Every corner of America tells a story through food. Some sandwiches become household names while others remain hidden treasures. These six creations stay rooted in their home regions, cherished by locals but unknown to most Americans.
They’re not trying to go viral. These sandwiches exist because communities needed them, loved them, and kept making them for generations.
The Horseshoe Sandwich From Springfield, Illinois
This open-faced creation from Springfield, Illinois features thick-sliced toasted bread (often Texas toast), a hamburger patty or other choice of meat, French fries, and cheese sauce. In 1928, chef Joe Schweska created this at the Leland Hotel, inspired by his wife Elizabeth’s Welsh rarebit recipe, using a horseshoe-cut of ham with potato wedges arranged as nails. Some versions now boast as many as 2,700 calories. The sandwich is an overwhelming meal, which is why most restaurants offer a half-sized version called a pony shoe.
Unlike the corn dog, which was also invented in Springfield but is now served at every state fair, the horseshoe has remained a regional curiosity. Indigenous to Springfield, it is eaten only in the state capital and its hinterlands, with every genuine Springfield bar and grill serving a ‘shoe.
Chow Chow on Everything in Appalachia
Made primarily of chopped green tomatoes, onions, cabbage, and seasonal peppers, chow-chow is a pickled relish eaten by itself or as a condiment on fish cakes, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, pinto beans, hot dogs, hamburgers and other foods. These leftover veggies from the garden create the Appalachian specialty known as chow chow, which became popular among mountain families in the late nineteenth century.
Each recipe varies from farm to farm, kitchen to kitchen, often determined by the crops in abundance at the end of the growing season, with ingredients sometimes considered the garden’s leftovers. Typically, a chow chow recipe calls for five to 12 vegetables, including celery, hot peppers, green beans, lima beans, tomatoes, apples, corn and more. It’s way more than just a relish. It’s resourcefulness preserved in a jar.
Beef on Weck in Buffalo, New York
A beef on weck is a sandwich found primarily in Western New York State, made with roast beef on a kummelweck roll topped with kosher salt and caraway seeds, with meat traditionally served rare and thin cut. It is believed that a German baker named William Wahr, who immigrated from the Black Forest region of Germany, created the kummelweck roll while living in Buffalo. The sandwich, along with Buffalo wings and sponge candy, is one of the three best-known food specialties of Buffalo.
The dish pairs thinly sliced roast beef with a kummelweck roll, a crusty bun topped with coarse salt and caraway seeds, with roots tracing back to German immigrants and baker William Wahr in the mid-19th century. Buffalo-area bakeries are the only commercial source for the roll.
Breaded Pork Tenderloin Sandwich From Indiana
The pork tenderloin sandwich contains a breaded and fried cutlet similar to Wiener schnitzel and is popular in the Midwest, especially in Indiana, Illinois, Nebraska, Missouri, and Iowa, with the sandwich claimed to have originated at Nick’s Kitchen restaurant in Huntington, Indiana. Nick’s Kitchen dates to 1908 when Nick Freienstein opened a restaurant, and as the son of German immigrants, he created a variation of the Viennese Wiener schnitzel using thin, tenderized cuts that are breaded and fried.
Indiana senators voted in January 2026 to advance a bill naming the breaded pork tenderloin the Hoosier State sandwich, with Senate Bill 21 passing the chamber 37-11. The tell-tale sign is that the meat is going to be way bigger than the bun, with locals saying the bun on a breaded pork tenderloin sandwich looks like a little hat. Pork tenderloin is pounded extremely thin, coated in crackers or breadcrumbs and fried, resulting in an ultra-savory cut often much wider than the bun.
The Loose Meat Sandwich From Iowa
Iowa quietly claims one of the most divisive sandwiches in the Midwest. The loose meat sandwich looks deceptively simple: unseasoned ground beef, steamed not fried, piled on a bun with mustard, onions, and pickles. According to recent estimates, US consumers consume approximately 300 million sandwiches daily in restaurants. Yet the loose meat sandwich stays firmly planted in Iowa taverns and diners, especially at Maid-Rite locations throughout the state.
It doesn’t try to be a sloppy joe. There’s no sauce, no tomato base, nothing to hold the meat together except hope and careful eating technique. The crumbly texture throws off first-timers. Locals defend it fiercely, insisting the simplicity lets the beef flavor shine through without distraction.
Italian Beef Sandwich From Chicago
In Chicago, the Italian beef is a rite of passage, with paper-thin slices of slow-roasted beef piled high onto a crusty Italian roll, then doused in savory, aromatic jus, creating a balance of tender beef, chewy bread, and satisfying sogginess. The sandwich traces back to Italian immigrants in the early 20th century who worked in stockyards, using inexpensive cuts of beef they slow-cooked, sliced thin to stretch portions, and dunked in juices, quickly becoming a staple at weddings, banquets, and street stands.
Today, customization is key, with orders for Italian beef coming “sweet” with roasted peppers, “hot” with giardiniera, or “combo” with Italian sausage tucked inside. You’ll meet the Italian beef in Chicago, a dripping, beef-laden sandwich that could never be replicated in any chain shop outside city limits. The wet, messy glory of a properly dipped Italian beef is something you can’t fake outside the city that invented it.
These sandwiches stick around because they matter to the people who make them. They’re not chasing national fame or franchise deals. They’re just doing what they’ve always done, feeding their communities one gloriously regional bite at a time. Have you tried any of these hidden gems, or are you ready to plan a road trip to taste what you’ve been missing?
