast beef simmering in gravy, a breakfast scent that could make anyone rethink their schedule.
Opened in 1950, it remains family-run, a fixture for locals who want straightforward food done perfectly. Their po’boys arrive heavy and hot, wrapped in white paper that immediately stains with flavor.
Tip: skip the tourist timing. Go before 11 a.m. when you can still grab a counter seat and watch the line build behind you.
5. Guy’s Po-Boys (New Orleans)
The fryer’s hiss mixes with laughter at this small Uptown spot, the kind of place where regulars shout greetings before they order. The vibe is pure neighborhood, no pretense, just steady rhythm and good bread.
Shrimp, oyster, or roast beef all share the same magic: a loaf that cracks when you squeeze it, fillings spilling out like an invitation. Owner Marvin “Guy” Meaux built that trust over decades, and it shows.
I left covered in crumbs and smiling. It’s the kind of mess you wear proudly because it means you ate well.
6. Mahony’s Po-Boys & Seafood (New Orleans)
Chef Ben Wicks treats his po’boys like plated dinners disguised as handhelds, each built with care and a wink toward indulgence. His kitchen balances seafood technique with laid-back ease.
Expect flash-fried Gulf shrimp, hand-cut fries, and bread baked daily to absorb every drop of remoulade. The portions satisfy without tipping into excess.
Logistics tip: Mahony’s has two locations, Magazine Street and the French Quarter, both equally friendly. Grab a stool near the window for the best mix of people-watching and sandwich bliss.
7. R & O Restaurant (Metairie)
The menu reads like a love letter to Louisiana comfort food, fried oysters, roast beef, gumbo, and that famous po’boy that drips gravy down your wrist. The bread crackles just enough to stay sturdy.
Opened in the 1980s by Roland and Ora Mollere, R & O has anchored Metairie dining for decades, serving generations of locals who grew up eating here.
Go half seafood, half meat on your order and share. It’s the best way to taste how this unassuming spot keeps its loyal crowd.
8. Short Stop Poboys (Metairie)
First thing you’ll notice is the clatter, orders shouted, trays sliding, the sharp scent of roast beef gravy and hot bread. Short Stop runs like a small orchestra of chaos.
The vibe’s pure local: linoleum floors, fluorescent lights, and lines that stretch out the door at lunch. People don’t come for ambience; they come because it’s fast, generous, and good.
I’ve never seen a place move this many sandwiches with so much personality. It’s proof that heart and habit can taste better than polish ever will.
9. Bear’s Po-Boys (Covington)
Lunch here feels like stepping into someone’s family kitchen, line cooks joking, trays clattering, and the faint hum of classic rock in the background. The energy is easy but confident, shaped by years of practice.
Fried roast beef is the headline: crisp outside, juicy center, dripping gravy into fresh French bread that stays miraculously intact. Turkey, shrimp, and ham versions hold their own.
I left with sauce on my sleeve and zero regrets. Bear’s doesn’t try to impress, it just gets everything absolutely, satisfyingly right.
10. Olde Tyme Grocery (Lafayette)
The smell of frying shrimp hits before the neon sign does. Inside, the kitchen hums like a workshop of organized chaos, oil sizzling as baguettes warm for another batch.
Opened in 1982 by Glenn Murphy, Olde Tyme keeps its charm by staying simple: fresh Gulf seafood, light breading, and bread from Poupart’s Bakery down the road. History lingers in the framed photos and regulars who never stopped coming.
Order shrimp or catfish and eat it outside on the curb. It’s Lafayette’s version of meditation.
11. Chris’ Po-Boys (Lafayette)
The first crunch is unexpected, the bread practically sings before the fillings take over. The place looks like a time capsule: booths, counter, no frills, and a comforting hum of conversation.
Founded in 1976, Chris’ has earned its stripes as one of Lafayette’s longest-running po’boy spots. Roast beef, catfish, or ham, they all taste like the city’s heartbeat.
Visitors fall into the same routine: order fast, grab a table, and eat slowly. It’s not fancy, but that’s the secret, unfussy food cooked with quiet pride.
12. Darrell’s (Lake Charles)
The first thing you notice is the smell: gravy, bread, and a hint of butter mingling in a way that feels like a promise. Darrell’s is pure South Louisiana energy: neon beer signs, laughing regulars, and a line that somehow moves fast.
The food centers on their signature Surf & Turf Po’boy, a glorious mess of roast beef, turkey, and shrimp tangled together under melted cheese. Every bite is an event.
I tried wiping my hands halfway through and gave up. There’s no dignified way to eat it, and that’s the fun.
13. Poor Boy Lloyd’s (Baton Rouge)
You can trace this downtown spot back to 1967, when it started feeding government workers and LSU students on their lunch breaks. Its counter gleams like it’s seen every local politician at least once.
The po’boys stick to tradition: shrimp, roast beef, or hot sausage served on crisp bread baked daily by Leidenheimer in New Orleans. The atmosphere stays casual and friendly, with blues playing softly under chatter.
Go before noon to beat the office crowd. A seat at the bar gets you quicker service and better conversation.
14. Mother’s Restaurant (New Orleans)
Crowds gather early for the “Ferdi Special,” a po’boy stacked with baked ham, roast beef, and debris gravy that drips down your wrists like a rite of passage.
Mother’s opened in 1938 and still feels like a workingman’s café, white tile walls, quick counter staff, trays clattering. The line wraps out the door daily but moves with efficiency born of experience.
What gets me is the flavor memory: peppery gravy, soft bread, smoky ham. You’ll walk out carrying the smell like a souvenir, and somehow you won’t mind.
15. Bon Creole Seafood (New Iberia)
The building looks more like a warehouse than a restaurant, and that’s part of the charm. Locals know the unmarked door leads to something special.
Inside, the air hums with fryer heat. Crawfish, shrimp, and oyster po’boys dominate, seasoned just enough to let the seafood stay the star. Every plate tastes like the Gulf pulled up close.
Visitor habit: come hungry, bring cash, and don’t skip the gumbo starter. It’s proof that humble food still carries Louisiana’s loudest voice.