Words by Ryan Cleland (he/him)
What is a sandwich? That's the ultimate question. One I ask myself everytime I step into the green and yellow entrance of my local Subway—as I’m sure you, my dear reader, do as well. And so I went to the expert on the matter, The United States Department of Agriculture. The USDA defines closed sandwiches as containing "at least 35% cooked meat and no more than 50% bread" and open sandwiches as having "at least 50% cooked meat." However, the same USDA manual categorises burritos and fajitas as "sandwich-like" and frankfurters as "sandwich type." So it seems as though there is no definition that is correct because clearly frankfurters are not sandwich type! (get it together USDA, I am not mad, merely disappointed).
Okay, so if the U.S Government cant help on the matter, then surely Great Britain can. Well as a matter of fact they are the alleged inventor of the sandwich! Or rather John Montague, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, is the “alleged” inventor of the sandwich. Rather famously, the story goes, that ole Johnny boy loved the pokies an extreme amount, would gamble for hours at a time and, much like those in the throes of IBS, refused to leave his seat. Thus he would request his servants to bring him meat placed between two loaves of bread. And while this myth is very much surrounded in a shadowy mist of what we in the journalism call “extreme embellishment”, it has immortalised Montague's name in sandwich history. In honour of the great Earl of Sandwich, I have scoured the far outer reaches of Wellington, in my quest for the ultimate sandwich! Without further ado, and in no particular order, I present my top nominees.
Subway - Kelburn Campus
Italian BMT on Roasted Garlic - $9.30
So I know what you're thinking. Ryan! A subway sub is not the greatest sandwich of all time. And to that I say dear reader, there is a baseline that we must measure everything by. For every luxury yacht, there's a humble fishing boat. For every couture gown there is your favourite pair of jeans. Subway is humble and homely; it knows it is not a Michelin star restaurant and yet it delivers. My friends “allege” that, much like John Montague’s gambling vices, my vice is the lovely Subway of the Easterfield Building. When you first step into those sliding plexiglass doors, you are greeted with the heavenly aroma of freshly baked ‘bread’ (In 2020 the Irish Supreme Court ruled the bread-like substance to be closer to cake). What’s not to love? And that is why Subway always holds a place as the constant of the sandwich family; you can find it everywhere, and you know that you will be in the safe (freshly gloved) hands of a certified Sandwich Artist, at a reasonable price.
Fred’s - Cuba Street
Fred’s Pastrami Melt - $15.50
As I step into the orange and white pastel aesthetic of Fred’s vintage food bar, a single sign above reads: ‘Sandwiches’. It knows exactly what needs to be said. Fred’s offers a variety of both untoasted and toasted options. Settling into the Pastrami Melt, I sat there reading my weekly copy of Sandwich Digest, and prepared to digest a local delight. Fred’s is known for its melts, and it is clear why. The golden brown bread is Wellington-made sourdough in what I assume is called "Well-Bred, Well-Read, Ready for Spread Fred’s Bread”. Their special sauce oozes out of the crust and makes for a delicious sandwich—for a modest price in today's anti-sammy economy. Fred’s is the king of the toasted sandwich, and its fantastic ingredients and calming decor make you feel like an English record producer and DJ—the way you want to go to Fred Again.
Romeo’s - Te Aro
Romeo’s Deli Roll Sandwich - $18.00
Hidden Just off of Cuba Street you can find a quaint little hole-in-the-wall: Romeo’s Deli and Bar. A somewhat secret sandwich locale, Romeo’s had a delectable display of options accompanied with a busy drinks menu, for that ‘it's 5 o’clock somewhere’ vibe.
“Oh Romeo! Oh Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”
“3/126 Vivian Street!”, an eerie voice replies.
Romeo’s has Jenga and Snakes and Ladders, to fill the time while you wait for Head Chef Romeo to whip you up a sammy. Also, there’s a 10% student discount—so be sure to wave that ID before purchasing. Romeo’s sandwiches tend to straddle the line between toasted and fresh—and who cares? What's in a name? A sandwich by any other name would taste as good. And whilst Romeo’s asks a high price, the student discount helps it recover. It gets the Montague seal of approval.
Good Boy Sammies - Newtown
Steak, Onion, Shallot and Padano Sandwich - $18.00
Local Newtown sandwich bar Good Boy Sammies has earned a reputation as one of the top sandwich spots in Wellington. Located near Wellington Hospital, Good Boy Sammies was founded by former music students Alexander Green and James Paul, who aimed to craft unique and elaborate sandwiches each week. At GBS (Acronym pending I’m sure), they offer a rotating menu featuring two meat options and one vegetarian option, ensuring there's always a new ‘sammie’ to try. However, if you find a favourite, you might have to wait a while to enjoy it again. While Good Boy Sammies has high prices, they justify them with the most versatile and exciting menu among local sandwich options. Good Job, Good Boy Sammies!
Sir Breadwins - Lambton Quay
Sir Gallahad on Long Bread - $14.50
In the far off land of Lambton Quay, nestled between fabled JB Morrison Lawyers and Jean Jacques Hair Design, stands a charming sandwich shop called Sir Breadwins. Sir Breadwins serves some of the best untoasted sammies in all the land, each with invariably punny names. You can order, from the round table that is their menu, a Sir Gallahad or even a Sir Lancelot to start your day. Delivered on either Long or square Molenberg or rye bread, the options are limitless at Sir Breadwins—you can even construct your own ‘Sandwich of the Round Table’. A combination of healthy ingredients and a good selection of non-sandwich goods make Sir Breadwins a hidden gem of sandwich royalty.