I Tried the Roast Beef Subs From 5 Popular Chains & the Best Was Meltingly Tender
From Firehouse Subs and Potbelly Sandwich Works to Jimmy's Johns and Jersey Mike's, I've taste-tested many sandwiches from many popular chains. Admittedly, though, I've never been much of a roast beef fan.
Growing up, whenever we'd get subs from our local New Hampshire sandwich shop, I would always order turkey, while my brother typically ordered roast beef. For whatever reason, it always repulsed me. Of all the ways to prepare and serve beef, it just seemed like the least appealing, and I could never shake the notion that it's just flimsy, floppy, flesh-toned meat. But I'll also admit that since attending culinary school—and eating my way through various other sandwiches—I've come a long way with my preconceived notions.
Though roast beef has always been a blind spot, I'm willing to learn and grow. And, much to my (mostly) pleasant surprise, I've found that these sandwiches can be downright delicious. I recently sampled the roast beef sandwiches from five popular chains, ranging from all-around deli authorities like Jersey Mike's and Potbelly to the roast beef specialists at Arby's. The results were as eye-opening as they were shocking.
Here's how each chain ranked in descending order from my least favorite to the overall best.
McAlister's Deli
Horseradish Roast Beef & Cheddar (Per 1 Sandwich)
Calories: 740
Fat: 32 g (Saturated Fat: 10 g)
Sodium: 2,210 mg
Carbs: 70 g (Fiber: 2 g, Sugar: 8 g)
Protein: 45 g
I was thoroughly dismayed by the results of my first ever trip to McAlister's Deli, a chain I had previously heard nothing but praise for—and one that has a shiny reputation for its high-quality ingredients. Those top-notch components were undermined by poor execution, leading to a lackluster showing for the chain's Horseradish Roast Beef and Cheddar. Made with Black Angus roast beef, sharp cheddar, red onion, and horseradish sauce on toasted ciabatta, this sandwich cost me $9.79.
The look: The most shocking thing of all is how misleadingly delicious this thing looked. Upon unwrapping this bulky beast, my initial reactions involved things like "wow," "amazing," and "I'm salivating." After all, this was by far the heftiest and meatiest sandwich of the tasting, with what looked like the largest amount of slivered roast beef. The "toasted" ciabatta didn't look all that toasted, nor did it smell the part. Still, I had high hopes.
The taste: Said hopes quickly deflated upon first bite. It may look meaty and rich, but it tasted anything but. Despite the immensity of the meat, it mostly tasted like salt. The bread? Boring, bland, and decidedly not toasted. The red onion? Inexplicable and distracting. The sharp cheddar? Seemingly nonexistent. The horseradish sauce? Ditto. This was a salt bomb on boring, beige bread. I wanted so badly to love this, but I couldn't excuse it.
Potbelly
Steakhouse Beef (Per 1 Sandwich)
Calories: 790
Fat: 38 g (Saturated Fat: 16 g)
Sodium: 1,770 mg
Carbs: 65 g (Fiber: 4 g, Sugar: 5 g)
Protein: 49 g
Oh, Potbelly. I keep trying and wanting to like you, but you make it so hard. The Chicago-based chain is one of the fast-growing sandwich shops in the country, but based on the results of my recent meatball subs taste test, quantity does not equate to quality. Once again, here I am, disappointed by a Potbelly sandwich. In this case, it was the Steakhouse Beef, a tasty-sounding medley of Angus roast beef, crumbled blue cheese, provolone, and horseradish aïoli. This sub cost me $9.59.
The look: I mean, sure, it's meaty! It looks like good quality! The roast beef appears succulent, and the cut is thicker than the rest of the sandwiches I tried. The bread was, in fact, quite clearly toasted, and the whole thing smelled pretty great. I couldn't discern much on the sandwich beyond the roast beef, but considering how good—and how freshly cut—the meat looked, I wasn't complaining. No, I saved the complaining for the flavor part of this equation.
The taste: To put it bluntly, this is just a blue cheese sandwich and nothing more. I was absolutely gobsmacked by the intensity of the blue cheese flavor, which utterly overwhelmed every other component of the sandwich, including the front-and-center ingredient, roast beef. I say this as a fan of blue cheese, too. The meat may have been fresh and delicious, but it was hard to tell under the pungent cheese, which totally drowned it out. The bread tasted toasty, warm, and decent, but again, it can't really make much an impression when weighed against the funky blue. The provolone and horseradish, too, didn't come through literally at all. Such a waste of roast beef that, quite clearly, was high-quality.
Jimmy John's
Big John (Per 1 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
At Jimmy John's, I opted for the Big John, a somewhat straightforward combo of roast beef, lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Landing squarely in the middle of the taste test, suffice to say that it wasn't the worst, but it wasn't wowing me, either. It's roast beef mediocrity at its meatiest. This sub cost me $7.49.
The look: Based on looks alone, this likely would have wound up at the bottom of this list, based on its paltry-looking presentation and skimpy portion size. How ironic, considering its name is Big John! Mostly, it echoed my lifelong stereotypes of roast beef sandwiches as sad and flimsy, with some limp flaps of beef slumped over the edges of a long, pale-colored roll. It's not a pretty picture.
The taste: An improvement, if not a colossal one. I will say that at least this didn't taste as flimsy and meager as it looked, and it certainly wasn't overpowered by things like blue cheese or salt. On the contrary, my main issue was that this was a little too bland and one-note. The lettuce, tomato, and mayo seemed like unnecessary elements that added nothing, but the bread was at least a solid rendition for a sub sandwich, and the meat itself was sufficiently tender. I could have used quite a bit more flavor from the beef, but it was definitely an upgrade from the weird flavor bombs that fell shorter on this list.
Jersey Mike's
Club Supreme (Per 1 Regular Sub)
Calories: 1,140
Fat: 76.08 g (Saturated Fat: 16.14 g)
Sodium: 1,977.51 mg
Carbs: 58.41 g (Fiber: 4.3 g, Sugar: 6.83 g)
Protein: 57.20 g
After a ho-hum showing so far, it was time to go big. Or at least, try. The Club Supreme from Jersey Mike's had a lot of potential, considering its meaty melee of roast beef, turkey, Swiss, applewood-smoked bacon, and mayo. It's a mouthful, in more ways than one, and I had my hesitations, but this bold offering wound up impressing me way more than I expected. Plus, the fact that the chain is skyrocketing in popularity has to bode well, right? This sub cost me $12.09.
The look: True to its name, this thing looked pretty supreme in the sense that it was super meaty and robust, nearly as much as the McAlister's Deli offering. Even so, the roast beef was probably the least visually appetizing component of the sandwich, more closely resembling overcooked hamburger meat. Everything else, from the fresh turkey and creamy mayo to the slivers of smoky bacon, helped to improve the overall average. And in general, this overstuffed sandwich was also quite appetizing in all its heft.
The taste: Even better than it looked, the roast beef club managed to distinguish itself from the fray with a unique flavor portfolio that, for the most part, worked well. Again, the roast beef was somewhat the most muted aspect of the sandwich, but at least it didn't taste like overcooked burger meat. And it melded well with the succulent slices of turkey, the mayo, the Swiss cheese, and the peppery bacon. Nothing was too overwhelming, and nothing clashed. The bread was a little too thick for my taste, and threatened to overpower the rest of the ingredients, but altogether, I was pleased with the harmony happening here. Still, there was one roast beef sandwich that I liked even more.
Arby's
Classic Roast Beef (Per 1 Sandwich)
Calories: 360
Fat: 14 g (Saturated Fat: 5 g)
Sodium: 970 mg
Carbs: 37 g (Fiber: 2 g, Sugar: 5 g)
Protein: 23 g
The biggest shocker of the entire taste test was my reaction to Arby's Classic Roast Beef. Admittedly, I'm an Arby's neophyte. Maybe it's a general aversion to a chain that gets sued over the quality of its meat, or maybe it's the fact that curly fries are my least favorite way to utilize potatoes. Realistically, though, it's just that, as someone who thought he hated roast beef all his life, I just had zero interest in visiting a chain that focuses on the deli meat. Color me pleasantly surprised, then, to discover that the frills-free Classic Roast Beef is well worth the fanfare I had avoided all my life. The sandwich cost me $4.99.
The look: Super simple to the point of near-laziness, but I was intrigued by the fluffy sesame seed bun. The meat, too, looked way more succulent (and ample) than I could have imagined. Much to my shock, I was excited to dig in.
The taste: Indeed, this thing blew me away. It's not the most amazing thing I've had from a fast-food chain, to be sure, but it is one of the more pleasant surprises I've sampled of late. The meat, while a bit on the salty side, was absolutely meltingly tender, with a texture that ran miles around the rest of the contenders here. I ordered it with sides of Arby's Sauce and Horsey Sauce, and although it tasted great with both, it didn't need them, either. The bun also tasted as good as it looked, providing the perfect fluffy counterpart to all those layers of juicy roast beef.
I'm not saying I'm going to become an Arby's regular, but after further investigation, I'm certainly a believer.