A collage of seven sandwiches on a brown background with decorative flowers and lines, each sandwich filled with various meats, cheeses, vegetables, and greens.
Seven of Wellington’s best sandos.

WellingtonSeptember 5, 2025

Seven Wellington sandwiches you need to eat (right now)

A collage of seven sandwiches on a brown background with decorative flowers and lines, each sandwich filled with various meats, cheeses, vegetables, and greens.
Seven of Wellington’s best sandos.

Pōneke’s sandwich makers are quietly perfecting the form, even as the internet tries to ruin it.

I know it’s probably not cool anymore, but I still really like sandwiches. It’s true they have been having their moment for quite some time now, and of course, they have always had a huge part to play in the history of food. But with the advent of social media, and with clicks and views becoming hard currency, the sandwich mutated into something quite different. Something entirely more visual and potentially quite grotesque and unlikeable.

You may recognise the trend that I am referencing: a Reel or TikTok of a man (or group of men) staring wide-eyed in disbelief at a sandwich with an almost cartoonish number of ingredients. Announcing confidently to the camera that “THIS is the new viral sandwich sensation that everyone wants to get their hands on.” The sandwich he holds up is layered colourfully to create mass visual appeal, with all the ingredients stacked heavily on the slice line in a way that would render the whole thing logistically impossible to eat in real life. 

Luckily for us, we Wellingtonians are a bit more savvy than all of that nonsense, and that trend never really caught on. Instead, we have a culture of real sandwiches. Assembled with care and attention by teams that know that beauty lies not in the looking, but rather in the eating. I genuinely believe the sandwich culture in this city is light-years ahead of the rest of the world. We practise restraint where others seek opulence; ours are elegant, whereas others are garish.

Disclaimer: The Spinoff has published lists of sandwiches before, and this one is as flawed as any you will find. These are not empirically the best sandwiches in the city, but they are my favourites, and that is all I can speak to. I have not included any that have previously been mentioned by Bryer Oden in her important contribution to the field. Come at me in the comments if you must. 

The Raging Bulls – Bulls Deli Sub

A large sandwich on a hoagie roll with layers of sliced deli meat, lettuce, and tomato, resting on paper with printed text, against a plain light-colored background.
Deli Sub from The Raging Bulls

Seif Al Din is a man who visited the USA in 2018 and became obsessed with the idea of smoking and curing his own meats. Fast forward to 2025, and The Raging Bulls is now his own tiny little shop in Newlands that is doing just that.

The deli meat sub is one of the world’s best sandwiches, different cold cuts all layered up in a long roll with some salad and cheese. His version is up there with the greats, with all the meats being cured and smoked in-house. First up comes a beef mortadella, a variation on the world’s best processed meat, filled with tiny pockets of fat and rich with spices. Next is the basturma, an air-dried beef cut thin to the point of translucency. Finally, a pastrami with a bark brimming with sweet smoke and peppery heat. These are layered up in a soft roll with melted cheese, lettuce, pickles, wholegrain mustard and the occasional hit from sundried tomatoes.

Too often, deli rolls can feel extravagant and overblown with the amount of meat, but here it is restrained. Each of the fillings is given space and time to occur and be present. It is a very special sandwich by any metric, and even more amazing that every last piece of meat has been hand-made by Seif and his team here in Pōneke. 

Newday Coffee – Ham and cheese salad

A close-up of a hand holding a sandwich cut in half, showing layers of lettuce, ham, cheese, egg, pickles, mayonnaise, and soft bread. Sunlight highlights the fresh ingredients.
Ham and cheese sandwich from Newday. Photo: Nick Iles

This sandwich is the one I have eaten more than any other on this list. True, it is very close to my house, but there is more to it than that. This is not just any sandwich; it is the sandwich. While some of the others may be fancier, this one is all about safety and comfort and home.

The focaccia comes from the very clever people at Volco and is about as good as it gets. Then two types of cheese: an aged Kāpti cheddar that crumbles and has that slight crunch from a saline crust, and a Swiss cheese that is nutty and full of holes. There is free-range ham that has been concertinaed in the way all good wafer-thin ham should be, and there are bread and butter pickles and a fistful of lettuce to offset all of that fattiness. All of the greatest sandwiches have two wet components, and here it is a mild yellow mustard and an aioli enriched with dill.

I think if you were to ask a child to draw a perfect sandwich, then this is what they would do. And they would be absolutely correct, because this is the sandwich. 

Fred’s Sandwiches – Fried egg, cheese, rocket, chilli sauce, peanuts, mayo on a soft bun 

Fred’s fried egg roll. Photo: Nick Iles

To be honest, any of the sandwiches from Fred’s could be on this list, and the one I really wanted to include was a special that only lasted a week – hot chips dusted with chicken salt on white bread that had been liberally spread with roasted shallot butter and doused in gravy, provolone cheese and a malt vinegar mayo. I think about it most weeks, and I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. But it is gone.

However, there is a sandwich available every single day before 11:30, that we all need on those tricky, dusty mornings. On an outrageously soft bun comes a fried egg that is a masterclass in frying eggs – the edges lacy and frilly while the yolk remains soft but not runny. The internet has fetishised the runny egg sandwiches, but in reality, it is unworkable and only for poseurs who still use hashtags. There is a fiery, crispy chilli oil, a salty cheese slice and a fistful of rocket to make you feel good about yourself. A thick squeeze of mayo is a cheat’s hollandaise, and the whole thing will have you up and about in no time at all. A perfect way to start any day.

Bongusto – Chicken Schnitzel Focaccia

A close-up of a sandwich cut in half, stacked, and filled with breaded meat, lettuce, and sauce on airy focaccia bread, placed on a white plate with utensils and a bottle in the blurred background.
Chicken Schnitzel sandwich from Bonqusto. Photo: Nick Iles

The internet has a lot to answer for in this modern world, and one of the more serious misdeeds is the slow erasure of regional focaccia variations and the promotion of the visually appealing Puglian example. You know the one, jiggling away in its tray with ginormous bubbles crowning outwards as fingers dimple deep in the tray. At Bongusto, they specialise in the much thinner and crispier focaccia Genovese, which is pulled thin on the large baking trays and drenched in oil and salt before baking. It is an almost unbeatable vehicle for fillings.

Bongusto has a few different sandwiches each day, but the chicken schnitzel sells out the quickest, and it is not hard to see why. Chicken is battered thin and breaded before frying, the middle stays so very moist whilst the extremities turn glass-like. The only garnish is some thickly veined romaine lettuce for texture and a thin mayonnaise. You don’t need any more, for the bread has oil and salt, and the chicken has everything else. It is the antidote to internet sandwiches and the cult of aesthetics. Everything here is truly in the tasting. 

Good Grief Bakery – Mortadella, hot honey, blue cheese, rocket, olives

A close-up of a sandwich with fluffy bread, slices of deli meat, and fresh arugula, resting on white paper outdoors in bright sunlight.
Mortadella, blue cheese and hot honey sandwich from Good Grief. Photo: Nick Iles.

There is something particularly pleasing about a sandwich at a good bakery, knowing that every single element has been crafted from the bread up. This is never more true than at Good Grief, the newest offshoot from the wonderful people at Goods over in Thorndon.

The focaccia here billows in a way that is almost obscene, the top crisp and oily as only the best focaccias do, while the middle is filled with huge pockets and chew. First, blue cheese is spread liberally in place of butter, a move I will now be copying on a regular basis, and studded with plump buttery nocellara olives. Next comes mortadella, the single best processed meat in the world (fact), which has been folded generously and covered in an appropriate amount of hot honey and some rocket to finish. It shouldn’t work really, all this fatty cheese, oil and ham. But somehow, quite remarkably, it just does. 

Amuse Snack Bar – Salmon and cream cheese

A sandwich made with seeded whole grain bread, filled with cream cheese, leafy greens, tomato slices, and possibly smoked salmon, sits on crumpled white paper on a reddish-brown surface.
Salmon and cream cheese sandwich from Amuse Snack Bar. Photo: Nick Iles

The single best sandwich in the city (well, there are many best sandwiches. I guess it depends how I am feeling) is the jambon beurre at Amuse snack bar on Willis, but I have already dedicated an entire article to that place and that sandwich. Luckily, the good work Dori Raphael is doing at Amuse is seemingly unending, and the beetroot-cured salmon and cream cheese on malt and seed sourdough is nothing short of majestic.

The bread is made in-house and is cut into doorstop wedges, the crust burnished to a dark brown that holds the exact correct texture for a sandwich as soft as this. Salmon is cured in-house, and its exterior is a rich purple from the cure, which fades down to burnt orange in the middle. It is all things sweet and fatty, and unctuous. This is exactly how good salmon should be treated. Cream cheese is spread with a generosity that courses through everything they do at Amuse, and shredded kale finishes off the sandwich with verdancy and hints at crunch. This is not an innovation – this is a sandwich all about simplicity done totally and utterly right. 

Customs – Egg salad, togarashi, pecorino, radish & alfalfa

A close-up of a thick sandwich on rustic bread, filled with scrambled eggs, cheese, chives, and turkey, served on a white plate with sunlight highlighting its texture.
Egg Salad Sandwich from Customs. Photo: Nick Iles

Egg salad is one of the primary sandwiches. It is a foundational platform on which to play and do all manner of enjoyable things. At Customs, they take that childhood memory of the egg sandwich and bring it right up to date to meet your adult self. Eggs are cooked gently so that the yolks remain bright, fudgy and slightly translucent. Bound in Japanese mayo, it feels quite luxurious, with the paper-thin radishes and alfalfa bringing texture and a fine pepperiness. Pecorino is subtle and seasons everything, while the addition of the togarashi (a Japanese seasoning blend usually consisting of ground chilli pepper, orange peel, sesame seeds, seaweed, ginger, and Japanese pepper) flips everything on its head and adds sweet, subtle heat. It is time travel, tradition and modernity all between two slices of toasted focaccia.