Anirudh Suresan

What’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, you ask? Surely it was when John Montagu, Earl of Sandwich, decided to slap some meat between the aforementioned slices a few centuries ago, and create…you guessed it, a sandwich. Over the last couple of years, Delhi’s been seeing a new dawn of sandwich shops cropping up, and the denizens of the city have taken to it like, well, butter to a piece of crisp golden toast. Being a self-professed sandwich fiend, I’ve put together a guide on the best finds around town. Surprisingly, some of the older places pack as much (or more) of a punch as the newer, slicker shops.   

Novelty’s the kind of outlet that could survive an apocalypse. It’s doggedly refused all overtures of fancy interiors, menu upgrades and modernisation, and has remained largely unchanged for the almost seventy years since it opened doors in the bylanes of Jangpura. It’s a nondescript little affair, with a white board announcing its name – at first glance, you’d be fooled into thinking it’s a grocery store.Past the sliding door, you’re confronted with the sight of a long granite counter, and a bunch of bar stools neatly in place. There’s a small whiteboard with a ‘Thought For The Day’ scribbled on it, and at the very end of the counter’s a small window, through which hot grilled sandwiches are bundled out with astonishing frequency.  Novelty remains a novelty (forgive that ghastly turn of phrase) because of its simplicity. No ciabatta or prosciutto here – you get one filling per sandwich, but you won’t miss the extravagance of overloaded sandos here. Fillings range from tuna to pork ham to chicken salami to veggies to the humble grilled cheese, and you get to decide what bread you want with it (white, brown or multigrain), and if you want it toasted or not. You get ketchup on the side, with a generous serving of homemade coriander and mint chutney, ladled directly from a small metal bucket onto your plate. Each sandwich’s heavily doused with mayonnaise, and you’re supposed to wash down the whole affair with a bottle of their cold coffee, made – you guessed it – in-house too. T

Dumbo’s one of the more recent entrants on the block when it comes to the bougie sandwich scene in Delhi, but god, does it do the job well. A testament to this fact, undeniably, is in the long lines that formed outside the shop for the several months after it opened in the posh Meharchand Market in Lodhi Colony, resulting in a total sell-out a mere three hours into operations. The sandwiches were, and are, just that good.This, in full, is thanks to the owners’ staunch commitment to quality over quantity, which is why only 50 pieces of each sandwich are sold in a day. Even before operations began, they were serious about being the best in Delhi – a chef from Florence’s All’Antico Vinaio (often touted to be the best sandwich shop in the world) was flown into town for a month to teach the staff the art of making the oh-so-delicate schiacciata bread – the airier, lighter cousin of the now-humbled focaccia. The tomatoes are canned in Italy, with large tins adorning the ledges in the kitchen. There’s also a large glass-topped counter holding all the fillings they use, so you can see how fresh everything is – rocket leaves, chicken mortadella, whole black truffles, pistachio cremas, spicy nduja spreads.    The sandos are expensive, undoubtedly so, but because there’s no rival in Delhi when it comes to quality (or size), you don’t entirely mind forking out a heftier sum than usual. The Viola is slathered with incredible nduja meat, fresh creamy burrata, crisp baby arugula and slices

In an unassuming corner of Greater Kailash II’s tiny Chandan Market, once home to only the neighbourhood chemist and samosa-seller, stands the bright red storefront bearing the name Kona. The name means ‘corner’ in Hindi and ‘flour’ in Japanese, and as far as wordplay goes, it’s bang-on for an Asian-leaning sando shop in Delhi. Kona is the brainchild of chef Radhika Khandelwal, who helmed the wildly popular Fig and Maple in Greater Kailash II’s M-Block Market for years. Inside, it’s tiny, with only four bar stools for seating and a bustling kitchen, which is always scurrying with activity. The sandwiches, each served between bread that best suits it, are all named after puns on popular songs. There’s the Stand Bahn-Mi, with spiced grilled pork, pickled veggies and some Vietnamese inspired sauces, all packed together tightly in a lovely French baguette, or the Fry Me To The Moon, that’s got a hefty chicken thigh fried to perfection and packed in between soft shokupan slices with kimchi and mustard. The Bello Ciao has a stuffed and grilled portobello that’s packed between soft Japanese milk bread and is a runaway hit among the vegetarians.  They inevitably run out before they close for the day, so get here in time. They have great drinks, too, including a matcha latte made with cereal-infused milk, and a giant ice cream sandwich served between two macarons.