16 New York City Deli Sandwich Spots Worthy Of The Same Love As Bagels
New Yorkers guard their food rituals closely, and delis sit right beside bagels in that hierarchy of devotion. Step past the counter and the air greets you with smoke, spice, and the sharp crack of knives against wood.
The sandwiches come heavy: rye bending under pastrami, mustard biting through fat, turkey layered so high it feels like defiance. Every visit tells you something about the city: the stubbornness of tradition, the joy of excess, the way strangers share tables and stories as if pulled together by bread.
Sixteen delis stood out on my wanderings, each with its own flavor of argument, memory, or revelation. Bring a strong appetite, because these aren’t meals you leave unfinished.
1. Katz’s Delicatessen
There’s a pulse in the room; tourists snapping photos, regulars cutting straight to the counter, and cutters moving fast behind glass. It feels chaotic but oddly precise, like everyone already knows the steps.
The pastrami lands heavy, pepper crust flaring with each slice, rye bending just enough to hold it. Mustard spreads sharp, and every bite feels layered with history.
I remember thinking it would overwhelm me, but somehow it balanced perfectly. The richness stayed with me long after I’d stepped back into Houston Street.
2. 2nd Ave Deli
The brisket steals the show first, sliced tender, capped with just enough fat to shimmer under the lights. Pastrami and corned beef follow, all piled high on rye in true kosher style.
Opened in 1954 and reborn uptown after closing its East Village home, 2nd Ave Deli remains a living reminder of Jewish New York. The rules still hold: no dairy, no shortcuts, plenty of pickles.
Tip from a regular at the next table: always order the matzo ball soup before your sandwich. It sets the rhythm for the meal.
3. Sarge’s Delicatessen & Diner
Menus clatter against tabletops, neon buzzing overhead, and the smell of frying eggs mixing with brined meats. It feels like a diner at first, but the glass case stacked with corned beef quickly reminds you it’s also a deli.
Since 1964, Sarge’s has been a Midtown constant, famous for its “monster” sandwich and the deep bench of classics from kugel to knishes.
I once braved the monster sandwich myself. Halfway through, I realized I’d underestimated it, it’s less a meal, more an afternoon commitment.
4. Pastrami Queen
The glow of the counter feels different here, smaller, sharper, like the whole place is tuned only to the meat. Customers flow in and out with purpose, no wasted motion.
Their pastrami is stacked with intent, carved thick and juicy, kosher in both spirit and practice. Rye slices bend but never give way, while mustard keeps each bite bright.
I’ve eaten pastrami across the city, but this one stuck with me. There’s a clarity to it, like they knew exactly what mattered, and did only that.
5. Frankel’s Delicatessen & Appetizing
Hot pastrami steams from the slicer, while smoked fish waits on ice nearby. Lox, sable, and whitefish salad sit beside bagels, anchoring the appetizing side. The menu straddles both traditions effortlessly.
Opened in Greenpoint by brothers with a deli family history, Frankel’s blends Jewish appetizing culture with hearty sandwich work. It’s become a neighborhood mainstay, serving breakfast through lunch.
Tip: if you can, grab one pastrami on rye and one bagel with lox. It’s the only way to see what Frankel’s does best.
6. David’s Brisket House & Deli
The sound of sizzling fat fills the narrow Bed-Stuy room, plates sliding down the counter in a practiced rhythm. Old photos line the walls, reminding you this is no trend spot.
Since the 1960s, David’s has thrived under changing ownership, staying faithful to brisket, pastrami, and corned beef. The seasoning leans bold, the portions steady.
I tried the brisket sandwich here, and it felt like comfort distilled into bread. Not flashy, not dressed up, just beef, slow time, and a griddle that’s been whispering for decades.
7. Liebman’s Delicatessen
Step inside and it feels like you’ve traveled back a few decades, wood-paneled walls, vinyl booths, and a hush that comes from knowing everyone here already belongs.
The Bronx classic has been slicing pastrami and corned beef since 1953, a lone survivor among the borough’s old Jewish delis. Sandwiches come piled high, portions that could easily stretch into two meals.
I couldn’t help smiling when my plate hit the table. The sandwich leaned precariously, like it might topple, but every bite held together beautifully.
8. Ben’s Kosher Delicatessen Restaurant & Caterers
Pastrami comes out hot here, thickly cut and layered onto rye, but the menu runs wide: matzo ball soup, knishes, chopped liver, even full kosher dinners.
Ben’s opened in 1972 and remains a Midtown fixture, part of a small chain that also spans Long Island. The vibe feels steadier than flashier competitors, anchored by its consistency.
You should come at lunch. The specials include soup and sides with your sandwich, which makes the portions feel somehow even larger than they already are.
9. Court Street Grocers
The first bite is a surprise, unexpected layers of flavor snapping against each other in ways no traditional deli would dare. One sandwich might stack roast beef with smoky mayo, another turkey with pickled beets.
Founded in Carroll Gardens and now spread across the city, Court Street Grocers rewrote the script for what a New York hero could be. It’s playful but serious, inventive but grounded.
I once grabbed a “Turkey + Durkee” and laughed at the name, but by the last bite, I knew it was genius.
10. Defonte’s Of Brooklyn
The first thing you notice isn’t the sandwiches but the size of the loaves, hero bread stretching longer than your arm. Red Hook regulars shuffle in and out, already knowing what they’ll order.
Since 1922, Defonte’s has been stacking fried eggplant, mozzarella, ham, and salami into subs that eat like a full day’s ration. The recipes haven’t changed, and nobody seems to want them to.
I once tried finishing a whole hero solo. By the last bite, I felt both triumphant and entirely defeated, in the best way.
11. Faicco’s Italian Specialties
Sausage hangs from hooks, cured and shining, a reminder that this place started as a pork store long before it became a sandwich landmark.
Faicco’s roots stretch back to 1900, when the family business set up shop in Greenwich Village. Their heroes showcase Italian tradition, fresh mozzarella, prosciutto, soppressata, layered with care.
Go for the chicken cutlet hero. The bread stays crisp under the weight, and the cutlet itself is seasoned so well you’ll be tempted to order another to take home.
12. Alidoro
Focaccia slabs glisten with olive oil, stacked high at the counter, while semolina rolls wait for their turn. Each sandwich feels monumental, both in size and in flavor.
Founded in 1986 by an Italian transplant, Alidoro specializes in cold sandwiches built like works of art, no substitutions, no rushing. The fillings run from mortadella to roasted peppers, each build precise.
I walked out with “the Pinocchio,” and it felt almost sculptural in my hands. By the last bite, I understood why locals treat this as ritual, not lunch.
13. Pisillo Italian Panini
The bread alone stops you; thick, airy, golden from the oven. Once sliced, it carries more fillings than you thought possible: prosciutto, mozzarella, roasted peppers, and beyond.
Pisillo opened in FiDi and has since expanded to Times Square, but the spirit is the same: massive panini, true to Italian roots, stacked until they barely close.
I lugged one back to a park bench nearby. Halfway through, I realized I’d made a tactical error, these sandwiches are meant for sharing, or at least a long afternoon.
14. Sal, Kris & Charlie’s Deli
Cold-cut layers form a rainbow inside a roll, turkey, ham, salami, provolone, lettuce, tomato, peppers. Locals call it the “bomb” for a reason.
Astoria has sworn by this spot for decades, a neighborhood deli where size and generosity always trump trends. The line often curls out the door, filled with people who already know the drill.
Tip: order the bomb, split it in half, and save the rest. Unless, of course, you’re determined to conquer a small mountain in one sitting.
15. Sunny & Annie’s Gourmet Deli
A chalkboard lists sandwich names that read more like poems than menu items. The shelves around you remind you it’s still a bodega, chips, soda, candy stacked close.
For years, this East Village corner shop has been running 24/7, building inventive creations with names like “PHO Real” or “Vietnamese Cold Cut.” It feels like discovery every time.
I stopped in after midnight once, and the sandwich hit harder than anything else could at that hour. It felt like the city itself, chaotic, brilliant, alive.
16. S&P
The clink of coffee cups mixes with the scrape of knives on toast, giving this Flatiron lunch counter its soundtrack. Bright tile and simple stools make the space feel both new and old at once.
Formerly Eisenberg’s, S&P revives the spirit of the mid-century lunch counter, tuna melts, egg salad, pastrami on rye, all made with quiet precision. The menu balances nostalgia with an easy modern edge.
I sat down for a turkey club, and it felt exactly right. Nothing fancy, nothing fussy, just a sandwich that knew its purpose.