Sandwiches can be simple, humble creations — say, peanut butter and jelly smeared on some grocery store white bread — but they're also capable of culinary greatness. Here, in no particular order (other than alphabetical), are 12 Dallas sandwiches to try before you die.
Hunter Pond dropped out of law school to start this mini-chain of sandwich shops, and thank goodness he did. The hot cheese and short rib sandwich came off the menu for a while, but it's back as a seasonal addition — and it's even better than it sounds: tender hunks of beef adorned with melty white cheddar, arugula, caramelized onions and just enough horseradish cream sauce to cut the richness a bit.
Everyone has their favorite sandwich at Jimmy's, but the piece de resistance is arguably the prosciutto panino: Thinly sliced prosciutto layered with thick slices of freshly pulled mozzarella, flavorful juicy tomatoes, and fresh shreds of basil on a giant crusty roll. (Bonus: This thing is easily big enough for three or four meals, depending on your appetite — and it's a mere $6.99.)
If you typically order the stellar brisket by the pound at Pecan Lodge, we can hardly blame you — but just once, get the Pitmaster sandwich instead. That same luscious brisket is stacked on top of a fluffy bun along with smoky pulled pork and housemade sausage, then topped with slaw, fresh sliced jalapenos and the tangy house barbecue sauce. You'll undoubtedly be the envy of your tablemates.
The best lobster roll in Dallas is a hotly debated issue, but TJ's is top-notch: A ridiculously generous portion of huge lobster chunks on an eggy custom-baked challah bun from Addison's La Spiga bakery, drizzled with lemon thyme-infused butter. (Bonus: If you don't feel like splurging on the $25 roll, you can get a smaller version for $16 that's still plenty big to satisfy.)
What, you've never had a pambazo? Time to reevaluate all your life choices up to this point. This oblong-shaped torta is stuffed with chorizo, potatoes, avocado, shredded lettuce and tangy crema, and the bun is completely slathered in guajillo chile sauce. There are rolls of paper towels at each table for a reason; maybe don't try to eat this in your car.
If you have yet to experience the joys of a Truck Yard cheese steak, stop reading this and go get one right now. A generous pile of thinly shaved ribeye is cooked to order right in front of your eyes with your choice of veg (caramelized onions, jalapenos, bell peppers, mushrooms) and cheese — and no self-respecting person will skip out on the Cheez Whiz.
Chick-fil-A might lay claim to inventing the chicken sandwich, but Uncle Uber's has perfected it. The grilled version manages to be exponentially more delicious than grilled chicken anything has a right to be, especially when avocado is added; we'll chalk it up at least in part to the buttery, toasty bun (and a little mysterious kitchen magic). Chef Brian Luscher is a vocal devotee of the crispy fried version; a side of fries with habanero ranch is a must.
C Señor takes the standard Cuban — ham, roasted pork, melted cheese, pickles, and mustard, stuffed between two pieces of bread, then grilled and flattened — and makes it super-sized (and super-good). The mojo pork is roasted, shredded, and straight dripping with flavorful, fatty, meaty goodness. This ’wich is massive, and it will hold you over for days — and don’t forget a side of crisp yucca fries with funky, spicy mango ketchup.
Like most everything at Jonathon's, the club sandwich is outrageous and decadent and unreasonable, all in the best of ways. It’s got three slices of grilled velvety sourdough, juicy roasted turkey, creamy avocado, and is filled with all kinds of other delights like bacon, a fried egg, and two kinds of cheese.
Nammi’s banh mi begins with the baguette, which manages to be flaky, crunchy, pillowy, delicate, sturdy, substantial, and airy, all at once. It is a hell of a product, and when it’s piled with succulent pork and a veritable truckload of fresh, fermented veggies, it results in an unmatched sandwich experience. Definitely top off yours with repeated douses of the truck-made cilantro cream sauce. Stay tuned for a stationary location coming soon to the Dallas Farmers Market.
The 48-hour cracked pepper brisket sandwich isn't at all photogenic, but it is the stuff dreams are made of: Succulent chunks of brisket stuffed into a cushy Village Baking Co. roll and topped with sweet caramelized onions, creamy Swiss cheese and tangy cherry pepper mayo. A food coma is imminent if you eat the whole thing, so maybe take half home.
The beauty of this baby is that it is so simple: bologna, made in-house, and pan-fried. American cheese, melted and gooey and ample. Mayo, strategically dabbed. And challah bread — oh glorious challah bread — toasted, buttery, crunchy, and divine. This creation, definitely greater than the sum of its parts, proves that when it comes to sandwich ingredients, quality is better than quantity.
There is a sensible, heart-healthy, guilt-free lunch choice — say, a green juice or a kale salad — and then there is the Texan: mountains of roast beef, sizable strips of just-out-of-the-grease bacon, and gobs of melted cheddar cheese, all on a hefty ciabatta roll that is basically floating in zesty chipotle mayo. The Texan — aptly named — apologizes not for its flagrant, albeit delicious, indecency.
Village’s relatively new boulangerie on Lower Greenville also serves up sandwiches, and their ham-and-cheese rendition is what the French call le fantastique. Generously slathered from end to end in butter, their baked-in-house baguette would on its own be a delicacy. But with ham and cheese joining the soiree, well, suddenly it becomes ethereal.
Hunter Pond dropped out of law school to start this mini-chain of sandwich shops, and thank goodness he did. The hot cheese and short rib sandwich came off the menu for a while, but it's back as a seasonal addition — and it's even better than it sounds: tender hunks of beef adorned with melty white cheddar, arugula, caramelized onions and just enough horseradish cream sauce to cut the richness a bit.
Everyone has their favorite sandwich at Jimmy's, but the piece de resistance is arguably the prosciutto panino: Thinly sliced prosciutto layered with thick slices of freshly pulled mozzarella, flavorful juicy tomatoes, and fresh shreds of basil on a giant crusty roll. (Bonus: This thing is easily big enough for three or four meals, depending on your appetite — and it's a mere $6.99.)
If you typically order the stellar brisket by the pound at Pecan Lodge, we can hardly blame you — but just once, get the Pitmaster sandwich instead. That same luscious brisket is stacked on top of a fluffy bun along with smoky pulled pork and housemade sausage, then topped with slaw, fresh sliced jalapenos and the tangy house barbecue sauce. You'll undoubtedly be the envy of your tablemates.
The best lobster roll in Dallas is a hotly debated issue, but TJ's is top-notch: A ridiculously generous portion of huge lobster chunks on an eggy custom-baked challah bun from Addison's La Spiga bakery, drizzled with lemon thyme-infused butter. (Bonus: If you don't feel like splurging on the $25 roll, you can get a smaller version for $16 that's still plenty big to satisfy.)
What, you've never had a pambazo? Time to reevaluate all your life choices up to this point. This oblong-shaped torta is stuffed with chorizo, potatoes, avocado, shredded lettuce and tangy crema, and the bun is completely slathered in guajillo chile sauce. There are rolls of paper towels at each table for a reason; maybe don't try to eat this in your car.
If you have yet to experience the joys of a Truck Yard cheese steak, stop reading this and go get one right now. A generous pile of thinly shaved ribeye is cooked to order right in front of your eyes with your choice of veg (caramelized onions, jalapenos, bell peppers, mushrooms) and cheese — and no self-respecting person will skip out on the Cheez Whiz.
Chick-fil-A might lay claim to inventing the chicken sandwich, but Uncle Uber's has perfected it. The grilled version manages to be exponentially more delicious than grilled chicken anything has a right to be, especially when avocado is added; we'll chalk it up at least in part to the buttery, toasty bun (and a little mysterious kitchen magic). Chef Brian Luscher is a vocal devotee of the crispy fried version; a side of fries with habanero ranch is a must.
C Señor takes the standard Cuban — ham, roasted pork, melted cheese, pickles, and mustard, stuffed between two pieces of bread, then grilled and flattened — and makes it super-sized (and super-good). The mojo pork is roasted, shredded, and straight dripping with flavorful, fatty, meaty goodness. This ’wich is massive, and it will hold you over for days — and don’t forget a side of crisp yucca fries with funky, spicy mango ketchup.
Like most everything at Jonathon's, the club sandwich is outrageous and decadent and unreasonable, all in the best of ways. It’s got three slices of grilled velvety sourdough, juicy roasted turkey, creamy avocado, and is filled with all kinds of other delights like bacon, a fried egg, and two kinds of cheese.
Nammi’s banh mi begins with the baguette, which manages to be flaky, crunchy, pillowy, delicate, sturdy, substantial, and airy, all at once. It is a hell of a product, and when it’s piled with succulent pork and a veritable truckload of fresh, fermented veggies, it results in an unmatched sandwich experience. Definitely top off yours with repeated douses of the truck-made cilantro cream sauce. Stay tuned for a stationary location coming soon to the Dallas Farmers Market.
The 48-hour cracked pepper brisket sandwich isn't at all photogenic, but it is the stuff dreams are made of: Succulent chunks of brisket stuffed into a cushy Village Baking Co. roll and topped with sweet caramelized onions, creamy Swiss cheese and tangy cherry pepper mayo. A food coma is imminent if you eat the whole thing, so maybe take half home.
The beauty of this baby is that it is so simple: bologna, made in-house, and pan-fried. American cheese, melted and gooey and ample. Mayo, strategically dabbed. And challah bread — oh glorious challah bread — toasted, buttery, crunchy, and divine. This creation, definitely greater than the sum of its parts, proves that when it comes to sandwich ingredients, quality is better than quantity.
There is a sensible, heart-healthy, guilt-free lunch choice — say, a green juice or a kale salad — and then there is the Texan: mountains of roast beef, sizable strips of just-out-of-the-grease bacon, and gobs of melted cheddar cheese, all on a hefty ciabatta roll that is basically floating in zesty chipotle mayo. The Texan — aptly named — apologizes not for its flagrant, albeit delicious, indecency.
Village’s relatively new boulangerie on Lower Greenville also serves up sandwiches, and their ham-and-cheese rendition is what the French call le fantastique. Generously slathered from end to end in butter, their baked-in-house baguette would on its own be a delicacy. But with ham and cheese joining the soiree, well, suddenly it becomes ethereal.
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