Frank Davis New - Full Recipe

This traditional neighborhood sandwich can be done one of two ways: (1) You can either fix the banana au natural right out of the peel, or (2) You can slice and pan-fry the banana in butter first. Either way it’s great and reminiscent of your childhood.
Ingredients:
1 ripe banana, peeled and sliced lengthwise ¼ cup creamy peanut butter 2 slices Sunbeam, Merita, or Bunny bread 1 Tbsp. oleo, melted
Instructions:
In a heavy skillet, heat the oleo until it sizzles. Then, place the banana slices into the pan and quickly fry them on both sides, flipping them gently with an egg turner so that they don’t break apart in the middle (if you’re good at it, you should be able to get three slices out of one medium banana). While the bananas are toasting, lay out the bread on the countertop and evenly and thinly spread the peanut butter on both slices (the peanut butter needs to be soft to do this otherwise you’ll rip the bread every time!). Then when the bananas are ready, take the egg turner, lift all three strips from the pan one at a time, place them on top of the slice of bread on the left, and fold over the slice of bread on the right so that it covers the bananas and forms the sandwich. All that’s left is to press down on the sandwich with your hands, thereby wedging the bananas into the peanut butter and sealing the edges of the bread. And presto! An ol’ fashioned banana and peanut butter sandwich like we made as kids! Of course, I don’t have to tell you that this calls for cold milk, right?
Chef's Notes:
If you ever end up with a couple of bananas that are super-overripe (you know the black mushy ones!), peel them, place them on a dinner plate, smush them all up with a fork, and make yourself a sandwich by spreading the ripe banana on the slice of bread on the left, the peanut butter on the slice of bread on the right, and smashing the two slices together. This we always called a "Peanut Butter & Banana Quickie."

Lots of days I remember when twelve o’clock rolled around we had no luncheon meat for sandwiches (and couldn’t afford any either). But nobody was gonna go hungry! Momma called us inside, even let us invite our friends, and whipped up one of the tastiest Old New Orleans sandwiches I ever ate.
Ingredients:
4 slices of Holsum, Merita, or Tip-Top bread 1 large Creole tomato from the backyard garden ½ cup Blue Plate Mayonnaise Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions:
With the bread laid out on the countertop, slather the mayonnaise liberally on each slice. Then with a really sharp knife, cut the tomato into rounds about ¼ inch thick. When the slicing is done, place several rounds on two slices of bread (it’s okay to overlap the rounds), sprinkle them liberally with salt and black pepper, and top with the other two slices of bread, thereby creating two sandwiches (they’re so good you gotta have two!).
Chef's Notes:
We usta make a variation of this sandwich using green tomatoes that Momma would dip in egg, batter with bread crumbs, and pan fry! But that’s another recipe for another time!

Monday has always been red beans and rice day in N’Awlins. And usually there is just a little bit of the red beans left over in the refrigerator come Tuesday morning. Well, when I was growing up. . .that was the main ingredient of the sandwich you brought with you to school every Tuesday for lunch. Remember how it was made?
Ingredients:
1 small bowl of cold red beans 1 French bread heel (that’s the end of the loaf) 1 Tbsp. oleo 1 piece of plastic wrap
Instructions:
First take the heel of the French bread (some folks call it the toe) and dig out the soft bread inside the outer crust. Then, with a butter knife, scoop up a liberal amount of oleo and "butter" the inside of the heel. It is important that you distribute it evenly—this is the flavor concentrate. When the "cone" is properly prepared, take the red beans—cold andstraight from the refrigerator—and begin to pack them into the French bread cone with a tablespoon, forcing them in tightly as you stuff. Then when the bread is filled to capacity, smooth off the top and wrap the cone tightly and securely with plastic wrap. On Tuesdays in New Orleans, lunchtime was like having "ice cream."
Chef's Notes:
I remember a few guys who ate red bean sandwiches at school always had them hot. They musta known the cafeteria ladies or something. Mine was always traditional—cold and creamy! And every now and then Momma hid a piece of pickled meat down in the middle for me!