10 Sandwich Chains You’ll Forget By Lunch And 10 That Are Truly The Best
Everyone loves a good sandwich, but not all sandwich chains are created equal.
I’ve spent years chasing the perfect combo of bread, meat, and toppings across America’s fast-casual landscape.
Some places leave such a bland impression that you’ll struggle to remember their name by your next meal.
Others create such mouthwatering masterpieces that you’ll be dreaming about your next visit before you’ve even finished eating.
1. Blimpie: The Forgotten Submarine
Remember Blimpie? Exactly my point. Last summer, I stumbled into one tucked between a laundromat and a discount shoe store. The faded menu and listless employees should’ve been my first clue.
The bread had that peculiar not-quite-fresh texture that no amount of toasting could fix. Their meat portions seemed calculated by scientists determining the absolute minimum needed to technically qualify as a sandwich.
Founded in 1964, Blimpie has been steadily disappearing from the American landscape like a submarine diving into obscurity. With bland offerings and inconsistent quality, it’s no wonder this chain has been overshadowed by more innovative competitors. When better options abound, why settle for mediocrity?
2. Quiznos: Hot Mess Express
Those weird spongmonkey creatures from their early 2000s commercials are more memorable than their actual sandwiches! My last Quiznos experience involved a soggy mess masquerading as their signature toasted sub.
Once boasting over 5,000 locations, Quiznos has shrunk to fewer than 300 stores nationwide. Their rapid decline speaks volumes about their inability to maintain quality or adapt to changing tastes.
Their toasting process, once revolutionary, now feels gimmicky when the ingredients inside don’t measure up. Despite pioneering the toasted sub concept, Quiznos failed to evolve beyond their initial innovation. The chain’s identity crisis—not quite fast food, not quite gourmet—leaves customers wondering why they bothered walking through the door.
3. Schlotzsky’s: Tongue-Twister, Taste-Forgetter
Harder to pronounce than to forget! My cousin dragged me to Schlotzsky’s after raving about their sourdough. Thirty minutes later, I couldn’t recall what I’d eaten despite staring at the half-finished sandwich on my plate.
Their circular sandwiches try to stand out with a distinctive shape, but the contents rarely deliver the flavor punch needed to make a lasting impression. The sourdough, their supposed claim to fame, often lacks that tangy bite that makes real sourdough special.
Founded in Austin in 1971, Schlotzsky’s has expanded its menu to include pizzas and salads—perhaps a tacit admission that their sandwiches alone couldn’t sustain the business. While not terrible, their offerings exist in that dangerous middle ground: not bad enough to complain about, but not good enough to remember.
4. Which Wich: Yellow Bags, Beige Taste
My first Which Wich visit had me excited about their customization system—marking up those little yellow bags with my sandwich preferences felt novel. Unfortunately, the resulting creation tasted like it had been designed by committee.
Their gimmicky ordering system involves checking boxes on paper bags, creating the illusion of endless possibilities. Reality delivers a sandwich that’s competently assembled but somehow lacks soul or distinction.
Founded in 2003, Which Wich tried to differentiate itself through process rather than product. The problem? A fun ordering method can’t compensate for uninspired ingredients and assembly-line execution. Their sandwiches aren’t bad—they’re worse than bad. They’re forgettable, blending into the beige landscape of lunchtime options that fail to leave any impression whatsoever.
5. Firehouse Subs: All Alarm, No Fire
Firehouse Subs banks hard on their firefighter theme, but their sandwiches rarely bring the heat. During a road trip last year, I stopped at one expecting some spicy excitement. What arrived was a perfectly adequate but thoroughly unmemorable meal.
Founded by former firefighter brothers, the chain donates to first responder organizations—a genuinely commendable practice. If only they put as much passion into their sandwich construction as they do their charitable giving!
Their steamed meat process sounds promising but often results in soggy bread that disintegrates halfway through eating. The portion sizes are decent, but the flavor profiles play it so safe they might as well wear reflective vests. When a restaurant’s décor makes a stronger impression than its food, you know something’s amiss in the kitchen.
6. Lenny’s Grill & Subs: Who’s Lenny Again?
Lenny who? Exactly. I accidentally wandered into a Lenny’s last spring while waiting for a delayed flight. Two hours later on the plane, I struggled to remember what I’d eaten despite having the receipt in my pocket.
This Tennessee-based chain promises Philadelphia-style sandwiches but delivers an experience so generic it could be manufactured by AI. Their sliced-to-order meats should be a differentiator, but somehow the final product blends into sandwich purgatory.
With around 100 locations, Lenny’s exists in that peculiar zone of being just successful enough to survive but not distinctive enough to thrive. Their portions are generous—I’ll give them that—but size alone can’t compensate for personality deficit. When your most memorable feature is that you have no memorable features, perhaps it’s time to reconsider your sandwich philosophy.
7. Togo’s: Going, Going, Gone
Last Tuesday, I found myself at Togo’s because, well, it was there. By Wednesday, I couldn’t recall a single distinguishing feature about my sandwich despite spending nearly ten bucks on it.
Founded in California in 1971, Togo’s once seemed poised to conquer the West Coast sandwich scene. Today, their dwindling presence suggests a chain struggling to maintain relevance in an increasingly competitive market.
Their sandwiches aren’t actively bad—that would at least make them memorable. Instead, they exist in that frustrating middle ground: competently assembled but utterly forgettable. The bread lacks character, the meats are sliced too thin, and the vegetables often seem like reluctant participants in the sandwich experience. When a chain’s most distinctive quality is its increasingly rare sightings, the writing’s on the wall.
8. Capriotti’s: Big Promises, Small Impressions
My colleague swore Capriotti’s would change my sandwich worldview. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Their signature Bobbie—a Thanksgiving-inspired creation—left me wondering why anyone would choose turkey when it wasn’t even November.
Founded in Delaware in 1976, Capriotti’s hangs its hat on slow-roasting turkeys overnight. This admirable commitment to quality ingredients somehow doesn’t translate to memorable flavor experiences.
Their sandwiches are substantial, often requiring both hands and multiple napkins to manage. Yet size isn’t everything—the flavors don’t harmonize in ways that make you crave a return visit. The chain’s expansion continues despite this fundamental disconnect, proving that aggressive franchising can sometimes outpace actual customer enthusiasm. When your most distinctive sandwich mimics a holiday meal people only voluntarily eat once a year, reconsideration might be in order.
9. Erbert & Gerbert’s: Quirky Name, Forgettable Game
Erbert & Gerbert’s sounds like a Victorian-era law firm, not a sandwich shop. During a Midwest road trip, I stopped at one purely because the name amused me. The amusement ended when I bit into their unremarkable creation.
Founded by a father who named the chain after characters from bedtime stories he told his children, the charming origin fails to translate into charming sandwiches. Their signature move—removing some bread from the middle to create a “gutter”—seems more gimmicky than functional.
Primarily located in college towns, they’ve found their niche serving students too hungry or hurried to be discerning. Their sandwiches aren’t offensive—they’re just there, existing without purpose or passion. The chain’s storybook inspiration might explain why their offerings feel like incomplete narratives: all setup, no satisfying conclusion.
10. Penn Station East Coast Subs: Identity Crisis on a Roll
Not connected to the famous New York train station, despite desperately wanting you to think so! I visited Penn Station in Ohio (yes, really) and left wondering why they bothered with the East Coast pretense when their sandwiches screamed “Midwest mediocre.”
Their grilled subs aim to elevate the standard sub experience but often fall victim to inconsistent execution. One location might deliver a decent sandwich while another produces something barely recognizable as food.
Founded in Cincinnati in 1985, Penn Station built its reputation on fresh-cut fries and lemonade—side items outshining their actual sandwiches. When your sandwich chain is better known for its potatoes, something’s fundamentally askew. Their menu plays it safe with standard combinations that neither offend nor inspire, creating the perfect recipe for being completely forgotten by dinner time.
11. Jersey Mike’s: Shore-Style Satisfaction
Holy mother of subs! The first time I watched a Jersey Mike’s employee slice the meat right in front of me, I knew this wasn’t your average sandwich experience. Their bread has that perfect crackle-then-yield texture that haunts my dreams.
Founded in Point Pleasant, New Jersey in 1956, Jersey Mike’s brings authentic shore-style subs to the masses without compromising quality. Their “Mike’s Way” preparation—onions, lettuce, tomatoes, vinegar, oil, and spices—creates a harmonious balance that elevates every bite.
What sets them apart isn’t just the fresh-sliced meats or the bread baked in-house daily—it’s the genuine care employees seem to take in crafting each sandwich. Unlike chains that expanded too quickly and lost their soul, Jersey Mike’s growth has been measured, maintaining consistency across locations. When a sandwich chain makes you contemplate moving closer to their store, you know they’ve hit sandwich nirvana.
12. Potbelly Sandwich Shop: Comfort Food Elevation
Stepping into Potbelly feels like visiting your coolest friend’s house—if that friend happened to make incredible sandwiches and play live music. My first Potbelly experience in Chicago featured a guitarist strumming in the corner while I devoured their Italian with hot peppers.
Their toasted sandwiches achieve that elusive perfect temperature—hot enough to enhance flavors without burning your mouth. The bread develops a beautiful exterior crunch while maintaining a soft interior that cradles the fillings just right.
Started as an antique store that served sandwiches in 1977, Potbelly retains that neighborhood charm despite nationwide expansion. Their menu doesn’t try to reinvent sandwich science—it simply executes classic combinations with precision and quality ingredients. Add their hand-dipped shakes and homemade cookies, and you’ve got a meal that satisfies on every level.
13. Subway: Customization King
Laugh if you must, but Subway earns its crown through sheer adaptability. Last month, I watched in awe as my indecisive friend created a sandwich monstrosity that no menu would ever deliberately offer—and the Subway employee didn’t even flinch.
With over 37,000 locations worldwide, Subway could easily rest on its ubiquity. Instead, they’ve embraced customization as their superpower. Where else can you request exact amounts of every ingredient while watching your creation come to life?
Their bread may not win artisanal awards, but that fresh-baked smell remains an irresistible siren call in malls and airports everywhere. Subway’s genius lies in making everyone feel like a sandwich artist—giving customers control over every aspect of their meal. For consistency, availability, and the ability to create exactly what you’re craving in that moment, Subway deserves respect in the sandwich pantheon.
14. Jimmy John’s: Speed Demons Of Sandwich Craft
I still remember my first Jimmy John’s delivery—I’d barely hung up the phone before a sandwich materialized at my door, seemingly teleported by sandwich wizards. Their “freaky fast” slogan isn’t marketing fluff; it’s a legitimate superpower.
Founded by Jimmy John Liautaud in 1983, the chain has built its reputation on simplicity executed flawlessly. Their French bread achieves that perfect chewy-yet-crisp texture that makes you question why other sandwich bread even exists.
What distinguishes Jimmy John’s isn’t just speed—it’s their commitment to freshness. Their vegetables are sliced daily, their bread baked in-house, and their meats are quality cuts without unnecessary fillers. The menu deliberately avoids trendy complexities, focusing instead on perfecting classic combinations. When a sandwich chain knows exactly what it is and refuses to compromise its standards, the result is consistently excellent.
15. Ike’s Love & Sandwiches: Cult Following For Good Reason
My first Ike’s experience felt like joining a secret society. The menu with hundreds of oddly-named options (Matt Cain? Menage a Trois?) initially overwhelmed me until a friendly regular guided me toward the “Dirty Sauce” revelation that would forever change my sandwich standards.
Founded in San Francisco by Ike Shehadeh in 2007, this chain has expanded through pure sandwich evangelism. Their signature Dutch crunch bread gets a smear of garlic aioli before toasting, creating a flavor foundation that’s immediately recognizable to initiates.
What makes Ike’s special isn’t just creative combinations—it’s the integrity of execution. Every wild ingredient pairing somehow works harmoniously, defying conventional sandwich wisdom. Their willingness to experiment with halal, vegan, and gluten-free options without sacrificing flavor demonstrates a commitment to inclusivity rarely seen in the sandwich world. When a sandwich inspires devotion bordering on religious fervor, you know it’s transcended mere lunch status.
16. Mendocino Farms: Farm-To-Face Excellence
Mendocino Farms makes sandwiches that feel like they should cost twice as much as they do. My first bite of their Kurobuta Pork Belly Banh Mi nearly made me propose marriage to the sandwich itself—a moment of pure flavor transcendence.
Founded in Los Angeles in 2005, Mendocino Farms elevated the sandwich from casual lunch to culinary experience without pretension. Their commitment to sourcing from local farms and artisan producers results in ingredients that sing with freshness and quality.
What distinguishes them is their chef-driven approach to sandwich creation. Each offering feels carefully crafted rather than assembled, with flavors that build and complement rather than compete. Their seasonal menu changes showcase a genuine excitement about ingredients that’s infectious. When a sandwich shop makes you reconsider your life choices and contemplate culinary school, you know they’ve tapped into something special.
17. East Hampton Sandwich Co.: Upscale Without Attitude
Lobster rolls shouldn’t exist in Texas, yet East Hampton Sandwich Co. somehow makes them feel native to the Lone Star State. During a Dallas business trip, I stumbled upon their location and experienced a sandwich epiphany involving their fried chicken + jack sandwich that still haunts my taste memories.
Founded in 2012, this Texas-based chain brings East Coast sandwich sensibilities to new territories without the snobbery such transplants often carry. Their bread selections—from pretzel rolls to herb ciabatta—provide the perfect foundation for thoughtfully constructed fillings.
What makes them special is their balance of sophistication and accessibility. Ingredients like truffle honey and Meyer lemon vinaigrette appear alongside classic options, creating a menu that satisfies both adventurous eaters and traditionalists. Their bright, airy spaces invite lingering rather than rushing, elevating the sandwich from mere fuel to proper dining experience.
18. McAlister’s Deli: Southern Hospitality In Sandwich Form
McAlister’s sweet tea alone justifies their existence, but their sandwiches seal the deal. During a summer road trip through Mississippi, I discovered their McAlister’s Club—a towering monument to sandwich engineering that required strategic planning just to take the first bite.
Founded in Oxford, Mississippi in 1989, McAlister’s brings Southern hospitality to the sandwich world. Their portions reflect that generosity of spirit—nobody leaves hungry, and most leave with tomorrow’s lunch too.
What distinguishes them isn’t just quantity but thoughtful execution. Their diverse menu ranges from deli classics to unique creations like the Spicy Southwest Chicken Griller, all served with genuine warmth. Their restaurants invite lingering conversations over endless tea refills, creating community spaces rather than mere refueling stations. When a sandwich chain makes you feel like you’re visiting family rather than just grabbing lunch, they’ve mastered something beyond mere food service.
19. Panera Bread: Bakery-Fresh Revolution
Panera fundamentally changed America’s expectations of what quick-service restaurants could be. My college years were fueled by their Bacon Turkey Bravo sandwiches and bottomless coffee during marathon study sessions in their comfortable dining rooms.
Founded as St. Louis Bread Company in 1987, Panera pioneered the concept of “fast casual” before it had a name. Their commitment to clean ingredients and menu transparency raised the bar for the entire industry, proving that quality and convenience weren’t mutually exclusive.
What makes Panera special isn’t just their bread (though it’s excellent)—it’s their understanding of context. Their restaurants provide environments conducive to everything from business meetings to first dates, with food that supports rather than dominates these experiences. Their seasonal menu changes keep options fresh while maintaining beloved standards. When a sandwich chain becomes a legitimate “third place” between home and work, they’ve transcended mere food service.
20. Wawa: Convenience Store Sandwich Wizardry
Non-East Coasters might struggle to understand the religious devotion Wawa inspires, but one bite of their made-to-order hoagies explains everything. During a Philadelphia visit, my local friend insisted we get Wawa sandwiches at midnight—an experience that made me question why all convenience stores can’t achieve this level of excellence.
Founded in Pennsylvania in 1964, Wawa evolved from a simple dairy store to a sandwich destination that happens to sell gas. Their touchscreen ordering system pioneered customization before it was trendy, giving customers control while maintaining efficiency.
What makes Wawa magical isn’t just convenience—it’s consistent quality regardless of location or time of day. Their bread arrives fresh daily, their ingredients remain crisp, and their assembly never feels rushed despite high volume. Their seasonal specialties (like the Gobbler Thanksgiving sandwich) create anticipation while their standards provide reliability. When a gas station sandwich makes you plan road trips around their locations, culinary sorcery is clearly at work.