Stuffed Ham Sandwich
Southern Maryland
There’s a reason many St. Mary’s County residents make stuffed ham only for the holidays. It’s an undertaking—requiring a twenty-pound corned ham and a filling (often a secret family recipe) that includes kale or cabbage (or both), onions, and spices. For generations, the dish has been as much a part of family celebrations in Southern Maryland as Thanksgiving turkey. But there is an easier way to taste the tradition: Pick up a stuffed ham sandwich, made leftover-style with layers of ham and stuffing on white bread, at Chaptico Market & Deli.
Chopped Mutton Sandwich
Western Kentucky
As any bourbon lover knows, Kentuckians can work magic with wood and time. That’s how cooks in Daviess County and environs turned a nineteenth-century surplus of aging sheep (wool producers that were past their tender lamb stage) into one of the South’s most distinctive barbecue traditions. Today Western Kentuckians cook mutton low and slow over hickory at church picnics and family gatherings, and the chopped mutton sandwich is a go-to at Owensboro institutions Old Hickory Bar-B-Q (est. 1918) and Moonlite Bar-B-Q Inn (est. 1950 or so).
Colita de Pavo (Turkey Tail) Sandwich
El Paso, Texas
When it comes to turkey tails, most Americans don’t know what they’re missing. It’s standard practice for U.S. meat processors to clip the tails off turkeys and ship them to other countries, including Mexico, where the fatty morsels inspired a borderland tradition. On both sides of the Rio Grande, cooks braise the tails before crisping and chopping them to make a crunchy (and often hot-rod-red) torta filling that has more in common with carnitas than turkey bacon. It’s a signature option at Lonches Juaritos in El Paso, a Juárez-inspired mini-chain.
Lumbee Collard Sandwich
Southeastern North Carolina
At some point, a member of North Carolina’s Lumbee tribe must’ve had an Earl of Sandwich moment. This handheld assembly of tribal staples includes tender braised collards between thin disks of cornbread, with fatback for heft and a spoonful of chowchow or sprinkling of vinegar to tickle the palate. You’ll find the sandwiches for sale at the Robeson County Fair, the annual Lumbee Homecoming, and other events. During collard season, assemble one yourself at Fuller’s Old-Fashioned Bar-B-Q in Fayetteville and Pembroke, which serves the components as part of its buffet.
Livermush Sandwich
Western North Carolina
A relic from an era when everything from rooter to tooter had a purpose on hog-butchering day, the pork-and-cornmeal loaf known as livermush (at least 30 percent liver, by state law) most likely came to North Carolina with German immigrants in the 1700s. Sliced and crisped, it substitutes well for sausage, with a richer flavor and softer texture. While the best liver-mush sandwiches probably come out of home kitchens in Marion or Shelby (the cities host annual festivals devoted to the loaf), you can get a fully loaded version—with onions, mustard, and chili—for five bucks and change at Brooks’ Sandwich House in Charlotte.
Smoked Fish Spread Sandwich
Coastal Florida
An oily, assertive fish, mullet doesn’t dry out in the smoker, which is why it was Old Florida’s choice for smoked fish spreads, flaked and mixed with mayonnaise and seasonings. The spread at the seventy-three-year-old Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish, in St. Petersburg, strikes a balance between mullet and milder mahi-mahi. Served on toasted white or wheat, it beats any supermarket-sourced tuna salad.
Find more in G&G’s Ultimate Guide to Southern Sandwiches here.
