Brave man tries some of history's strangest sandwiches, including banana and liverwurst

Long before the Earl of Sandwich gave the dish its name, folks were sticking various ingredients—some genius, some highly questionable—between two pieces of bread. Arguably, what has made the sandwich withstand the test of time is that it virtually has no rules as far as fillings go. So, even in times of economic hardship, one could place whatever items they had on hand in between a measly couple of slices of toast, and it could still be considered a meal.

Still, while we applaud the ingenuity, certain sandwich recipes have stayed in the past for a good reason, as food enthusiast Barry W. Enderwick can attest. Over on his wildly popular Sandwiches of History account, Enderwick recreates historical sandwich recipes from old cookbooks, rates and reviews them, and even sometimes “pluses them up” with added ingredients to really make it sing.

As to be expected, some sandwiches, such as Gene Kelly’s Greatest Man Sandwich, featuring mashed potatoes and accompanied by a mug of beer, were surprise delights. Others…not so much. If there’s one thing to be learned after reading this, it’s that people in olden times put sardines where sardines should absolutely not be.

Thankfully, Enderwick has bravely volunteered to be a taste-tester. Here are some of his most head-scratching recreations.

Apple Sandwich (1910)

This recipe was gleaned from 250 Meatless Meals and Recipes. Mix half of a peeled and grated tart apple with cream cheese and heavy cream. Season with nutmeg and spread onto whole wheat bread. Yeah, it’s easy to see why Enderwick gave it an 8 and dubbed it a “very nice refresher.”

Spaghetti Sandwich (1931)

You’d think this one would be self-explanatory: tomato sauce, meat, and cheese between two slices of bread…maybe some noodles if we’re going crazy. But spend any time with Sandwiches of History, and all you learn that many sandwiches are incredibly misleading with their names, and the Spaghetti Sandwich is one of them.

There are, in fact, spaghetti noodles involved, along with a sieved hard-boiled egg, chopped onion, parsley, mayo, sardines, all mashed together into a paste and served on…what for it…buttered raisin bread

To no one's surprise, Enderwick threw it into the trash and gave it a 1.

Banana and Liverwurst Sandwich (1931)

Buckle up, cause this one’s a doozy. Half of a banana (Enderwick noted that in this time period, the commonly used banana species would be even MORE “banana-y,” making this even grosser) is added to liverwurst and ketchup, then mashed together. Salt to taste. Put on buttered bread. Pray for a quick death.

Enderwick called the sandwich a “textural nightmare,” threw it away, and gave it a .5. May this kind of nourishment never find me.

Pineapple Roquefort Sandwich (1965)

Gleaned from the Cookin’ with Dr. Pepper cookbook, the recipe says to mix cream cheese, pineapple, Roquefort cheese, Worcestershire sauce, Dr. Pepper (of course), along with paprika and salt together, then fold in pecans and onions. Chill the batch and spread onto bread.

Enderwick gave this an 8 after adding a few pineapple chunks for extra texture, and noted that you could taste the Dr. Pepper in it.

Onion and Mayo Sandwich (1927)

The Salads and Sandwiches Cookbook of 1927 says to soak onions in water for an hour, then dip them in a vinaigrette with cayenne pepper. Place the onions along with some corned beef onto buttered rye bread. The end.

At this point, you might be wondering, where's the mayo? There isn’t any! This one got a 6.5

Peanut Butter Sandwich…with Olives and Sardines! (1915)

These were technically two different (yet equally horrifying) options from the monster who created 100 Picnic Suggestions. Enderwick gave the peanut-butter-and-olives sandwich a 4.5, and the peanut-butter-and-sardines a 3.5, but when “plussed” up with other ingredients, they went up to 5.5 and 6.5, respectively. Too generous, if you ask me.

Popcorn Sandwich (1909)

As Enderwick will tell you, this one barely qualifies as a sandwich, since it’s open-faced. But that’s the least of its offences, apparently. To make the sandwich, you’ll need freshly popped popcorn, sardines (oh dear, not again), salt, a pinch of cayenne pepper, ketchup, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce, all mashed up together. Slather that on hot buttered toast, and top with Parmesan. Bon appetit.

Enderwick could only describe it as “some kind of really terrible tuna melt,” and didn’t even bother to give it a ranking.

Prune Sandwich (1940)

According to the White Lilly Cooking Guide, you’ll need to brown some almonds in shortening in a pan, then mix that in “prune pulp”…ground up prunes, essentially. This all sounds fine enough until you see that the recipe also calls for Indian relish, which is like a dill pickle relish with some added things like cabbage. Yeah.

Honestly, it could have been worse. Enderwick gave it a 4. Sadly, adding cheese did nothing.

Pineapple and Anchovy Cheese Sandwich (1935)

This final recipe comes from Five Feet of Flavor: A New Style. Just when you thought you’d escaped the clutch of sardines, a new tinned fish enters the chat. The recipe calls for pounding anchovy paste and cream cheese into a paste. Spread onto buttered bread. Then top with pineapple spears. Dear god.

Into the trash it went. As Enderwick explained, the flavors of the pineapple and cream cheese worked…until you get that fishy component. This one got a 2.

Obviously there are plenty of winners that Enderwick has tried—the Bocadillo de Gambas y Pimientos from Spain, the Pakistan Club Sandwich, and the Katsu Sando from Japan were all heavy-hitters for 2025—but one major thing we can glean from his experiments is that some things are best left in the past.

Follow Sandwiches of History for even more cool culinary content.