“All of humankind has one thing in common: the sandwich. I believe that all anyone really wants in this life is to sit in peace and eat a sandwich.”

I don’t disagree with Liz Lemon. There are few things more comforting to me than layers of wafer-thin mortadella packed into a soft panino with crunchy crust, or a chicken sandwich (I’ll take fried, roasted or poached) with fresh iceberg and creamy mayo. They’re timeless classics, like 15-year-old 30 Rock quotes.

So I’m happy to be living in the time of Melbourne’s Great Sandwich Boom. Broadsheet even declared 2023 the year of the sandwich. “Grain bowls are not a lunch for trying times,” we noted. “No, in years like 2023 we wanted comfort for lunch. We wanted sandwiches. And boy, did we get them.”

In 2024, that swell feels more like a tidal wave, as sandwich shops come even thicker and faster with varying presentations of mortadella and stracciatella panini, chicken salad sandwiches, Filet-o-Fish-inspired numbers and more. In the first six months of this year Broadsheet Melbourne published 16 articles about new sanga spots – a number that’s far from comprehensive.

Are we nearing saturation point?

“One hundred per cent, there are too many,” says Stef Condello of Collingwood’s Italian-Australian sandwich shop Stefanino Panino, which first opened in Brunswick East in 2022. “But people are smart. They know if it’s a good one or a real one or if it’s someone cosplaying as a Bear-type character.

“Crazes come and go. The [sandwich shops] that aren’t aligned to the ‘craze’ nature of it are the ones that will be around in the end. Fortunately I got in when I got in. If it was 12 months later … I’d probably be doing something else.”

Dom Wilton of perennially popular Hector’s Deli, which opened its first store in 2017, thinks the issue is not about quantity, but quality and intent. “Sandwiches are almost so perfectly boring, and to suggest we could reach peak sandwich is bullshit. What we’ll do is reach peak stupidly over-conceptualised versions of a sandwich shop,” he tells Broadsheet.

“We don’t look at pizza shops and say, ‘Are there too many?’. We don’t look at kebab shops and say, ‘Are there too many?’ We don’t look at fish and chip shops and say, ‘Are there too many?’”

There were sandwiches in Melbourne long before Hector’s Deli, but Wilton’s small but expanding empire can take a lot of credit for the city’s current scene. The founders came from the kitchens at two of the best restaurants in Australia, Attica and Stokehouse, and brought a fine-dining obsessiveness and attention to detail to a category previously dominated by relative novices.

Other credentialled chefs have followed suit, most notably Tom Peasnell with Nico’s in 2020. We’re effectively seeing a replay of the 2012 burger renaissance, which kicked off with a fine dining team founding Huxtaburger and led to household names like Neil Perry and Shannon Bennett starting their own chains.

The difference now is a scene of far more breadth and variety: there are Italian-American sandwiches at Jollygood Junior and Saul’s; European deli creations at Juniper and Zita’s Focaccia; and Asian takes at places like Raya and Le Bajo Milkbar, where you’ll find glazed Spam and kaya toast, or shokupan rolls filled with prawn katsu and spicy tako octopus katsu, respectively. And while banh mi shops have long been part of the city’s DNA, Anchovy chef Thi Le took them to the next level when she opened Ca Com, a feat later matched by Nam Nguyen at Good Days Hot Bread Shop.

Barry Susanto, a former Navi sous-chef, left fine dining and opened Warkop, a sandwich shop inspired by his Indonesian heritage, with fillings like gado gado, rendang and sambal ijo. He believes there’s a misconception about the ease of running a sandwich shop, but does think it provides better work-life balance than other hospitality venues.

“Every type of business model in hospitality is struggling in some way at the moment. The advantage when you run a sandwich shop is you and your team start your day very early and finish around 4pm – physically, in the shop, at least. After that you can go about your personal life at home. It’s important to look after everyone’s mental health and wellbeing. When you have a healthier working environment, I think it’s better for everyone – including the customer experience.”

It’s not like sandwiches are turning huge profits, says Condello. “The margins on sandwiches are quite slim. You need to sell a volume to make any money. If you’re making $5, $6, $7 a sandwich, you need to sell 100 just to pay for wages for that day, and that’s not considering cost of goods or rent or your own wage.

“If you’re using quality produce and paying staff properly and paying super and things like that, it’s just as challenging [as running a restaurant]. However, you are getting the turnover of customers coming in because of the lower pricepoint. The challenge is to make the offering unique and be valuable for the customer – it has to be experience and food.”

The sandwich surge isn’t just happening in Melbourne, of course. Sandwiches are having a moment all over the country, with shops from Good Way’s Deli in Sydney to Pinco Deli in Adelaide.

To repeat the point: putting things between bread is nothing new. From ham and cheese in Wonder White to crunchy banh mi, it’s long been a quick, portable and relatively inexpensive way to eat in Australia. But why are so many local operators suddenly making it their sole focus? It could be The Bear factor. It could be the pandemic-era shift towards takeaway. It could be the current demand for comfort and affordability. Or it could be a combination of all that.

“Sandwich shops became popular during Covid, when we all needed a treat and most people were working from home and we could get them to take away,” says Juliet Valentine, who runs an Instagram account – The Sandwich Report – dedicated to her favourites. “A lot of people still work from home and even though the cost of living is ridiculous and sandwich prices are quite high (almost up to, if not $20 per sandwich) it’s still an accessible pricepoint for someone to feel like they’re treating themselves to something nice.”

It plays into the “lipstick effect”, a theory that suggests consumers are more likely to buy little luxuries or mood boosters like lipstick or, well, sandwiches, in times of economic hardship.

“The sandwich space allows people who can’t afford mortgages to align themselves with something that feels cool and relevant … it’s for the people,” says Wilton. “No one can afford space, this generation of people have to make the restaurant scene or the street their backyard.

“It’s subconsciously why Hector’s puts so much into fit-outs – you’re not just enjoying a sandwich but you’re renting a momentary space ... It makes you feel part of something.”

“A sandwich shop in Melbourne is like a bakery or a cafe,” says Valentine. “Sandwiches, like coffee, are now synonymous with this city.”