11 Missouri Fast-Food Sandwiches From The ’80s That Are Long Gone (But Still Craved)

Remember when fast food meant more than just burgers and fries?
The 1980s were the golden age of experimental sandwiches across Missouri’s fast-food landscape.
I still dream about these iconic creations that vanished from menus before the internet could immortalize them.
Join me on this calorie-laden trip down memory lane as we revisit the sandwiches that defined my teenage years in the Show-Me State.
1. McDonald’s McDLT – Hot Stays Hot, Cool Stays Cool

My first high school date involved a McDLT and sweaty palms. The innovative packaging kept the hot burger patty on one side and the cool lettuce and tomato on the other until you were ready to assemble sandwich perfection!
The styrofoam container might have been an environmental nightmare, but the taste was heavenly. That distinct separation of temperatures created a texture experience that modern McDonald’s simply can’t replicate.
When they discontinued it in 1990, I actually called our local McDonald’s manager to complain. He offered me a free McRib instead, which was like offering someone a bicycle after taking away their Corvette. Nothing has matched that first bite sensation since.
2. Burger King’s Yumbo Hot Ham & Cheese – The Royal Comeback That Fizzled

Saturdays meant mall trips and Yumbos with my cousin Tina. Burger King’s hot ham and cheese sandwich was simplicity incarnate—warm, thinly-sliced ham piled high with melted American cheese on a soft sesame seed bun.
BK briefly resurrected it in 2014, but the magic was gone. The original ’80s version had this perfect salt-to-butter ratio that made your taste buds dance. Plus, they used to toast the inside of the bun until it had that satisfying crunch.
Fun fact: The Yumbo got its quirky name from a marketing team who thought “yummy” and “jumbo” made the perfect sandwich portmanteau. Missouri teens like me just called it heaven in a wrapper.
3. Hardee’s Roast Beef Sandwich – The Arby’s Challenger

Before Hardee’s became Carl’s Jr.’s Midwestern cousin, they served a roast beef sandwich that put Arby’s on notice. Growing up in Springfield, our local Hardee’s was THE after-church Sunday spot precisely because of this beauty.
Unlike today’s overly processed offerings, this sandwich featured actual slices of roast beef—not the pressed and formed mystery meat we’ve grown accustomed to. The sesame seed bun came lightly buttered and toasted, with just enough horseradish sauce to make your sinuses tingle without overwhelming the meat.
The sandwich disappeared during the chain’s menu consolidation in the late ’80s. My dad still mentions it whenever we pass a Hardee’s, sighing dramatically and muttering, “They just don’t make ’em like that anymore.”
4. Wendy’s Superbar Sub – The All-You-Can-Stuff Sensation

College budget meals reached peak efficiency with Wendy’s Superbar in Columbia, Missouri. For under $4, you could create a sub sandwich masterpiece from their Italian bar section—and nobody stopped you from making multiple trips!
The DIY process was half the fun: grabbing a soft hoagie roll, loading it with pasta salad, deli meats, cheese, and as many veggies as structurally possible. Smart customers knew to add a layer of spaghetti sauce for extra flavor and to help everything stick together.
My roommate once managed to construct a sub so tall it collapsed before reaching our table. The manager just laughed and said, “Engineering major?” The Superbar concept died in the early ’90s, taking with it the greatest sandwich value in fast-food history.
5. Taco Bell’s Bell Beefer – When Taco Meat Met Burger Bun

The Bell Beefer was Taco Bell’s bizarre yet brilliant answer to the Sloppy Joe. As a kid growing up in Kansas City, this sandwich was my gateway drug to Mexican food—essentially a taco in burger form with seasoned beef, diced onions, lettuce, and mild sauce on a burger bun.
Mom would bribe me to finish homework with promises of Bell Beefers on Friday nights. The genius was in its portability—you could eat it without half the ingredients ending up in your lap, unlike their tacos. They even offered a Supreme version with cheese and tomatoes!
Legend has it that Taco Bell quietly phased it out to shift focus toward more “authentic” Mexican offerings. Ironic, considering nothing screams authentic Mexican cuisine like ground beef on a hamburger bun with packets of mild sauce.
6. Arby’s Turkey Deluxe – The Thanksgiving Leftover Impersonator

Long before Arby’s claimed they “had the meats,” they mastered turkey with the Turkey Deluxe. This sandwich hit differently in St. Louis winters—warm, thinly-sliced turkey breast topped with lettuce, tomato, and mayo on their signature onion roll.
What made it special was the quality of the turkey. Not that pressed, formed lunch meat stuff, but actual carved-style turkey that reminded you of Thanksgiving leftovers. My high school girlfriend and I would split one after catching movies at the Galleria.
They discontinued it during the beef-focused rebrand of the late ’80s. Modern Arby’s turkey offerings are mere shadows of this masterpiece. The Turkey Deluxe was the sandwich that convinced my perpetually-dieting aunt that fast food could actually taste like real food.
7. Jack In The Box Frings Combo Sandwich – The Indecisive Eater’s Dream

The Frings Combo was Jack in the Box’s answer to the eternal question: “Burger or chicken sandwich?” Their solution? Both! Half hamburger, half chicken patty, separated by cheese and united by a special sauce that I’ve tried unsuccessfully to recreate for decades.
During my summer job at Worlds of Fun in KC, this was my go-to lunch splurge. The contrasting textures—beef’s chew versus chicken’s tenderness—created a taste experience that no single-protein sandwich could match.
My buddy Mark once ate three in one sitting on a dare. The manager was so impressed he gave Mark a paper crown, which he wore proudly until it dissolved in sweat. The Frings vanished around 1989, leaving behind only fond memories and a few extra pounds on my teenage frame.
8. Sonic’s Patty Melt Deluxe – Drive-In Decadence On Texas Toast

Summer nights in Joplin meant one thing: cruising to Sonic for their Patty Melt Deluxe. This wasn’t your standard patty melt—it came on extra-thick Texas toast with a seasoned beef patty, two kinds of melted cheese, grilled onions, and a mysterious “secret sauce” that elevated it to legendary status.
Car hops delivered these beauties on metal trays that hooked onto your rolled-down window. The sandwich was always wrapped in foil, creating a steam chamber that melted the cheeses to perfection.
Teenage me would save lawn-mowing money all week for Friday night Patty Melts. When they disappeared from the menu around 1988, our local car hop told me it was because the special bread supplier went out of business. No modern recreation has captured that perfect balance of buttery crunch and gooey cheese.
9. Dairy Queen’s Pizzaburger – The Identity Crisis On A Bun

Before the Blizzard dominated DQ’s identity, they experimented with crossover foods like the magnificent Pizzaburger. I discovered this gem at the Branson Dairy Queen during a family vacation in 1984—a hamburger patty topped with pizza sauce, mozzarella, and pepperoni on a toasted bun.
The Pizzaburger solved the impossible choice between pizza and burgers. The combination shouldn’t have worked, but somehow the tangy sauce cut through the richness of the beef, creating flavor harmony. My sister and I begged to return three times during that week-long vacation.
Missouri DQs seemed to keep it longer than other states—our hometown location in Jefferson City served them until around 1987. I’ve tried recreating it at home, but without that specific DQ pizza sauce recipe, it’s just not the same.
10. White Castle Surf & Turf Slider – Mini Majesty Of Land And Sea

White Castle’s experimental phase brought us the Surf & Turf Slider—a culinary odd couple that worked surprisingly well. Growing up in St. Louis, late-night White Castle runs were a teenage rite of passage, and this slider was the crown jewel of 2 AM dining.
The concept was simple yet revolutionary: a classic beef slider patty topped with a golden-fried fish portion, tartar sauce, and a slice of cheese. The contrasting flavors of beef and fish created an umami explosion that perfectly satisfied post-concert munchies.
My best friend’s older brother claimed to have eaten twelve in one sitting. We believed him because he was a football player, though in retrospect, that seems physiologically questionable. The slider disappeared by 1989, leaving behind only greasy memories and the occasional nostalgic mention on St. Louis retro food blogs.
11. Rax BBC (Beef, Bacon & Cheddar) – The Forgotten Arby’s Rival

Before Rax Restaurants vanished from Missouri’s fast-food landscape, they served a sandwich that haunts my dreams: the BBC (Beef, Bacon & Cheddar). Unlike anything at Arby’s, this masterpiece featured thinly sliced roast beef, crispy bacon, and melted cheddar sauce on a toasted onion roll.
Our Cape Girardeau location had a salad bar, so Dad would get his “healthy” lunch while I devoured this monstrosity of meaty goodness. The secret was their proprietary cheddar sauce—smoky, sharp, and somehow always the perfect temperature without burning your mouth.
When our local Rax converted to a Hardee’s in 1988, I wrote a letter to the company begging for the cheese sauce recipe. They sent me a coupon for a free milkshake at another location 200 miles away. Cold comfort for a lost sandwich love.