In this great nation of ours, one could eat a different sandwich every day of the year—so that's what we'll do. Here's A Sandwich a Day, our daily look at sandwiches around the country. Got a sandwich we should check out? Let us know. —The Mgmt.
It's hard to miss Jemil's Big Easy if the truck's rolling by. Jemil's stenciled-on face smiles out from the boxy, bright yellow truck like he's leading a parade down Bourbon Street. Three arrows point you in the direction of his food, underscoring that you really don't want to miss the blackened shrimp po'boys being dished out. The bread isn't quite authentic, thicker and chewier than you'd find within the Big Easy city limits, but it's the shrimp that will bring strains of sweet jazz to your ears.
The execution on them is stunning, making perfectly cooked prawns inside a cool sandwich seem like a stroll down the bayou. It's not, as any number of poorer po'boy vendors demonstrate daily around the country. The plump and tender meat are contrasted with the cool, crunchy lettuce and Jemil's own special sauce.
Each bite of shrimp provides a pop of freshness, like a breath of fresh air-conditioning after a humid southern afternoon. Pickles push back at the sweetness of the shrimp, while the overly chewy bread makes everything squirt out the bottom of the sandwich. A clean eating sandwich this is not, a masterpiece of shrimp cookery it is.