This Quirky Michigan Deli Serves Up The Best Reuben Sandwiches You’ll Ever Try
I spent some years living in Ann Arbor, and I can tell you that the rye bread at Zingerman’s has a scent so distinct it practically pulls you up Detroit Street by the nose. Standing in line, you’re wrapped in a lively soundtrack of knives thwacking against butcher blocks and the high-energy chatter of a staff that treats sandwich-making like a contact sport.
The air inside is thick and savory, smelling of salt-cured corned beef and the sharp, vinegary punch of house-made sauerkraut. It’s a beautifully cramped, chaotic space.
Michigan foodies can find the state’s most iconic deli experience and legendary Reuben sandwiches by visiting this historic Ann Arbor landmark.
I’ve learned the hard way that a “small” sandwich here is still a serious commitment, so come hungry and ready for a mess. If you want to avoid the peak lunch madness, I’d suggest grabbing a spot at an outdoor table just before the noon rush hits.
Time Your Visit Like A Local
Early in the day, the deli’s block wakes slowly, and the line is friendly instead of epic. That’s when the Reuben’s details truly shine: you can see steam curling from hand-sliced corned beef, feel rye still crackling from the oven, and watch Swiss cheese melt into folds of meat instead of slipping off the side.
You hear the rhythmic tap of knives on cutting boards and the cheerful, melodic clatter of ticket numbers being called out to a hungry crowd. It feels organized, alive, and just calm enough to enjoy the small craft moments.
Late afternoon can work beautifully too, provided you’re patient and flexible about where you park your plate. If the queue is long, use the time wisely; the market shelves offer a perfect diversion, with artisanal olive oils and imported tinned fish inviting tiny, delicious detours.
To keep things moving like a pro, order ahead on the kiosk and confirm your name at the pickup window. This is especially vital on Saturdays when the nearby farmers’ market brings in waves of visitors.
Choose Your Rye, Choose Your Fate
The Zingerman’s Bakehouse rye matters more than you might think. It isn’t just a vessel; it’s the foundation. The caraway seeds add little sparks of citrus and anise that lift the heavy fattiness of the corned beef.
When you order, ask for it to be not overly toasted; you want the crumb to stay tender so it absorbs the juices, while the crust keeps its delicate, signature crackle under the weight of the sauerkraut. That balance is where the sandwich starts to feel intentional.
While rye options may rotate, the classic Jewish Rye is the true Reuben anchor. It holds heat with impressive stamina, which helps the cheese melt evenly and prevents the Russian dressing from wandering onto your shirt.
If you’re a fan of a bolder aroma, don’t be shy about requesting extra seeded slices. The folks behind the counter are true bread nerds who will happily talk crumb structure and suggest pairings with their famous garlic potato salad, so lean in and enjoy the education.
Corned Beef, Piled With Intention
The corned beef is sliced to order, and you can taste that immediacy in every bite. It is tender without falling apart into a salt-shredded mess, seasoned with a measured hand so hints of black pepper and coriander peek through the savory beef.
I usually recommend asking for a medium thickness on the slices; it creates the right balance of chew and melt, while giving the sandwich the structure it needs to hold together.
Some regulars prefer a slightly fattier cut, which amplifies that luxurious, buttery feel under the tangy kraut. If you describe your ideal bite to the staff, they’ll guide you to the right cut.
If you swap the beef for pastrami, be prepared for the smoke to shift the sandwich’s whole center of gravity. Either way, the goal is for the meat to meet the heat long enough to marry with the cheese before the dressing touches the bread.
Sauerkraut With A Purpose
The kraut must be warm and well-drained, otherwise, the whole majestic structure will sog out before you’re halfway through. Here, the sauerkraut tastes bright and gently sour, a clean, crisp counterpoint to the rich, salty beef.
When the balance lands, you’ll notice the natural cabbage sweetness bloom immediately after that first salty rush. It keeps the sandwich from feeling heavy.
If you’re visiting during a massive rush, it never hurts to double-check that the kraut is hot on the deck. It almost always is, but that extra heat is the catalyst for your perfect melt moment.
If you prefer a sharper profile, request a little more kraut and a touch less dressing. It sharpens the focus without overwhelming the rye’s natural spice, so each bite finishes crisp and clean.
Swiss That Actually Melts
Swiss cheese does the quiet, heavy lifting in a great Reuben. Its job is to soften the salty edges of the meat and glue the layers together into a cohesive whole.
Here, the temperature is managed with expert precision so the slices go glossy and translucent without oiling out. That keeps the bite clean and unified.
If you prefer a toastier, more fused profile, ask for a touch more time on the line. You don’t need a lot, just enough warmth to fuse the cheese to the beef without turning it rubbery.
When paired with warm kraut, you get a sealed interior that holds its shape until the final bite. That’s when the Russian dressing can act as an accent instead of sliding away.
Russian Dressing, Measured Not Muddled
Too much dressing and the sandwich turns shouty, drowning out the high-quality beef. Too little and you miss that sweet, peppery heat that nudges the kraut into the spotlight.
The house version is creamy and precise, designed to land as a smooth finish rather than a flood of mayo-heavy distraction. It’s there to connect flavors, not dominate them.
I suggest requesting a little extra dressing on the side if you like to calibrate the moisture in the last third of your sandwich. It helps you account for the specific moisture of your kraut and ensures the rye doesn’t get overwhelmed.
The deli team is known for extra-mile service and will accommodate these tweaks easily. They know balance is part of the culture, and they treat it like a shared project.
Size Strategy: Regular, Not Regret
Portions lean generous, so a Regular Reuben is often more than enough for a standard human. The build carries real weight, and the bread holds its posture even as savory juices gather at the bottom of the plate.
Splitting one with a friend is a veteran move; it leaves room for a side, which matters because the garlic potato salad is legendary in its own right.
If you’re flying solo and feel overwhelmed, save the second half for later. This rye holds up better than expected, especially if you wrap it tight in deli paper.
When you get home, skip the microwave and revive it in a warm pan, it does wonders for the bread’s texture. The Large is fun for hungry days, but the Regular captures the intended proportions best.
Line Logistics Without Losing Your Cool
The kiosk ordering system is a modern addition that moves fast once you know your way around it. Staff often circulate through the crowd to answer questions or point out the day’s specials, like a New York style knish.
Use the wait to browse the cheese counter or the wall of freshly baked loaves, then circle back when your name pops up on the screen. It makes the time feel productive instead of stuck.
On weekends, the crowd swells hard around noon, so arriving even 30 minutes earlier makes a world of difference. Carryout is a practical option when patio seating gets tight.
Ask for utensils and extra napkins up front so you don’t have to jump back into a second queue. Staying calm is part of the experience, and the sandwich tastes better when your patience arrives intact.
Sides That Earn Their Keep
Not every side dish needs to compete for your attention. The garlic potato salad is intentionally subtle, salted with restraint and respectful of the Reuben’s richness.
The Old-School Pickles arrive crisp and bright, giving you the perfect palate reset between hearty bites. Coleslaw leans lightly sweet, building flavor as you chew instead of shouting.
When choices feel overwhelming, one pickle plus one side salad strikes a clean balance. If you want something warm and sturdy, keep an eye out for the meat knish.
Skip the potato chips; the rye crust already brings plenty of crunch. The sides are meant to join the conversation, not interrupt it.
Take It To The Patio Or Take It To Go
The outdoor seating area is a prime people-watching spot, but it fills up fast. The vibe swings from bustling student energy to a neighborly hum depending on the hour.
The wind can be a factor, so tuck the deli paper firmly under your plate to prevent runaway napkins. When the patio is full, taking it to go is often the calmest way to enjoy that first focused bite.
If you plan to walk over to the nearby Kerrytown Market, ask for an extra layer of deli paper. It helps keep warmth in and keeps the sauerkraut exactly where it belongs.
I like to pause for a minute before unwrapping, letting the cheese and meat settle into their final form. The first bite lands truer that way, and the aroma of toasted rye seems to bloom in the open air.