The power of a po’ boy

Regarding Alice Short’s article on New Orleans, “Join the Party,” Feb. 26:

Several years ago, during a trip to New Orleans with friends, we saved one of Short’s fantastic, highlighted restaurants for last.

On the way from our French Quarter hotel to Louis Armstrong Airport, we stopped at Mother’s.

The noontime flight to L.A. would not have a meal service, but our buddy, Ernie, planned ahead with that stop. After a very worthwhile wait in line, we were soon ordering a couple of the larger Mother’s Debris po’ boys.

To begin with, whoever got that rental car the next time had the best smelling car in the whole fleet.

Once we boarded the plane and the door was closed, that same incredible aroma began to permeate our section of the cabin.

We soon had a lot of the other passengers wanting to buy our appetite-whetting Mother’s po’ boys. With what we were being offered, we could have paid for a good chunk of the cost of our tickets.

Although on the verge of alienating fellow passengers and even our flight attendants, we devoured each of those edible New Orleans souvenirs, leaving only the wrappers to smell for the remainder of the trip.

I am hungry just thinking about it!

JOHN WADE

Newbury Park