Do you remember the sandwiches your grandma used to make? No, not the fancy ones. I’m talking about the weird ones. The ones that make you go, “Did we really eat that?” You know the ones. They were born in a different world, a time when “comfort food” wasn’t about gourmet mac and cheese. The term was only coined in 1970 by the one and only Liza Minnelli, who said, “Comfort food is anything you just yum, yum, yum”. Back then, it was a confession: butter and onions on rye, sardines straight from the can, or a simple brown sugar sandwich.
These were the foods of the Great Depression and World War II, an era of what you might call “dietary whiplash.” Food was about survival. It was about frugality. As food historian Jane Ziegelman puts it, the Depression forced a shift where “eating for calories and nutrient took precedence over taste and texture.” This was a time of “lard-based cuisine,” where a family of ten might plow through four loaves of bread a day just to get by.
Fast forward to today, and we’re living in a different culinary universe. We’ve gone from spending hours cooking to an average of just 39 minutes a day on meal prep and cleanup. And here’s the kicker: over half of what we eat is now ultra-processed.
With that in mind, here are 13 sandwiches that tell the story of a bygone America. Some are weird, some are wonderful, and some… well, some probably deserve to be forgotten. You be the judge.
The Tomato Soup Sandwich
Let’s start with a real head-scratcher. You take rye bread, slather it with butter, add a lettuce leaf, and then spread undiluted canned tomato soup right on top. Another leaf of lettuce, another slice of bread, and you’re done. No cooking. No dipping. Just… soup on bread.
So why did this strange concoction even exist? It was a perfect storm of its time. During the Great Depression, canned goods were modern marvels: cheap, shelf-stable, and a godsend for families who were stretching every penny. By the end of the Depression, Campbell’s had five soup flavors that were staples in every pantry. This sandwich was a way to create a “hearty” meal from two basic items without even lighting the stove.
The decline was inevitable. Let’s be honest: texture. The thought of cold, goopy, soup-soaked bread is a tough sell today. Our palates have evolved, too. We’ve been exposed to global cuisines and expect complex flavors. Today’s “tomato soup sandwich” is a fancy grilled cheese served with a bowl of fire-roasted tomato-basil bisque, not canned concentrate on plain rye.
The Lard and Sugar Sandwich
This one is the epitome of simple calories. You take a slice of bread, spread it with lard (rendered pork fat), and sprinkle it with sugar for a sweet treat. Or, if you were feeling savory, just a dash of salt.
This wasn’t just a snack; it was fuel. Before the post-war boom, many Americans, especially in the South and Midwest, ate what historians call a “lard-based cuisine”. For farm hands burning 4,000 calories a day or coal miners needing every ounce of energy, this was a lifeline. TikTok creator “Grandadjoe1933,” who lived through the era, confirmed that his family ate these dripping sandwiches “a few times a week during wartime” because there was nothing else available.
So what happened? Two words: the low-fat craze. The war on fat in the 1980s and ’90s turned lard into a dietary villain. Historian Richard Willis perfectly grounds this sandwich in lived experience, recalling that he ate “lard sandwiches while growing up on a farm in Depression-era Iowa.”
The Peanut Butter and Onion/Pickle Sandwich
This one might sound like a late-night dare, but it was a surprisingly common “poor man’s sandwich.” It’s a simple combination of creamy peanut butter, the sharp crunch of finely chopped onion or dill pickles, and often a smear of mayonnaise to hold it all together.
It was a true calorie powerhouse during the Depression. Meat and fresh dairy were luxuries, but peanut butter and mayo offered a cheap, shelf-stable source of protein and fat. A 1940s newspaper article advised readers to add mayonnaise to “moisten” or “thin” the coarse, rustic peanut butter of the day. It was the PB&J’s scrappy, savory cousin.
So why don’t we see it on menus today? The flavor profile is just a bit too “odd” for the modern mainstream. While it still has a cult following online, it’s been completely overshadowed by sweet pairings. Today’s artisanal sandwich shops are more likely to pair peanut butter with fig jam or sliced bananas, rather than raw onions.
The Liverwurst Sandwich
The liverwurst sandwich is a true classic of the deli world. It features a spreadable liver sausage—think of it as pâté’s less-fancy, more approachable cousin—served on rye bread with a sharp mustard and thinly sliced red onion.
This sandwich is a taste of the Old World. It was brought to the U.S. by Central and Eastern European immigrants, especially Germans, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It was an affordable, flavorful, and filling lunch meat that became a staple in cities with large German populations, such as New York and Chicago.
But let’s face it, liverwurst has a major PR problem. As food writer Elise Bauer points out, the name itself—a combination of “liver” and “wurst” (which sounds an awful lot like “worst”)—is a tough sell for modern American ears. A general squeamishness about organ meats compounds this. While the global market for processed meat is growing, projected to reach $519.8 billion by 2033, American consumption has shifted significantly toward poultry and away from products like veal, lamb, and offal.
But it’s not totally dead! A quick search on TikTok or YouTube shows a minor revival, with creators “rediscovering” it, often with modern twists like adding “Cajun two-step” seasoning or frying it in butter.
The Fried Bologna Sandwich
The humble bologna sandwich. For generations, it was a lunchbox staple: a few slices of cold bologna on white bread with mayo. But the fried bologna sandwich was something special—a “poor man’s steak.” Slices were pan-fried until the edges curled and crisped, then served hot, often with melted cheese.
It’s a regional specialty with deep roots in the East, Midwest, Appalachia, and the South. In Pittsburgh, it’s called a “jumbo,” and in Knoxville, it’s lovingly referred to as a “Lonsdale ham” sandwich. Bologna itself is an Americanized version of Italian mortadella, brought over by German immigrants and popularized by brands like Oscar Mayer in the 20th century. It was cheap, versatile, and quintessentially American.
While Americans still buy over 225 million pounds of bologna annually, its image has taken a hit. Health concerns over processed meats, high sodium content, and preservatives like nitrates have led many consumers to seek healthier alternatives.
The Spam Sandwich
Spam. The name alone conjures images of wartime rations and economic hardship. Introduced by Hormel in 1937, this canned pork shoulder became a military staple during World War II, with over 150 million pounds shipped to troops. Its affordability and long shelf life made it a go-to protein source at home as well. A simple Spam sandwich, often fried and served on white bread, was a common meal.
Spam has a fascinatingly dual identity. On the U.S. mainland, it’s often viewed with a kind of ironic nostalgia, a symbol of lean times. Statistics from the 1990s showed that 3.8 cans were consumed every second, but it was often associated with economic hardship. Its popularity has waned as fresh meat became more accessible and health concerns about processed foods grew.
However, in places like Hawaii and Guam, Spam isn’t a relic; it’s a beloved cultural icon. In Guam, the average person eats 16 cans a year. In Hawaii, where it’s affectionately called “Portagee Steak,” residents consume 7 million cans annually, the highest per capita in the U.S. There, it’s a key ingredient in dishes like Spam musubi, a local delicacy sold everywhere from convenience stores to high-end restaurants.
The Sardine and Olive Sandwich
This one, charmingly named the “Sardolive” sandwich in a 1930s recipe book, is a pungent powerhouse. It called for mixing equal parts sardines, chopped olives, and hard-boiled egg yolks, then seasoning it all “highly with lemon juice, salt and paprika”.
Like many Depression-era creations, this sandwich was born of necessity. Canned fish, such as sardines, were affordable, shelf-stable, and rich in protein and calories. An Oakland newspaper ran recipes for both sardine and tuna sandwiches on raisin bread in 1936, cementing their place in the era’s culinary playbook. It was a way to make a filling meal from pantry staples.
So where did it go? Simply put, American tastes have mellowed. While canned tuna remains a lunch counter king, the stronger, oilier flavor of sardines has fallen out of favor in the sandwich world. We’ve moved towards blander, more “crowd-pleasing” proteins.
The Toast Sandwich
Yes, you read that right. The Toast Sandwich is, quite literally, a piece of toast placed between two slices of untoasted bread. The original recipe, which appeared in Mrs. Beeton’s 1861 Book of Household Management, suggests buttering the toast and seasoning it with salt and pepper to taste.
This sandwich is the absolute pinnacle of austerity cuisine. It originated in Victorian England, not as a quirky snack, but as a food for “invalids” or for families who were desperately short on funds. It was a way to add a bit of texture and flavor to plain bread when there was nothing else available. It’s a “carb-on-carb-on-carb” creation born from extreme scarcity.
The Deviled Ham Sandwich
If you grew up in a certain era, you know that little can with the mischievous red devil on the label. Deviled ham, a savory spread made from ground ham, has been a staple in American pantries for a long time. Underwood started producing it way back in 1868, and its devil logo, trademarked in 1870, is the oldest food trademark still in continuous use in the United States.
The sandwich itself is simple: deviled ham, usually mixed with mayonnaise, spread thickly on bread. For generations, especially for those who grew up during or after the Depression, it was a beloved, go-to lunch. The author of one trail cooking blog recalls their father, who grew up in that era, absolutely loving it.
So why has it faded? It’s a story of changing tastes and health perceptions. Deviled ham is intensely salty, a flavor profile that has become less popular as palates have shifted. More importantly, it’s a processed meat product high in sodium, which runs counter to modern health trends that emphasize fresh, minimally processed foods.
The Pimento Aspic Heart Sandwich
Get ready for this one. It’s called the “Open Valentines Sandwich” in a 1936 cookbook, and it is truly a sight to behold. You start by making an aspic—a savory gelatin—from gelatin, chili sauce, mayonnaise, and pimentos. Then, you cut both the wobbly aspic and the bread into heart shapes. Nothing says “I love you” like a jiggly, pimento-flecked meat jelly sandwich, right?
This sandwich is the absolute pinnacle of a forgotten food texture: aspic. It represents the height of the 1930s “domestic science,” a movement that prized presentation, novelty, and “scientific” cooking methods. In an era of thrift, turning cheap ingredients into a fancy-looking, molded creation was a sign of a skilled and resourceful homemaker. Flavor and texture were sometimes a distant second thought.
The decline of this sandwich is directly tied to the fall from grace of savory Jell-O salads and molded meat dishes. Sometime after the 1960s, our collective palate underwent a significant shift away from congealed foods. We developed a preference for fresh, crisp, and natural textures. The idea of a savory, gelatinous spread on bread is now almost universally unappealing. It’s a relic from a time when culinary aesthetics were just… different.
The Peanut and Carrot Sandwich
This sandwich, which the original 1936 recipe book charmingly called “Mysteries,” is another gem from the home economics movement. The instructions are simple: “Chop coarsely equal parts of raw carrots and salted peanuts. Mix with mayonnaise and spread on rounds of bread”.
This creation wasn’t about taste; it was about “scientific” nutrition on a budget. Home economists of the era, working with universities like Cornell, were focused on creating cheap, calorie-dense, and vitamin-rich meals to combat malnutrition. This sandwich was a perfect example: protein and fat from the peanuts and mayo, vitamins from the raw carrots. It was a pragmatic, nutrient-delivery system in sandwich form.
Its downfall is obvious: it just doesn’t sound very good. Today’s food culture is overwhelmingly focused on flavor.
The Lard and Water Sandwich
If you thought the Lard and Sugar sandwich was a sign of tough times, meet its even more desperate cousin: the Water Sandwich. This Depression-era creation, associated with American coal miners, involved soaking bread in a mixture of lard and water. The water helped to stretch the precious lard even further, making a meager meal feel a bit more substantial.
This sandwich is a visceral reminder of a level of food scarcity that is almost unimaginable today. It was often served with something called “Bulldog Gravy,” a simple, grim mixture of milk, flour, and grease. These weren’t recipes designed for enjoyment; they were pure, unadulterated survival tactics. They were the fuel that kept people going when there was literally nothing else to eat.
The reason this sandwich has fallen out of favor is blessedly simple: widespread prosperity. The economic conditions that necessitated watering down fat for sustenance have, for the most part, vanished. The Water Sandwich serves as a stark and important historical marker, a taste of a time when the line between having a meal and having nothing at all was terrifyingly thin. It’s a sandwich we should remember, but never have to eat again.
The Crust Butter Sandwich
This sandwich embodies the “waste not, want not” philosophy that defined the Great Depression. In wealthier households or for fancy tea parties, the crusts were trimmed from sandwiches to create delicate, dainty bites. But what happened to those crusts? In a thrifty home, they became the filling for the next sandwich.
A 1930s recipe instructs the cook to put the trimmed crusts “through the food chopper as soon as trimmed. Mix with salad dressing and creamed butter and spread between other slices of bread, thereby avoiding waste.” Any seasoning could be added to spice it up.
This practice is a direct reflection of the era’s extreme thriftiness. Every single scrap of food had value and had to be used. The decline of the Crust Butter Sandwich is directly linked to the rise of industrial bread production. The invention of the Chorleywood bread process in 1961, along with the subsequent popularity of soft, pre-sliced loaves like Wonder Bread, made crusts less of an issue.
Conclusion
And there you have it. A journey through America’s culinary past, from sandwiches born of sheer necessity and ingenuity to those that reflect a very different set of tastes. We’ve seen the rise of convenience, the fear of fat, and the endless search for the next gourmet experience. We’ve gone from a world of scarcity to one of overwhelming abundance.
So what’s the modern “poor man’s sandwich”? It’s a tricky question. It’s probably not about stretching scraps anymore. Instead, it’s about finding affordable, convenient protein in our incredibly busy lives. Tastewise data shows that online conversations about the classic Club Sandwich are up 14.13%, and even the simple ham sandwich is up 5.72%, both driven by a desire for “snackable” formats that fit into a hectic schedule.
Disclaimer – This list is solely the author’s opinion based on research and publicly available information. It is not intended to be professional advice.
6 Gas Station Chains With Food So Good It’s Worth Driving Out Of Your Way For
6 Gas Station Chains With Food So Good It’s Worth Driving Out Of Your Way For
We scoured the Internet to see what people had to say about gas station food. If you think the only things available are wrinkled hot dogs of indeterminate age and day-glow slushies, we’ve got great, tasty news for you. Whether it ends up being part of a regular routine or your only resource on a long car trip, we have the food info you need.
Let’s look at 6 gas stations that folks can’t get enough of and see what they have for you to eat.
16 Grocery Staples to Stock Up On Before Prices Spike Again
16 Grocery Staples to Stock Up On Before Prices Spike Again
I was in the grocery store the other day, and it hit me—I’m buying the exact same things I always do, but my bill just keeps getting higher. Like, I swear I just blinked, and suddenly eggs are a luxury item. What’s going on?
Inflation, supply-chain delays, and erratic weather conditions have modestly (or, let’s face it, dramatically) pushed the prices of staples ever higher. The USDA reports that food prices climbed an additional 2.9% year over year in May 2025—and that’s after the inflation storm of 2022–2023.
So, if you’ve got room in a pantry, freezer, or even a couple of extra shelves, now might be a good moment to stock up on these staple groceries—before the prices rise later.
