Apocrypha says it was named for the mess that remains after a hurricane, but Creole debris (say “DAY-bree”) is too good to have so ignominious an inspiration. The name needs no such clever explanation: Debris is the shreds left on a cutting board after a hunk of meat is carved. Beef is its most common source, and as it is typical for New Orleans chefs to cook a roast long and slow to such extreme tenderness that it wants to fall apart as soon as a sharp knife approaches, there usually is plenty of debris to gather. It is thrown into a po’ boy sandwich with or even without the beef; it can be used to flavor grits; it is cosseted alone in a biscuit; and at the venerable Mother’s cafeteria on Poydras Street, it can be ordered in a bowl for spreading onto whatever else you happen to be eating at breakfast, lunch, or supper.
A bowl of debris at Mother’s cafeteria in New Orleans.
Like Kansas City’s brownies (burnt ends), debris is so in demand that many restaurants circumvent the carving process and make it by pulling apart an extremely tender, gravy-sopped roast. There is nothing really awful about that practice, but debris connoisseurs like the real thing because it offers more crunch from the roast’s edges and more streaks of melty fat.