I Ate 15 Arby’s Sandwiches So Here Are The Worst And The Best Ones

Last month, I set out on what my doctor would probably describe as “a terrible decision”—eating every single sandwich on the Arby’s menu.

Armed with stretchy pants, a notebook, and a bottle of antacids, I tackled the meaty mountain over the course of two intense, greasy weeks. It was a journey full of surprises: some sandwiches were shockingly good, while others made me question my life choices.

Though my arteries may never recover, my taste buds were treated to an unforgettable rollercoaster of flavors. Here’s my brutally honest, no-holds-barred ranking of every Arby’s sandwich, from the absolute worst to the surprisingly best.

15. Fire-Roasted Philly

Whoever named this sandwich has clearly never been to Philadelphia. The meat resembled sad, gray confetti rather than proper Philly steak. My first bite released a flood of mysterious liquid that soaked through the wrapper and onto my favorite jeans.

The peppers and onions had all the fire-roasted flavor of wet newspaper. Meanwhile, the cheese sauce clung desperately to the bun like it was trying to escape the meat beneath it.

The bread? Somehow both soggy and stale simultaneously – a culinary paradox I didn’t think possible until now. Save yourself the disappointment and just eat the wrapper instead. It might taste better.

14. Crispy Fish Sandwich

Ordering fish at a place famous for roast beef is like asking for sushi at a gas station – technically possible but fraught with risk. The fish patty looked like it had been forgotten in the fryer while the cook took a lunch break.

Cracking through the armor-like exterior required jaw strength I haven’t needed since my retainer days. Inside lurked a thin sliver of actual fish, swimming in a sea of tartar sauce that could only be described as ‘aggressively tangy.’

The lettuce had clearly given up on life hours before our encounter. If the ocean could sue for misrepresentation, this sandwich would be facing serious legal troubles.

13. Chicken Club Wrap

The Chicken Club Wrap feels like Arby’s halfhearted attempt to appear health-conscious. Unwrapping it revealed a tortilla so tightly wound it resembled a mummified burrito rather than a fresh wrap.

Biting in, I discovered the chicken had apparently gone into witness protection – I could barely find it among the excessive lettuce and tomato chunks. The bacon pieces were so microscopic they could have been bacon-flavored confetti.

The whole thing had the structural integrity of a wet paper towel. By the third bite, my lap had collected more ingredients than my mouth. Not terrible taste-wise, but eating it required both hands and possibly a hazmat suit.

12. Roast Beef Gyro

Arby’s attempt at Mediterranean cuisine is like watching your uncle try breakdancing at a wedding – well-intentioned but ultimately uncomfortable for everyone involved. The pita bread had the texture of a kitchen sponge left in the sun.

The roast beef, while plentiful, seemed confused about its role in this cultural fusion experiment. The tzatziki sauce tasted suspiciously like ranch dressing with some herbs thrown in as an afterthought.

Red onions and tomatoes made brave appearances but couldn’t save this identity crisis of a sandwich. Greek grandmothers everywhere are collectively shaking their heads. This isn’t a gyro – it’s a ‘why, though?’

11. Turkey Ranch & Bacon Sandwich

The Turkey Ranch & Bacon promises so much yet delivers so little – like a movie trailer that shows all the good parts. The turkey slices were paper-thin, as if someone at Arby’s is trying to make turkey last until next Thanksgiving.

Ranch dressing ambushed my taste buds with surprising aggression. Meanwhile, the bacon played hide-and-seek throughout the sandwich – I’d get a delicious bite with bacon, then go three more without seeing any evidence of its existence.

The bread deserves credit for being fresh, though it seemed to be absorbing moisture from the air around it. Not offensive enough to rank lower, but certainly not something I’d cross town for. The sandwich equivalent of saying ‘meh’ with your mouth full.

10. Buffalo Chicken Slider

Small but mighty – in the wrong ways. The Buffalo Chicken Slider packs a surprising punch of heat that ambushed me mid-bite. My eyes watered while my taste buds tried to decide whether they were enjoying themselves or experiencing a tiny food crime.

The chicken itself was mysteriously uniform – a perfectly round patty that raised questions about chicken anatomy I wasn’t prepared to answer. The sauce distribution followed no logical pattern, with one side drowning and the other bone dry.

The mini bun had a sweetness that battled awkwardly with the buffalo spice. Not terrible, but eating it felt like watching a tiny food fight happen in real-time. Points for portion control, I guess?

9. Jalapeño Bacon Ranch Wrap

This wrap brings the heat, but in the most inconsistent way possible. Some bites sent me scrambling for water while others made me wonder if I’d imagined the jalapeños entirely. The tortilla had been grilled just enough to give it structural integrity – a rare win in wrap engineering.

The bacon showed up in full force, crispy and plentiful, unlike its shy appearance in other Arby’s offerings. Ranch dressing served as both flavor and glue, holding everything together while coating my mouth with creamy tanginess.

Lettuce and tomato made token appearances, presumably to justify calling this a balanced meal. Not bad overall, but the jalapeño roulette made eating it feel like a spicy game of chance.

8. Classic Beef ‘n Cheddar

The nostalgic middle child of the Arby’s menu! This sandwich hasn’t changed since I ate it as a kid, which is both comforting and slightly concerning. The signature cheese sauce flows like molten lava – delicious, but requiring napkin origami skills to contain.

The onion roll adds a sweetness that somehow works with the salty roast beef. That special sauce hiding under the meat? I’m convinced it’s just Catalina dressing, but I respect the mystery they’ve maintained all these years.

The roast beef itself is sliced so thin you could read a newspaper through it, yet piled high enough to make your jaw unhinge like a snake. Not revolutionary, but reliable – like that friend who always shows up to help you move.

7. Smokehouse Brisket

Arby’s ventures into BBQ territory with this hefty creation, and the results are surprisingly not terrible! The brisket actually tastes smoked, though I suspect it’s more of a liquid smoke situation than actual pit mastery.

The crispy onions add a welcome textural contrast that makes each bite interesting. Meanwhile, the BBQ sauce walks the tightrope between sweet and tangy without falling into syrupy territory.

The star player here is the smoked Gouda cheese, which brings a sophisticated note to what could otherwise be a basic sandwich. It’s like Arby’s put on a fancy hat for a special occasion. Not authentic enough for BBQ purists, but a solid effort from a fast-food joint better known for roast beef.

6. Chicken Bacon Swiss

A sandwich that defies the laws of fast-food physics! The chicken breast was actually juicy – a miracle on par with finding a working ice cream machine at McDonald’s. Each bite delivered a satisfying crunch from the breading that somehow maintained its texture despite being wrapped.

The bacon brought its A-game, crispy and generously portioned across the entire sandwich. Swiss cheese melted perfectly, creating those satisfying cheese pulls that make for great Instagram content (if you’re into food photography).

Honey mustard sauce tied everything together with a sweet-tangy kick that elevated the whole experience. This sandwich feels like Arby’s really tried, like when your normally lazy coworker suddenly puts effort into the group project.

5. Triple Decker Club

This sandwich requires unhinging your jaw like a python swallowing a gazelle. The Triple Decker Club doesn’t just have layers – it has geological strata of meat and toppings that archaeologists could study.

Turkey, ham, and roast beef coexist peacefully with bacon acting as the delicious peacekeeper. The vegetables actually tasted fresh, a shocking development that made me check the expiration date on my reality. Mayo and spicy brown mustard create a creamy-tangy partnership that brings everything together.

The toasted bread held firm against the ingredient onslaught – a structural engineering feat worthy of recognition. This sandwich doesn’t revolutionize club sandwich theory, but it executes the classics with surprising competence. Prepare for food coma afterward!

4. Half Pound Beef ‘n Cheddar

Bigger isn’t always better, but in this case, the math checks out! The Half Pound Beef ‘n Cheddar takes everything good about its smaller sibling and doubles down like a confident blackjack player.

The sheer volume of paper-thin roast beef creates a meaty mountain that requires strategic eating techniques. That first bite unleashes a cascade of warm cheddar sauce that somehow manages to coat every corner of your mouth. The red ranch sauce hiding beneath adds a tangy counterpoint that cuts through the richness.

The onion roll deserves combat pay for containing this beast without disintegrating. This sandwich isn’t trying to be sophisticated – it knows exactly what it is: a glorious, messy indulgence that requires both napkins and possibly a shower afterward.

3. Loaded Italian

Mama mia! Arby’s Italian sandwich brings unexpected authenticity to the fast-food deli scene. The combination of pepperoni, salami, and ham creates a meat trifecta that would make an actual Italian nod in reluctant approval.

The vegetables maintain their crunch, with banana peppers delivering zingy surprises throughout. The red wine vinaigrette dressing adds acidity that cuts through the richness of the meats and cheese – a thoughtful touch I wouldn’t expect from a place with a giant cowboy hat sign.

The star player is the garlic aioli, which elevates everything it touches like a condiment fairy godmother. The toasted Italian roll provides the perfect textural contrast – crusty outside, soft inside. This sandwich makes me question everything I thought I knew about Arby’s potential.

2. Reuben

Color me shocked – Arby’s makes a Reuben that wouldn’t get you thrown out of a New York deli! The marble rye bread comes toasted to perfection with those distinctive swirls that signal sandwich sophistication.

Corned beef is sliced thin but piled generously, creating a pink meat mountain that dominates the sandwich landscape. The sauerkraut brings proper tanginess without overwhelming the other flavors – a delicate balance that many restaurant Reubens fail to achieve.

Swiss cheese melts into all the nooks and crannies, while Thousand Island dressing adds creamy sweetness that ties everything together. Each bite delivers that perfect harmony of flavors that defines a proper Reuben. Who knew fast-food could capture deli magic? Not me, until this sandwich proved me deliciously wrong.

1. Market Fresh Roast Turkey & Swiss

The unassuming champion that nobody saw coming! This sandwich doesn’t rely on gimmicks or excessive sauce – it simply executes everything perfectly. The honey wheat bread tastes freshly baked, with a hearty texture that supports the fillings without dominating them.

Turkey slices are thick and juicy, tasting like actual Thanksgiving leftovers rather than processed mystery meat. The Swiss cheese adds nutty creaminess while lettuce, tomato, and red onion provide garden-fresh crunch and color.

The honey mustard mayo delivers subtle sweetness that enhances rather than masks the other ingredients. Every component plays its role perfectly, creating sandwich harmony that’s greater than the sum of its parts. This sandwich doesn’t shout for attention – it earns it through pure quality. Arby’s finest moment, hands down!