Po’ boy spread on the bed: Ugh

We have gone to New Orleans and spent a week trying the wonder food. Nothing is better than the po’ boys. We have eaten them in the restaurants or brought them back to our hotel for dinner. As messy as the sandwiches are, how could you print in “Po’ Boy Bliss in New Orleans” [Oct. 31] that writer Brady MacDonald “wiped my hands on the bedspread and plowed onward”? What did his wife and the 3-year-old do for napkins? I would not want to be the next person to stay in that room.

Barbara Menendez

Sherman Oaks