14 Iconic Pennsylvania Sandwiches That Deserve National Recognition
Pennsylvania’s sandwich game is seriously next-level stuff.
Growing up in the Keystone State, I discovered early on that our local sandwiches aren’t just food—they’re cultural institutions with passionate followings and heated debates about who makes them best.
From Pittsburgh to Philadelphia and everywhere in between, these handheld masterpieces tell the story of our state’s diverse cultural heritage, blue-collar roots, and culinary creativity.
Let me walk you through the Pennsylvania sandwiches that deserve to be household names across America!
1. The Legendary Philly Cheesesteak
Nothing says Philly quite like watching a grill master chop thinly sliced ribeye with lightning speed, the sizzle creating a mouthwatering symphony. I still remember my first authentic cheesesteak at Pat’s—standing in line, nervously practicing my order so I wouldn’t get sent to the back.
The perfect cheesesteak balances thinly sliced beef, melty cheese (Whiz for traditionalists, provolone for sophisticates), and slightly crusty yet soft roll that somehow contains the beautiful mess. Grilled onions are optional but recommended.
The rivalry between Pat’s and Geno’s might grab headlines, but locals know dozens of neighborhood spots serving equally magnificent versions. What makes this sandwich special isn’t just the ingredients—it’s the attitude served alongside it.
2. Roast Pork With Broccoli Rabe: Philly’s Other Masterpiece
Forget Rocky for a minute—this sandwich deserves its own statue. My uncle Tony introduced me to this glorious creation at DiNic’s in Reading Terminal Market, and I’ve never looked back.
Slow-roasted pork, sliced paper-thin, gets nestled into a crusty Italian roll that’s just soft enough inside. The magic happens when sharp provolone cheese melts slightly from the warm meat, and garlicky sautéed broccoli rabe adds a bitter punch that cuts through the richness.
The pork releases just enough juice to flavor the bread without making it soggy—a delicate balance that separates the masters from the amateurs. Some places add long hots (spicy peppers) for extra kick, but the classic version needs no embellishment.
3. Primanti Bros. Sandwich: Pittsburgh’s Crown Jewel
My first Primanti Bros. experience came after a Steelers game—cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed, which is precisely the right condition to appreciate this architectural marvel. The sandwich literally stopped me mid-conversation.
Born in Pittsburgh’s Strip District to feed hungry truckers, this monster stacks your choice of meat (pastrami is my go-to) with melted cheese, a tangy vinegar-based coleslaw, hand-cut fries, and tomato slices between two pieces of thick Italian bread. Yes, the fries are INSIDE the sandwich.
What looks like a gimmick actually works brilliantly—the warm fries soften slightly while maintaining some crispness, the coleslaw adds tang, and the whole thing becomes a portable feast that requires both hands and several napkins.
4. Lebanon Bologna Sandwich: Sweet-Tangy Perfection
Summer afternoons at my grandma’s house always featured these simple yet unforgettable sandwiches. Lebanon bologna—don’t confuse it with regular bologna—is a Pennsylvania Dutch specialty with a fermented, smoky-sweet flavor profile unlike anything else.
Sliced thin and piled generously on soft white bread or a fresh roll, it pairs perfectly with white American cheese and a smear of yellow mustard. Some folks add sweet pickles or mayo, but purists stick to the basics.
The bologna gets its distinctive flavor from a slow smoking process using hardwoods and a secret spice blend that varies by producer. Seltzer’s brand has been making it since 1902 in Lebanon County, and their sweet version has a cult following that extends well beyond Pennsylvania’s borders.
5. Pork Roll Sandwich: Jersey’s Gift To Pennsylvania
My college roommate from South Jersey introduced me to this breakfast miracle, and weekend hangovers were never the same. Technically a New Jersey creation, the pork roll (or Taylor Ham, depending which side of the regional naming dispute you’re on) has firmly embedded itself in Eastern Pennsylvania’s food culture.
This processed pork product gets sliced, grilled until the edges curl up and crisp, then served on a kaiser roll or bagel with melted American cheese and a fried egg. The signature move? Cutting slits around the edges to prevent it from curling up too much during cooking.
The slightly smoky, hammy-yet-unique flavor has an almost addictive quality. Add ketchup if you must, but a true pork roll enthusiast needs nothing more than the holy trinity of meat, egg, and cheese.
6. The Italian Hoagie: A Deli Counter Symphony
My dad’s Sunday ritual involved driving 30 minutes to his favorite deli for their Italian hoagies—a sandwich so sacred he wouldn’t let us eat them in the car for fear of missing even a single fallen piece of shredded lettuce.
A proper Italian hoagie starts with a seeded long roll with just the right amount of chew. Layer on thinly sliced prosciutto, capicola, Genoa salami, and provolone, then add shredded lettuce, thin-sliced tomatoes, onions, and hot peppers. A drizzle of oil and vinegar with a sprinkle of oregano completes the masterpiece.
The magic happens as the sandwich sits for a few minutes, allowing flavors to meld as the oil and meat juices lightly soak into the bread. Every Italian deli in Pennsylvania has their own variation, and locals defend their favorite shop with religious fervor.
7. Chipped Chopped Ham Sandwich: Pittsburgh’s Lunch Counter Classic
Grandma would send me to the deli counter with specific instructions: “Tell them to chip it EXTRA thin!” This Western Pennsylvania specialty features ham ground and sliced so thin it practically dissolves on your tongue.
Isaly’s dairy stores popularized this budget-friendly sandwich during the Depression era. The meat gets piled impossibly high on soft white bread with a swipe of mayo or butter. Some families transform it into BBQ ham by warming the meat with sweet tomato-based sauce—a nostalgic comfort food that defined many Pittsburgh childhoods.
The texture is what makes it special—neither quite sliced nor ground, but “chipped” into paper-thin shavings that create a delicate mouthfeel unlike regular ham. It’s humble food that reflects the region’s blue-collar heritage and waste-nothing mentality.
8. Pepperoni Roll: Coal Miner’s Delight
Though West Virginia claims it as their state food, the pepperoni roll has deep roots in Pennsylvania’s coal country where my grandfather worked the mines. These portable pockets of heaven were designed for miners who needed a hearty, shelf-stable lunch that didn’t require refrigeration.
The concept is beautifully simple: spicy pepperoni sticks or slices baked inside a soft white roll. As it bakes, the oils from the pepperoni seep into the bread, creating a flavor-packed interior that stays moist for days. Some versions include cheese, but traditionalists insist on the pepperoni-only variety.
Corner bakeries throughout coal regions still sell these by the dozen, wrapped in wax paper. The best ones have a slightly crusty exterior that gives way to that oil-infused, pepperoni-studded center—no sauce or additional toppings needed.
9. Hot Sausage Sandwich: Festival Food Royalty
My first hot sausage sandwich came from a street vendor at the Bloomsburg Fair when I was ten—the massive sandwich requiring two hands and at least five napkins. I’ve been chasing that flavor high ever since.
Italian hot sausage links are grilled until slightly charred, then nestled into a sturdy roll that can handle the juicy onslaught. Topped with a mountain of sautéed bell peppers, onions, and sometimes marinara sauce, it’s the ultimate street food experience at Pennsylvania’s countless summer festivals and fairs.
The sausage should have the perfect snap when you bite in, releasing spicy juices that mingle with the sweetness of the peppers. Every Italian neighborhood has a butcher who claims their family recipe is the definitive version, and they might all be right.
10. Scrapple Sandwich: Breakfast Brilliance
“Don’t ask what’s in it, just try it,” my grandfather would say as he served up his favorite breakfast sandwich. Scrapple—that mysterious Pennsylvania Dutch creation made from pork scraps, cornmeal, flour, and spices—might sound questionable but transforms into something magical when properly prepared.
Sliced half-inch thick and fried until crispy on the outside while maintaining a soft center, scrapple develops a texture that’s both crunchy and creamy. Served on toast or a fresh roll with a fried egg and American cheese, it’s the breakfast of champions in Dutch country.
A drizzle of maple syrup or apple butter adds a sweet counterpoint to the savory, peppery meat. Farm stands and diners throughout Lancaster County serve their versions, each claiming superiority based on generations-old recipes.
11. Kielbasa Sandwich: Polish Pride Between Bread
During my college years in Scranton, I discovered that kielbasa sandwiches were serious business in northeastern Pennsylvania’s coal regions. The Polish influence runs deep here, with family recipes guarded like state secrets.
Grilled or pan-fried kielbasa, sliced lengthwise to maximize the crispy surface area, gets placed on a sturdy roll that can stand up to its juicy heft. Sauerkraut provides tangy contrast, while horseradish and spicy mustard add necessary heat. Some spots add caramelized onions for sweetness.
The sausage should have that distinctive garlic and marjoram flavor profile with a satisfying snap to the casing. Church festivals throughout coal country feature competition-worthy versions, often served by babushka-wearing grandmothers who judge your worthiness with each order.
12. Meatball Parm: Italian-American Soul Food
Friday night dinner at my friend Marco’s house usually meant his nonna was making meatball sandwiches that would ruin all other versions for me forever. Pennsylvania’s strong Italian-American communities have perfected this saucy masterpiece.
Hand-rolled meatballs—a mix of beef, pork, and veal if you’re doing it right—simmer for hours in San Marzano tomato gravy until they’re fall-apart tender. They’re then nestled into a crusty Italian roll, topped with ladles of that same rich sauce and blanketed with melted mozzarella and parmesan.
The bread should be crusty enough to hold up to the sauce but soft enough to compress around the meatballs. South Philly’s Italian Market shops compete for meatball supremacy, but the best versions often come from home kitchens where the recipe hasn’t changed in generations.
13. Italian Roast Beef: South Philly Special
The first time I had a proper Italian roast beef sandwich, I nearly wept—the combination of flavors was that profound. This South Philly specialty starts with beef that’s been slow-roasted with Italian herbs and spices until it practically surrenders.
The meat gets sliced paper-thin and piled onto a crusty roll that’s been dipped in rich, garlicky jus. Sharp provolone adds tang, while sautéed greens like spinach or escarole bring a bitter note that balances the richness. Some shops add roasted long hot peppers for heat.
What separates this from other beef sandwiches is the attention to the jus—a flavor-packed liquid gold that should soak into the bread just enough without making it fall apart. Old-school Italian delis throughout Philadelphia serve versions that inspire heated debates about which shop reigns supreme.
14. Turkey Devonshire: Pittsburgh’s Open-Faced Legend
My introduction to the Turkey Devonshire came during a college visit to Pittsburgh, and I still dream about its creamy decadence. Created at the former Devonshire Hotel in the 1930s, this open-faced marvel has maintained its cult status among Steel City natives.
Toasted bread serves as the foundation, topped with slices of roasted turkey breast and crisp bacon. The magic happens when it’s smothered in a signature cheese sauce—a velvety béchamel enhanced with sharp cheddar, paprika, and sometimes a splash of sherry—then broiled until golden and bubbly.
Each restaurant closely guards their sauce recipe, claiming authenticity while adding subtle twists. Though technically requiring a knife and fork, some brave souls attempt to eat it by hand, inevitably creating memorable shirt stains worth every drop.