15 Vintage Sandwiches That Nobody Remembers Anymore

Any way you slice them, sandwiches are a great option for a quick lunch on the go, and we're also big fans of the kind of hot and hearty sandwich that's perfect for a delicious, filling, and fast dinner. Chopped cheese-style pastrami sandwich, anyone? The great news for sandwich lovers is that it seems like there's a new kind of sandwich taking social media by storm on an almost daily basis, and some do prove to have some serious staying power. Still, there are plenty of once-popular sandwiches that have gone the way of the dodo, and honestly? That's not always a bad thing.

When we started wondering if there were any vintage sandwiches that we might like to see make a comeback, we found some really weird stuff. For example, did you know that ketchup originally started not as a tomato-based sauce but as a fish-based one? That's kind of what we're talking about here, so on that note, let's take a walk down memory lane and check out some of the vintage sandwiches that have fallen out of favor — for reasons that might become almost immediately clear.

In the South, there's an art to making the perfect tomato sandwich. It's bread, slices of fresh tomato, some mayo, and a little bit of seasoning. It's summertime on a sandwich, and we get that. It's even mentioned in Eva Greene Fuller's 1909 cookbook, "The Up-to-Date Sandwich Book: 400 Ways to Make a Sandwich," along with suggestions that involve adding lettuce, a splash of lemon juice, and butter. It also includes tomato sandwich recipes that call for a second main ingredient, like horseradish or walnuts. The latter seems like it would be an oddly crunchy sandwich, but hey, that one makes some sense. 

There's another version of the tomato sandwich that hasn't had quite the staying power as the classic. That's the tomato and onion sandwich, which involves taking ketchup, adding some extra salt, pepper, and sugar, and then some chopped onions. Mix, smear on a slice of buttered bread, add a piece of lettuce, and there's your sandwich. It's probably more accurate to call this one a ketchup sandwich, as actual tomato slices are not included.

When it comes to popular fruits, prunes generally aren't at the top of many lists. Sure, they exist, but what do you do with them? If you happened to be living in the 1940s or 50s, you might be making sandwiches with them. And yes, there was typically meat involved, too.

If you wanted to take a page out of the 1941 book "500 Tasty Sandwiches," you'd be throwing prunes in a blender with "deviled meat" (that is ham), ketchup, Tabasco, salt, pickles, parsley, and onion, then making a spread to put on buttered bread with some lettuce. (There's also a footnote that says you can cut these sandwiches into whatever shape you want, which is presumably to distract from the prune-and-meat pudding.) Prune sandwiches seem to have hung around for at least a little while, with prune-and-bologna sandwich recipes being published into the 1950s. These, too, called for blending (or chopping and mixing) ingredients into a spread, usually with processed meat.

Here's a fun fact: Early PB&J sandwiches used the now little-known jelly flavors of crab apple or currant. That goes back to around the start of the 20th century, and a few decades later, people were serving up peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches — but the reason for that wasn't necessarily the fact that it was delicious. It was the Great Depression, times were tough, and a peanut butter and mayo sandwich was an affordable option that was filled with fat and energy, and it would keep you going.

Despite the creation being especially popular during that period, the idea goes back to at least 1909, and although it was the two ingredients spread on bread in its simplest form, there were variations. One recipe calls for using butter, lemon, salt, pepper, an egg, and sour cream and then adding that mix to the peanut butter and mayo. 

Peanut butter and mayo sandwiches stuck around for a surprisingly long time, and it seems that it became less of a necessity and more of something that was actually enjoyed. In a 1960s-era Hellmann's advertisement, some suggestions for upgrading this classic dish include adding bacon and pickles, pineapple, apples and jam, and onions with sliced, hard-boiled eggs.

Many of the vintage sandwiches we're talking about today might leave you wondering if they predated the discovery of taste buds, but there's one sandwich from the 1940s that might just be your new summertime lunch. This simple sandwich uses watermelon instead of bread. If you're the type that eagerly waits for watermelon to make a reappearance at your favorite grocery store, this one's definitely for you.

What else does this summer classic call for? Some diced walnuts mixed with cream cheese, and that's it. That, of course, is just the official version that gets a mention in a 1941 issue of the Atlanta Constitution newspaper, and honestly, this is one sandwich that we'd like to make a comeback. You might not be making this for lunch, but imagine a sunny summer afternoon when you're feeling a bit peckish and wondering what to do with all the watermelon you've got sliced up in the fridge. Get creative, and make a sandwich!

It's not entirely clear just when the Prosperity Sandwich was created, but we do know who was responsible for this honestly tasty-sounding, open-faced treat that we think needs to make a comeback. St. Louis' Mayfair Hotel is credited with first serving this, and as for the name, it's here that the discrepancy comes in: It's often said to be a tongue-in-cheek reference to promises that the Great Depression will be coming to an end, but as it's also said to have been from the 1920s — therefore perhaps pre-dating the Depression, no one's really sure. 

Whatever this sandwich's backstory is, it's still a pretty delicious-sounding option for serving a sandwich for dinner — especially if you're looking for a way to use up ham and turkey leftovers. Put sauteed mushrooms and shallots on slices of toast, cover with a few slices of your meat of choice, then a cheese sauce made with cheddar and seasoned with Dijon and Worcestershire. There are usually also slices of tomato included, and more cheese on top because we all know that the more cheese there is, the better. Melt, serve, and you'll wonder why this isn't a thing anymore.

It wouldn't be wrong to describe the sandwich loaf more as a concept than a specific sandwich, as it's basically a weird monstrosity that's layered and frosted like a cake. Sort of, because we're (thankfully) not talking about slathering on a vanilla buttercream frosting. Most of the recipes we've found call for the frosting to be some kind of whipped cream cheese, which isn't as weird and terrible as it sounds.

The idea is to make a loaf that looks like a cake, and when you cut into it, you'll get a slice of sandwich. Depending on what you're putting inside, this could actually be a decently fun party idea. Oft-repeated ideas include using ham, chicken, salmon, or egg salad spread in between the layers of white bread, and some even go with a shrimp salad ... for those extra-classy events. Different types of bread would usually go into each layer. These were likely to find a place on tables from the 1940s to the '70s, and again, depending on assembly, this might not be half bad ... which is to say that we'd at least give it a try. Is it due for a return?

We have a lot of questions about this one, but we'll get to that. First, let's explore the details, as told in the 1900 text simply titled "The Sandwich Book." There are a lot of interesting things in here — including proof that cheese sandwiches have always been a thing — but it's the brown sugar sandwiches that caught our eye. They're described as being perfect for the kids to take to school, and we have doubts ... but we're not totally against this. 

It's exactly what it sounds like. It's a cup of brown sugar and half a cup of chopped nuts, mixed and put between two slices of buttered bread. Wouldn't that be incredibly dry? How much butter would be needed to make this one tolerable? On the other hand, with enough super-soft, whipped butter, this might be downright delicious. We're not saying that we're going to try it, but we're not ruling out the possibility, either.

Pro tip: Bacon grease is the secret ingredient to a stellar grilled cheese. But in some sandwiches, it doesn't have such a secret role, taking on a more prominent position instead. Take this sandwich from the Great Depression. When the perfect storm of circumstances came together for nationwide scarcity, people needed to get creative when it came to getting enough food to feed families. In some cases, that meant bacon grease sandwiches — which are exactly what they sound like. Save the bacon grease, smear it on bread, and call it a sandwich.

The Great Depression ended just in time for the kickoff of World War II, and these sandwiches remained popular. They were a way to get through more scarcity: Drippings and grease were saved from roasting meats, and then sometimes there was a sprinkle of salt added. A truly good sandwich would have both the lard and the gelatin-esque grease.

You might know that you can reach for gelatin to thicken meat stock, but would you think of using it in a chicken sandwich? Perhaps not in the 21st century, but for at least the first few decades of the 20th, jellied chicken sandwiches were the bee's knees.

And yes, it's exactly what you think it is. A recipe published in the early 1900s called for taking boiled chicken, chopping it, turning it into a paste, and mixing it into gelatin with cream and horseradish to create a sort of chicken Jell-O. That would be left to solidify, and then it'd be sliced and used in a sandwich. The idea stayed at least until 1936 when it was featured in a book called "1001 Sandwiches," in which the same exact recipe makes an appearance. There is also an alternate version of the gelatin idea as well, but it goes a little further, calling for mayo, half a bay leaf, curry powder, and capers, as well the chicken jelly.

There are a lot of ways to upgrade your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but it's safe to say that some of the recipes you'll find in early 20th-century sandwich books aren't anything that would normally cross your mind. For example, we'll start with one text from 1900. That one advises mixing your peanut butter with olives, celery, and a non-specific salad dressing. As for the adventurous sandwich-maker who finds themselves craving a little variety, there's another suggestion to use peanut butter, eggs, and vinegar. 

Fast forward to 1909, and you'll find ideas that don't actually sound half bad. One suggests adding a little sherry or port wine to peanut butter, which isn't too far off from a PB&J. Interestingly, it's not just peanut butter that was popular; there are a slew of other nuts — including hickory nuts, chestnuts, black walnuts, pecans, and almonds — that were regularly used. Some are pretty interesting, like sandwiches made with whipped sweet cream and almonds, chopped hickory nuts and cheese, and one that even calls for chopped walnuts with dates.

There's a lot to be said for using all of an animal, and that's traditionally included the offal. (Yes, that's technically what the oddly-named sweetbreads actually are.) Beef tongue is also known as a particularly tender, succulent, soft piece of meat — when it's prepared correctly — so by now, it shouldn't be a surprise that beef tongue sandwiches were once a thing. 

You might also guess that there's a variety of suggestions for preparing this, but it's usually boiled and sliced very, very thin. Some ideas included adding a spread made from butter, mustard, salt, pepper, and cayenne, while another from a 1909 cookbook suggested butter, ketchup, and celery salt. Beef tongue was apparently also popularly served chopped with hard-boiled eggs or simply with tomato and mayo. Other recipes turn the tongue into a paste, reminiscent of the egg salad that it was added to, and include seasonings, Worcestershire, butter, or mayo. Traditionally, the tongue isn't the only offal used for sandwiches, and calf's liver — particularly when chopped and mixed with bacon — was also used.

Some foods seem to lend themselves to making sandwiches, while others ... perhaps, not so much. Beans might not be the first thing that comes to mind when you're thinking about making a creamy sandwich spread, but we'll admit that this one has us reconsidering some of our life choices. Let's take one example from a 1941 cookbook that includes a recipe for a baked bean sandwich. It's basically mashing baked beans, adding pickles, olives, and mayo, and putting it on a sandwich. The mayo might be a little iffy, but a baked bean paste might be a brilliant addition to a pulled pork sandwich.

Other examples of bean sandwiches are perhaps less versatile, like the string bean sandwich that appears in a 1909 book. It utilizes chopped string beans, onions, walnuts, and French dressing to make a sandwich, and that's only slightly stranger than earlier recipes that call for mashing lima beans, adding butter, onion, mustard, olives, and ketchup, and then using that as your sandwich filling.

The John Bull is a classic British dish of meat sandwiched by potatoes, which makes sense — particularly as a bit of late-night goodness — but that's not what we're talking about here. The Johnny Bull sandwich we're talking about is one that shows up in "The Sandwich Book" from 1900, and there's only a precious bit of information on this one. It's described as having been a massive hit after becoming the talk of an unidentified, high-society sort of event, and we'll go out on a limb and say it was such a topic of conversation because it's downright weird. 

Want to make your own? Start with boiled beef, turn it into a paste, and mix it with boiled macaroni, celery, onion juice, and mayo. To be fair, it's not too far removed from a chicken salad sandwich, but it's the macaroni that seems like it would make this a carb overload.

Although livermush can be considered one of those iconic foods that originated in North Carolina, it's safe to say that today, it's not as well-known as North Carolina-style barbecue or Pepsi. Much like our beef tongue sandwiches, livermush was a way to make the most of everything that came from an animal — specifically, a pig. As the name suggests, it was mostly liver (although other parts could be used) that was mixed with cornmeal and spices, then cooked — often on a grill or pan. 

As far as serving it on a sandwich, there's a variety of ways, too. Mustard has long been popular, along with onions, cheese, or an egg. Interestingly, there are some places that have been giving livermush a 21st-century update, and in some cases, it's being expanded to include other animal bits — like chicken skin — that might otherwise go to waste. It might not sound appetizing, but those who still love it really love it. Even if you don't, you've got to respect the idea of using all of an animal.

This one's a little different, but it's a pretty epic story. A classic pimento cheese sandwich is still amazing, and it's this simple sandwich that's been a staple at the Masters Tournament — a major golf championship for men — for decades. Hilariously, though, the precise recipe that made this sandwich such a fan favorite has been lost to the mists of time — and here's how it happened.

Starting back in the 1960s, one man was responsible for making all the pimento cheese spread that went into the sandwiches at the Masters. His name was Nick Rangos, and he was famous for his pimento cheese recipe, but then Masters decided to give the contract to someone else in the early 2000s after 45 years. However, the new cheese spread was not the same, and Rangos refused to give up the recipe.

Even though his successor, Ted Godfrey, claimed to have finally hacked the recipe and duplicated the pimento cheese Rangos made, he was ultimately also dropped by the Masters. Godfrey also declined to share what he says is a secret ingredient that takes his pimento cheese to the next level. Godfrey isn't talking; Rangos passed away in 2015, and anyone who wants to have a pimento cheese sandwich like the ones that used to be served at the Masters is just out of luck.