So, we started our sandwich journey. If Dallas was a sandwich, what would it be? More specifically, what is the most iconic sandwich in Dallas?
An icon has to have been around for a while; it needs history and lore. You call it by name. When discussing the most iconic sandwiches in Dallas, it's easy to focus on a few places.
For instance, Cindy's NY Deli is undoubtedly a part of the conversation; the New York-style deli is legendary with larger-than-mouth sandwiches, particularly the Reuben on rye with sauerkraut and Swiss. We anointed the grilled bologna at Cenzo's as the best damn sandwich in Dallas recently, but they're too new to be iconic — their sneakers are still white.
The Great American Hero is shuttered, although it may have been in contention after serving sandwiches from its colorful hut along Lemmon Avenue for almost 50 years. The Great Outdoors opened downtown in 1976, but its oldest standing shop on Belt Line Road closed recently. Weinberger's Deli gets a lot of chatter (and long lines) for its Chicago-style sandwiches, but 1.) It's in Grapevine, and 2.) It's in Grapevine. Even if it was in Dallas, it's a Chicago spot.
So, we'll get to it: Jimmy's has to be the place. The small bodega in East Dallas opened in 1966, and the building itself was built in the '20s. In 2025, it's struggling not to get swallowed by gentrification like Jaws going after Quint. Yet, this Italian grocery store and meat market with a fantastic niche wine collection perseveres.
Jimmy's has a sandwich counter at the back of the store stuffed with meats, cheese, and various fun accouterments. You can have a glass of wine while you shop, and you should. The spot is old and gritty, and everyone loves it. Recently, I asked what their most popular sandwich is, and the guy at the counter said, "The Italian beef." I said I'd have two with extra gravy because that's how the guy in front of me ordered his.
The deli at the back of Jimmy's serves meats by the pound and a steady stream of sandwiches.
Lauren Drewes Daniels
DiCarlo explained that the Italian beef sandwich isn't really their sandwich: all of the ingredients are shipped in from Chicago, and they just put it together. It's a Vienna Beef sandwich — a Chicago sandwich. He pointed me toward their meatball and Italian sausage sandwiches because, he said, "We make those."
So, I went back to Jimmy's. I parked a block away in front of new, homogenized apartments lacking character and charm and walked into Jimmy's Food Store, which has both. I ordered a sausage sandwich.
When the DiCarlo family opened Jimmy's in the '60s, it was just a basic grocery store with staples Mom and Dad needed to put dinner on the table and keep the wash going. The DiCarlo family made sausage only during the holidays for family meals, but as this article, "How Jimmy's Conquered Dallas" from Scott Reitz, lays out, after some cajoling from an Italian restaurant, they rebranded as an Italian grocery in 1997, focusing on the family's Sicilian roots.
Since then, they've been selling obscure Italian groceries, meats, cheese and wine. They've also allotted much more space for grinding pork shoulder into sausage imbued with a secret blend of spices and peddling it all around Dallas. Customers buy it by the boatload. Restaurants bank on it: "They use Jimmy's" might be the most legitimizing term in Dallas hospitality.
Longtime foodies and pizza junkies can spot it atop a pizza from across the room: the sausage structure is unique. It's tall and lumpy, not flat nor finely ground. The fennel seed, red pepper, touch of citrus and cloves are unmistakable.
The spicy Italian sausage hoagie ($9.99) comes with slices of the famous links and is topped with peppers, cheese and a wee bit of red sauce. Biting into the sausage sandwich, I realized Paul was right about the most iconic Dallas sandwich: The Italian beef, while excellent, is not, the most iconic sandwich in Dallas. The sausage is because you taste dozens of other dishes, pizzas and pastas you've had around Dallas for more than two decades. This is the taste of Dallas.
Pro-tip: Eat this sandwich hot. Since there aren't tables at Jimmy's, this means in the car or after a short trip. (Put a towel in the car because this sandwich isn't built for tidiness.) Once it's cooled, the cheese loses its gooeyness and the sandwich isn't quite the same experience. Also, if you're in a hurry, call it in. Everything is made to order and it can take 15 minutes or so to get a sandwich, and longer at lunchtime, which is great for perusing the aisles.
