The Best Hoagies in Philadelphia

Gary Sauce hovers over a vat of boiling oil, frying chicken cutlets. We’re in the rear kitchen of Antonio’s Italian Specialties, the three-year-old South Philly deli a block from Jefferson Methodist Hospital, where I was born. It’s where Sauce (real last name: Gerace) and his younger brother Joey make beloved hoagies like the Damien, which stars the restaurant’s thoroughly seasoned and fried-to-order cutlets. “What is the secret?” I ask Sauce. Dina Smith, who owns Antonio’s with her husband, Franco Saija, answers for him. “Cutlet Jesus,” she deadpans. Smith points to a miniature Christ statue, seemingly no taller than a Tic Tac, perched above the flame-scorched stovetop. Hoagies are the bedrock of Philly sandwich culture, and every worthy spot has a secret, a little thing it does differently. At Antonio’s, it’s the cutlets. Cutlet Jesus notwithstanding, Sauce credits a custard soak for their tenacious crust. Most people, when they hear “hoagie,” think of the Italian variety, a kaleidoscope of cured meats and cheeses layered inside a long roll with lettuce, tomato, onion, oregano, oil, and vinegar. But cold cuts, chicken or tuna salad, fried seafood, or veggies can all be hoagie-ified. Observant Muslims break Ramadan fast with fish hoagies. Fauxgies accommodate vegans with cashew cheese and eggless mayo. For me, cutlets must be paired with cold cuts to qualify. A cutlet sandwich with rabe and mozzarella? Not a hoagie. A cutlet with prosciutto and provolone? Hoagie. Other Philadelphians may disagree, and that’s inherent to the hoagie’s charm. What’s better than a sandwich you can not only inhale but argue over? Here are eight to try.

Marinucci’s Deli

2852 St. Vincent St.

The Platonic ideal of an Italian hoagie comes from Marinucci’s in Northeast Philly’s Mayfair neighborhood, which opened in 1991 and has been run since 2017 by AJ Dougherty and Chris Klos. The deli’s decor spans banners from long-shuttered local schools (RIP, North Catholic) and branded signs from cold-cuts supplier Dietz & Watson. Its version is a blessed union of hot and pepper hams, Genoa salami, pepperoni, a thick ring of mild provolone, and an Amoroso’s roll. It happens to be my Northeast Philly native wife’s favorite. “This is exactly what an Italian hoagie should be,” she says. “Just how I remembered.”

Liberty Kitchen

1400 North Front St.

All of chef Beau Neidhardt’s hoagies rank high at Liberty Kitchen, a modern Philly deli, but the roast beef is a sleeper hit. Of its components, only the provolone is neatly layered on the seeded Liscio’s roll, which is smeared with savory mayo infused with caramelized onion and horseradish. The rest (fresh arugula, banana peppers, and crunchy Cape Cod potato chips) are burrito-wrapped in thin slices of fennel-pesto-marinated beef, forming a tidy torpedo that’s nestled into the bread. Each bite contains every intended flavor and texture—a hoagie that eats and leaves no crumbs.

Antonio’s Italian Specialties

1138 West Ritner St.

At a glance, Antonio’s looks like any Italian American deli. Look closer and it’s dripping with swag: The primo olive bar. Dolce & Gabbana panettones that leopard-print-clad Donnas and Maries snap up like knockoff Birkins come Christmas. The oil-packed vermilion chiles I add to the sweet and spicy Damien. It consists of Gary Sauce’s peerless cutlets, prosciutto, hot soppressata, and fresh mozz on seeded Liscio’s bread, all finished with hot honey. Cutlet Jesus won’t like this, but the sandwich begs recall of a chilling quote from horror flick The Omen: “Look at me, Damien, it’s all for you.”

Dolores’ 2Street

1841 South 2nd St.

Peter Miglino lies in bed at night and thinks about hoagies. (Relatable.) “I’ll lean over to my girlfriend and ask, ‘What do you think about this and this and this?’” The next morning, he’ll drive from his suburban home to the South Philly shop named for his grandmother and “test and test and test,” he says. One elite creation is “The Henry” Veggie Hoagie, which starts with a seeded Sarcone’s roll slicked with mayo that’s infused with charred Italian long hot peppers. Inside is a mosaic of fried zucchini, grilled eggplant, broccoli rabe, roasted peppers, and sharp provolone. It’s a hefty boy, inexplicably affordable at $13. Miglino’s motto: “We make every single sandwich as if it was for us.”

Jordan Johnson Seafood

6716 Frankford Ave.

Across from a ShopRite and a funeral home, the locked-in kitchen crew at Jordan Johnson Seafood calls out orders as if they were on The Bear. Weekend-only hours and customers double-parked down the block demand speed, overseen with ballet-like precision by the titular Johnson, a 20-year restaurant-industry veteran. The buttermilk-battered-and-fried-fish hoagies are so packed with crunchy, zesty fillets of whiting that their Sarcone’s rolls must be hollowed out to accommodate the largesse. “This is not a salt-and-pepper shindig,” Johnson says, packing my heaving hoagie with lettuce, tomato, onions, American cheese, mayo, oregano, honey Buffalo sauce, and his Supreme Sauce, a homemade elixir of Scotch bonnets, honey, and truffles.

Càphê Roasters

3400 J St., G1

Thanks to savvy Vietnamese corner-store owners who started calling banh mi “Vietnamese hoagies” in the ’80s, the sandwich has become as sacred to Philly as the Italian jawn. My favorite lives in Kensington, at Thu Pham’s Càphê Roasters, a garden-level space where the thriving houseplants, scattered coloring books, rattan furniture, and ’90s family photos cultivate the nostalgic vibe of an after-school program. Served on a pillowy thin-crust baguette from Ba Le Bakery, the crispy tofu hoagie shines with sweet-and-sour canh chua sauce, house aioli, fresh cucumber, jalapeños, cilantro, and house-pickled carrot and daikon. It’s vegetarian, but the move is to add the Vietnamese pâté, redolent with star anise and clove.

L. Mancuso & Son

1902 East Passyunk Ave.

Though it comes on Baker Street Bread Co. focaccia instead of the traditional long roll, the Buccino at Mancuso’s is spiritually a hoagie, with spicy soppressata, smoky speck, house-roasted red peppers, basil leaves, hot honey, and the best fresh mozzarella in town. The recipe has been an East Passyunk treasure since 1939, but when Phil Mancuso (the son in “& Son”) died in 2021, it seemed like the shop would too. Enter Jimmy Cialella and John Denisi, who renovated the deli and formalized Phil’s formerly ad hoc menu with Jake Santini, a Southwest Philly savant. The mozzarella has not changed: Chubby braids and bocconcini bathe in hotel pans of opaque brine, awaiting introduction to a new generation of hoagie fans.

Angelo’s Pizzeria

736 South 9th St.

It’s not hyperbolic to say Danny DiGiampietro, owner of take-out-only spot Angelo’s Pizzeria in Bella Vista, changed how Philly—and thus the world—thinks about cheesesteaks. I’d argue the hoagies have the same pedigree, particularly the JYS. Sliced roast turkey, prosciutto, provolone, mozzarella, sautéed spinach, and roasted peppers perform alchemy on DiGiampietro’s unrivaled baked-on-site sesame roll. The bread’s chewy innards absorb a welcome lashing of oil and red wine vinegar, anchored by an ASMR-approved crust baked to a deep bronze.