Do you know what the greatest thing was before sliced bread?
When “sliced bread” was initially sold in 1928, it was advertised as “the greatest forward step in the baking industry since bread was wrapped.”
Slicing > wrapping, apparently.
As a fervent fan of sandwiches, I look at sliced bread as both a wonderful and terrible thing. Amazing for toasting. Grilled cheese on sliced bread? Marvelous. It was the democratization of the sandwich, which, as any follower of politics will tell you, doesn’t always make for better meals.
Consider the average homemade sandwich: A slice of bread with a swipe of mayonnaise or mustard, some cold cuts, a bit of cheese, and a second slice of condiment-treated bread. Lettuce, tomato, pickle, onion, etc.? If you’re fancy, sure, but it seems like most sandwiches are of the un-fancy variety.
Those are the sandwiches I grew up with. My mother hates making sandwiches and, throughout my childhood, it showed. (I think it’s the sensation of putting her hand in a wet plastic bag that put her off the most, and I’ll admit it’s not the most pleasant feeling in the world.)
And it was that sandwich-less environment that primed me for one of the great loves of my life: Hobby’s Hoagies.
Started by Delaware transplant George Hobson in 1991, Hobby’s Hoagies grew out of Hobson’s desire to enjoy the sandwiches and cheesesteaks he left when he moved to Oklahoma to work at the General Motors plant. When he retired, rather than take it easy, he decided to do the hardest thing on Earth: open a restaurant.
George passed on a few years ago, but his shops—the original location in Edmond and the sequel in the OKC Arts District—continue on today serving some of the best sandwiches in the metro area.
In 1996, during my senior year of high school, I spent 2-3 days every week eating a cheesesteak or a special Italian from Hobby’s for lunch. While my visits have slowed considerably, my love for those hoagies has only grown with time.
Part of the draw is the house-sliced (and baked) bread on the hoagies. The bread’s not so pillowy soft that you want to take a nap on it, but beneath the taut, slightly crisp crust is an airy crumb that amply supports and absorbs whatever it’s filled with. That’s good and bad. Good because it’s soft and delicious and satisfying and bad because if you leave it too long, it’ll get soggy. The lesson here? Eat it while it’s fresh.
Sandwiches are 7- or 12-inches, depending on your order, and they’re not particularly wild or inventive. Classics are classics for a reason. That’s not to say there are not amazing, never-before-sandwiched fillings that will change the way we think of sandwiches, but that we shouldn’t throw out the old just because it isn’t new.
Hobby’s hoagies generally stick to a formula: bread, filled with salami and provolone, topped with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, oils, spices, and cherry pepper relish. The Italian adds ham. The Special Italian adds ham and capicola. The ham adds Miracle Whip. The cheese removes the meat and adds American and Swiss cheeses.
My go-to has been and probably always will be the Special Italian. The double-porked goodness of ham and capicola (a spicy ham made from the neck of the animal) and the provolone add the heft and richness, while the vinegar of the pickles and pepper relish gives it brightness and makes you want to take bite after bite until it’s gone and you feel both full and empty at the same time.
In cooler months, of which Oklahoma is down to, like, two a year now, I tend toward the Philly cheesesteak stuffed full of hot sliced beef, onions and cheese, topped with the usual veggie mix and pepper relish. There’s something very magical that happens inside this sandwich when the beef juice mixes with the melted cheese-sauteed onions and creates little pockets of perfection. Every time I hit one, I stop and luxuriate in that blend of edible utopia. It’s like the best parts of a cheeseburger and a steak in one unbeatable moment.
The Deluxe cheesesteak adds bell peppers and mushrooms, which I enjoy, but don’t find necessary, and subtracts the lettuce, tomato, pickle, and pepper relish. I get that not everyone likes the cold veggies paired with the freshly grilled ingredients, but that contrast is magic for me. The crunch and juiciness of the veggies just highlights all the savory luxuriousness of the beef and cheese for me, but your mileage may vary.
(If you want bell pepper and mushroom AND the cool veggies in your cheesesteak, go for the Supreme. It’s literally 40 cents more than the regular.)
It’s rare for me to stray from the hoagie or the cheesesteak menus, but I will give it up for the club subs on occasion. Specifically the California club—turkey, bacon, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, Miracle Whip, and guac—combines all the things I want . . . minus the pepper relish. Seriously, just put that stuff on everything. It’s that good.
I think rye bread is just fine in moderation. I don’t particularly care for the kind with caraway seeds, but I do love the stout flavor the rye flour adds. The pastrami on grilled rye, which comes with Swiss cheese and mustard, is a pretty basic deli sandwich. The thing is, Oklahoma doesn’t have that many delis, so finding one stacked full of peppery pastrami is kind of rare. (There’s also a Reuben on rye if you’re a fan of sauerkraut, Thousand Island dressing, and corned beef.)
Man absolutely can live by sandwiches alone. Science proved it in the 1970s. But that doesn’t mean you have to eat just a sandwich. I’m pretty partial to the potato and pasta salads at Hobby’s, though the french fries are nothing to sneeze at, either. The pasta salad is a solid, standard style, but the potato salad really gets my palate pondering. It’s creamy, but it’s chunky. It’s bright, but it’s rich. Is that cream cheese? (I checked, and yes, it is.) It’s delicious enough that I keep going back for more.
Despite the focus on hoagies, Hobby’s does have other menu items and they’re fine. I’m not going to go out of my way for pizza or a stromboli (looks more like a calzone) from Hobby’s, but if you’re there and the only thing you want that day is pizza, there’s nothing wrong with it. That said, there’s better pizza in town, but you’ll struggle to find a better cheesesteak or hoagie in this town.
- Hobby’s Hoagies
- 222 South Santa Fe Ave. in Edmond
- (405) 348-2214
- Monday-Saturday 10:30 a.m. to 9 p.m.
- 325 North Walker Ave. in OKC
- (405) 605-3131
- Monday-Friday 10:30 a.m. to 5 p.m.
- Saturday 10:30 a.m. to 4 p.m.
- hobbyshoagies.com
Watch for our weekly column by one of OKC’s best food reviewers, Greg Elwell focused on locally-owned restaurants serving great food by neighbors you want to know.
Long-time food enjoyer Greg Elwell writes about food, restaurants, and trends. He has his own blog "I Ate Oklahoma" and has written for The Oklahoman, The Oklahoma Gazette, and others.