Pack a Meal’s Worth of Veggies Into One Satisfying Sandwich
Healthy cooking doesn’t have to be complicated. In fact, often the simpler it is, the better it tastes. In Good for You, Test Kitchen editor Rebecca Firkser shares feel-good recipes for any day of the week.
Making vegetarian sandwiches is a self-care practice for me. Where a ham and cheese or BLT can be reduced to the sum of their parts, a good veggie sandwich—especially one that is intended to be a meal, not a snack—requires some rumination. When I find myself with a slow afternoon or warm summer evening, I don’t want to race through assembly. I’ll throw on a podcast, pour myself a fun little drink, and relax into the process. What does the sandwich need? Crunch, richness, probably some protein. And I have to actually want to eat it.
For some, opting for a “veggie sandwich” signals meat forfeited for the sake of nutrition. And it’s true that some groups of people may want to avoid cold cuts for various health concerns, from Listeria to added nitrates. But a vegetarian sandwich isn’t a skimpy alternative. When properly made, it’s a rich, craveable category that will leave your soul (and belly) delightfully full.
There are plenty of iconic sandwiches that happen to be vegetarian. PB&J, eggplant parm, vada pav, tomato, egg—I could go on. But when I think of a proper-noun Veggie Sandwich, one shines brightest: the California Veggie. Sometimes called hippie sandwiches, there isn’t so much a firm recipe for one as there are expected components: sliced veg (duh), a thick layer of sprouts (more on those in a sec), and probably hummus, avocado, maybe planks of tofu or cheese, layered on multigrain or whole-wheat bread.
In Jonathan Kauffman’s Hippie Food, he notes just how “alienating a havarti-and-avocado sandwich would have seemed to most Americans” in the 1960s and ’70s. Yet as the hippie movement rejected mainstream political ideals, the counterculture was also exemplified through food. These folks eschewed the cheap convenience of highly processed meat in favor of nutritional yeast, alfalfa sprouts, and tofu.
You won’t see any of these ingredients in my new Veggie Club Sandwich recipe. Instead, I turn to everyday items I always have around, and build them into something I'd happily eat every day for lunch, or even dinner.
Here's how I make a veggie sandwich to write home about:
Go double-decker with the bread
When I started recipe development, I thought about sandwiches that are deeply important to me. (We all have them!) Firstly, the New Jersey Sloppy Joe: A sandwich of my childhood, it’s composed of three slices of rye, layers composed of deli meat, sometimes cheese, coleslaw, and Russian dressing. (Yes, completely different than the other sloppy Joe.) Then, the Club Sandwich, my go-to order at a diner or via room service: turkey or chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Both boldly opt for three slices of bread instead of two—an architecture I applied to my veggie template. Fun to eat and it’ll keep you full for hours.
Protein doesn’t have to mean tofu
Planks of firm tofu can work wonders in a sandwich recipe (I like it straight from the package, marinated in grated garlic and soy sauce). But there are lots of other plant-based protein sources out there. In this recipe, I opt for a power couple of store-bought hummus and cheddar cheese, two fridge staples for me. If you happen to be vegan, I welcome you to swap the cheese with tofu; you can drizzle it with some additional giardiniera brine (and use a vegan mayo, of course). And lest we forget, just because bread is a carb at heart doesn’t mean it isn’t also a source of protein: Each slice of a seeded multigrain bread brings around 3–5 grams.
No sprouts, no problem
Much as I enjoy their flavor and texture, I can’t recommend eating sprouts. Because of the warm, humid environment they grow in, raw (or even lightly cooked) sprouts can quickly become a breeding ground for bacteria like Salmonella, E. coli, and Listeria. If you crave a thick layer of earthy crunch in a sandwich, consider well-washed microgreens instead.
Call in a big-flavor condiment
In addition to the Joe and Club, I also considered the Vegitalian from New York’s Court Street Grocers as I was working in the Test Kitchen. As its name implies, it’s a vegetarian riff on the Italian sub. It honors the original components instead of fighting with them. The heft of cold cuts become sliced sweet potato, with funk and salt from pecorino and olive relish; mild iceberg is replaced with peppery arugula; and mayo, while verboten on some Italian sandwiches, proves a necessary fat to compensate for lack of meat.
For my Veggie Club, I wanted to channel this maximalist flavor approach, while keeping the preparation to a minimum. Enter: jarred Italian-style giardiniera, a deeply flavorful ingredient available at most supermarkets. Finely chopped and folded into mayo, it’s a brand-new condiment. And bonus, it’s packed in a strong brine, ideal for marinating the thinly sliced cucumber and radish. (Skip Chicago-style versions for this recipe: This version is pre-chopped and packed in an oily brine, and skews greasy when mixed with mayo.)
Most importantly
Do sandwiches taste different when cut crosswise or diagonally? You tell me.
Right this way for more of our favorite vegetarian sandwiches.
