From old-school delis and mom and pop shops to ubiquitous restaurant chains, there is no shortage of quality sandwiches across the country. But as is the case with every type of food and cuisine, like burger joints and pizzerias, the best sandwiches are often not defined by the sheer number of storefronts, but by the quality, care, and innovation that goes into each order.
That's been clearly established in my recent taste-tests at Jersey Mike's and Firehouse Subs, two widespread chains with hit-or-miss menu items —and occasionally, superlative meatball subs.
Next up in the sandwich showdown is Jimmy John's, a now-iconic brand with nearly 3,000 locations across the country. A go-to for chefs, the chain certainly has its fair share of fans, but how do its most popular sandwiches stack up?
To dig deeper and get a thorough taste, I visited a local Jimmy John's in Oklahoma City to sample some of the shop's most popular options, across a relatively wide array of styles and ingredients. Having tried seven of them, the results were far more surprising than I expected.
Here's how each sub ranked in descending order from my least favorite to the overall best.
JJBLT
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 590
Fat: 32 g (Saturated Fat: 8 g)
Sodium: 1,340 mg
Carbs: 47 g (Fiber: 4 g, Sugar: 2 g)
Protein: 24 g
Come summertime, it doesn't get more quintessentially comforting than a good ol' fashioned BLT. Which is why I had unrealistically high hopes for Jimmy John's iteration of the classic sandwich, made with familiar fixin's of bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. On paper, it's perfect in its simplicity, but in execution, it was the biggest disappointment of the bunch. The 8-inch sub cost me $7.49.
The look: It's never a good sign when you have to dig through your BLT to find basic, key ingredients like tomatoes. And the near-lack of tomatoes was only the tip of the iceberg with this relative travesty of a sandwich, which looked limp, sad, and skimpy. The bacon was really the only visible component, which isn't ideal considering how pale and unseasoned the bland strips of meat looked. Couple that with the bread, which was pretty uniformly unappetizing across the board, and this certainly did not satisfy any summery BLT cravings.
The taste: If there's a point to be earned here, it's that the sandwich tasted pretty much exactly how it looked. Unfortunately, neither are good, but at least it was uniform. The bacon was as oddly devoid of flavor as it appeared, with nary any flavor whatsoever, save for a whisper of smokiness on the aftertaste. Lettuce and tomato were almost entirely MIA, and the sandwich needed more mayo to add…something…anything. The whole thing was one-note (i.e. bland bacon), and tasted weirdly artificial, like it was a BLT imagined erroneously by A.I.
Big John
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 500
Fat: 21 g (Saturated Fat: 3.5 g)
Sodium: 1,100 mg
Carbs: 47 g (Fiber: 4 g, Sugar: 2 g)
Protein: 26 g
I'll admit that I'm somewhat biased against roast beef. For as long as I could chew, I've never found it appetizing, and it's by far my least favorite form of beef. Which is why I never go to Arby's. But back to Jimmy John's: I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised with this chain's version, made simply with roast beef, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Considering its low placement on this list, you can probably guess that the Big John did not alter my bias. This sub also cost me $7.49.
The look: Much like the JJBLT, this thing looked like a flavorless disappointment. Although I ordered all sandwiches cut in half, this one—and the JJBLT, for that matter—were not sliced at all. Instead, it was a paltry-looking sandwich with slivers of roast beef slumped over the under-baked edges. The main takeaways in my notes were "boring" and "basic," which is never a good sign.
The taste: Things didn't improve upon first bite. My first reaction was literally, "this tastes like nothing," with none of that tender, succulent butteriness sometimes associated with good roast beef. Instead, this was as bland as the aforementioned bacon, with the lettuce and tomato adding flavor and texture that felt at odds with the intended richness of the sandwich.
Totally Tuna
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 500
Fat: 22 g (Saturated Fat: 3 g)
Sodium: 1,170 mg
Carbs: 51 g (Fiber: 5 g, Sugar: 4 g)
Protein: 21 g
Considering the infamy of the tuna subs at Subway, I've always been a little wary about tuna salad sandwiches at fast-food chains. So I was definitely a little hesitant about trying the Totally Tuna from Jimmy John's, a classic concoction of tuna salad, cucumber, lettuce, and tomato. Although it certainly wasn't as bad as I feared, it also wasn't particularly impressive, landing it somewhere in the middle of the fray. Like the prior two subs, this one also cost $47.49.
The look: Right off the bat, there's no way this sandwich was going to rise any higher on the taste-test, thanks to its meh appearance alone. The tuna wasn't even visible at first, and I basically needed to dig through the lettuce to find out which sandwich this was. The veggies looked fresh and vibrant at least, but the portion of tuna was skimpy at best, and again, the ho-hum sandwich bread isn't doing it any favors.
The taste: It tastes better than it looks, and the tuna flavor really comes through more than I expected, considering how meager it appeared. Even so, the tuna tasted super basic, like it just came directly out of a can. I don't have anything against canned tuna, but it's also not adding any wow factor, and it made the bread too damp and mushy. I liked the salinity of it, and how it contrasted with the crunchy cucumber though.
The Veggie
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 670
Fat: 39 g (Saturated Fat: 13 g)
Sodium: 1,160 mg
Carbs: 50 g (Fiber: 5g, Sugar: 2 g)
Protein: 27 g
I didn't have particularly high hopes for the Veggie sandwich, which reads as a throwaway item designed to accommodate dietary restrictions. It's literally just provolone, avocado spread, cucumber, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. The same ingredients in some of the other sandwiches, minus the deli meat. Upon first look and first taste, it was clear that this was…fine. Again, this one cost me $7.49.
The look: Most of what I saw here was cheese, which certainly isn't a problem for me. The bread somehow looked better than the previous sandwiches, and the preparer clearly didn't skimp on the provolone, which is nice to see. Still, it looked more like a cheese sandwich than a veggie one, with not enough discernible greenery for my liking, save for a shmear of avocado spread.
The taste: Again, it tasted just fine, but mostly just provolone. I happen to like provolone, so it works for me, but for anyone hoping for actual veggies in their Veggie sandwich, it would probably be a disappointment. The avocado spread comes through loudly, but it drowns out the freshness of the cucumbers, lettuce, and tomato, and the mayo is utterly buried under the heft of the guac.
Beach Club
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 860
Fat: 40 g (Saturated Fat: 13 g)
Sodium: 1,940 mg
Carbs: 74 g (Fiber: 7 g, Sugar: 2 g)
Protein: 45 g
If you want the Veggie sandwich with some extra oomph, then the Beach Club is the one for you, considering that it's effectively the exact same thing, but with sliced turkey. And it's that deli meat that helps elevate this otherwise fine sandwich a notch above its meatless counterpart. This one cost a bit more than the others at $8.69.
The look: I could almost reiterate verbatim from the Veggie critique, considering how twin-like these sandwiches appeared, but again, the addition of turkey at least adds another central ingredient to help it stand out. And I appreciate that, like the provolone, the sandwich maker didn't skimp on the turkey at all.
The taste: Meaty, robust, and filling, it was one of the heftier sandwiches of the bunch. That's thanks to the front-and-center abundance of turkey and provolone, which taste good in and of themselves, but along with that avocado spread, they kind of drown out the rest of the filler veggies. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually could have used less of that avocado spread, which wound up being too distracting, in favor of more cucumbers and tomato.
Italian Night Club
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 930
Fat: 46 g (Saturated Fat: 14 g)
Sodium: 2,850 mg
Carbs: 77 g (Fiber: 6 g, Sugar: 5 g)
Protein: 48 g
In recent taste-tests at Firehouse Subs and Jersey Mike's, Italian subs proved to be the most reliably tasty sandwiches. So, naturally, I had high expectations for the Italian Night Club at Jimmy John's, made with salami, capocollo, ham, provolone, onion, lettuce, tomato, mayo, oil, vinegar, oregano, and basil. The Italian sub cost me $8.69.
The look: Fantastic! If this ranking were based on looks alone, this would be the best sandwich by a mile. With cured meats and cheese literally spilling over the edges, it looked hearty and balanced, not to mention luscious and decadent. It's the kind of sandwich that whets an appetite.
The taste: The main contrast here, when compared to other reigning Italian champs at places like Firehouse Subs and Jersey Mike's, is that the Italian Night Club is good—not great. I enjoyed the peppery bite to the cured meats, and the spice that gently smolders alongside the herbs and oil. Everything harmonizes well, and nothing feels out of balance, but it still tasted somewhat basic and a little too straightforward for my liking, while some of the more interesting additions—like basil and onion—were not really pronounced at all.
Indeed, it was vastly better than most of the rest of the sandwiches—but in this case, it wasn't quite the best.
Jimmy Cubano
Nutrition: (Per One Regular Sub)
Calories: 720
Fat: 38 g (Saturated Fat: 12 g)
Sodium: 2,690 mg
Carbs: 47 g (Fiber: 4 g, Sugar: 1 g)
Protein: 38 g
The biggest plot twist of the tasting was not just that the Italian sub wasn't the presumed victor, but that the sandwich that seemed the biggest gamble wound up on top. The Jimmy Cubano—a loose homage to the classic Cuban sandwich, made with bacon, ham, provolone, pickles, mayo, and yellow mustard—felt risky, if for no other reason than blatant inauthenticity. Still, I can't deny that the taste helped take it from underdog to winner. This sub cost me $8.69.
The look: Not winning any beauty contests. Based purely on appearance, this wouldn't rank nearly as high as it did, considering the unexpected bacon addition is really the main thing that comes through. And as mentioned in earlier ho-hum sandwiches, Jimmy John's doesn't appear to excel at bacon. But with ham, pickles, and bright-yellow mustard peeking out, this is a sandwich that hints at something greater.
The taste: Way better than expected. The ham does a lot of the meaty heavy lifting, in lieu of the forgettable bacon, and the mustard adds the right amount of zing to help it stand out dramatically. A little smoky, a little zesty, a little crunchy, and a little salty, it's the most balanced and textured of all the sandwiches I sampled.
While it's certainly not an authentic Cubano you'd expect to find in Miami, it's a bold choice on a menu of (mostly) safe choices. And its great taste was single-handedly impressive enough to catapult the Jimmy Cubano to first place.
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