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While this sandwich is not one of our top sellers, it has its fervent followers, like those of the anchovy sandwich (see page 68). Taking our inspiration from the traditional New Orleans muffaletta—the sandwich of salty meats and tangy olive salad on a thick round roll—we often pair a fresh smoked salami similar to a sopressata with a drier saucisson sec. But you can customize your sandwich for your palate with your own favorites: prosciutto, mortadella, pancetta—any salumi will stand up nicely to the myriad flavors that burst from the marinated cauliflower salad. Don’t let the name cauliflower dissuade you—this is not the boiled bane of your childhood. Rather, it’s a textured mix of tastes in a bold marinade, with raisins and caraway seeds.

The fried onions in this recipe are sliced very thin and coated with flour to make them crisp. We wanted them to be a bit tart, but the more customary buttermilk just didn’t take the onions where we wanted them to go. So we first soak the onions in vinegar, then flour and fry them; this way they have the acidity we were after. (Think salt-and-vinegar potato chips.) The radish salad adds some heat to the equation, balancing the ensemble.

Do you know anyone who does not make chicken salad with leftover chicken? We don’t. And folks tend to want mayonnaise, some fruity sweetness and/or nuts, crunch, and texture. We’re happy to oblige. We start with our homemade Mayonnaise (page 176). And if you have not yet tried the Pickled Mustard Seeds (page 187), this chicken salad gives you the perfect excuse. We’re not sure “pickled” is the perfect term for them—they’re flavored with sugar, vinegar, and water and puff up, caviar-like. This gives the chicken salad little bubbles that pop as you eat it, as caviar does, releasing a lightly mustardy flavor. The Pickled Red Onions (page 190) lend sweet, sour, and oniony flavors, as well as texture and crunch. Frisée adds texture as well. And using Roasted Tomatoes (page 195)—a staple in our own home kitchens—makes this sandwich a year-round choice.

Let it not be said that we didn’t warn you: this is a five-napkin sandwich, tasty and light but also juicy and messy, making it great outdoor summer fare. When buying the ingredients, remember that fresh tuna should be deep red, so if it’s turning brown or gray don’t buy it. Playfully sweet and hot, peppadew peppers are perfect for the marinade; if you can’t find them, substitute pickled cherry peppers so that you retain sweetness in addition to bite. Placing it on the cutting board with the raw side up and cutting from the top down keeps the tuna from falling apart when you cut it . . . no promises from us that it will be as considerate when you bite into it a few minutes later!

With no boiled shrimp and no mayo, this shrimp salad is immediately set apart from its traditional counterpart. It’s actually closer to a scampi sandwich. Eschewing the mayo keeps the contents light and the flavor assertive. Throwing a party? As the shrimp are particularly beautiful, this recipe could also be used to make canapés.

Lobster and sweet potato: a seemingly odd couple, we know, but they have in common great textures, beautiful color, and a certain sweetness. Knowing that tarragon and lobster is a classic combination, we dress the sweet potato with a tarragon vinaigrette; the fennel adds a complementary fresh taste.

What self-respecting sandwich shop doesn’t carry a tuna sandwich? We admit that we almost didn’t. But when a magazine wanted to do an impromptu photo shoot before we opened, we had to improvise with ingredients already on hand at Craftbar. We seized a can of Sicilian tuna and added a few other items—and when we tasted the sandwich after the shoot, we realized we had a winner. Let go of the traditional tuna with lots of mayo—the mayonnaise masks the taste, a pity when using good tuna. Instead, use just a bit of lemon-flavored mayo on the bread, and season the tuna with lighter ingredients, such as the fronds of the fennel, similar in texture to dill but lending a fresher flavor to the fish.

Anchovies usually play a supporting role in a dish, typecast as the salty accent. But we just love them, so we challenged ourselves to craft a sandwich that actually features them. We knew that if we succeeded, we’d have a sandwich that could have a small but faithful following. And so it came to pass. We adapted an interesting Scandinavian preparation that paired anchovies with eggs—the richness of the eggs balances the tartness of the fish. We liked it. And, as it turns out, so does that small (but ever-growing) band of devotees we’d envisioned.

We use unripe mango here as one would a vegetable. Be sure that the mango is still hard to the touch (you should not be able to put a dimple in it) so you can then julienne it. Adding a bit of lime enhances the mango’s freshness.

Left uncooked, beets are not only crunchy and refreshing but also surprisingly substantial, making a satisfying base for this sandwich. Radish sprouts add a bit of heat as a counterpoint. And the avocado adds the needed element of richness.

Eggplant is like a sponge, soaking up whatever moisture it encounters. This, at least in part, is why it is typically breaded when fried—the bread crumbs serve as a shield to limit how much oil is absorbed. In this recipe, however, we salt the eggplant for about an hour to remove excess moisture and then fry it without a coating so it absorbs some oil. Decadent? Absolutely; the eggplant becomes luxuriously creamy and custardy. As buffalo mozzarella is a bit milder and softer than regular mozzarella, it is a perfect complement to the eggplant, but you can use whichever mozzarella you prefer. Interestingly, both the eggplant and the cheese are really the supporting cast in this sandwich; it is the relish that’s the star. The secret ingredient? Anchovies. If you need a purely vegetarian sandwich, leave them out, but they lend a subtle kick, and with the sweetness of the raisins and texture of the pinenuts, you have a picante and assertive relish.

Our regulars love this bright and flavorful vegan sandwich, especially in summer. It’s light yet absolutely satisfying. We like to cook our own chickpeas, but you can use canned—the chickpeas are a great vehicle for all of the vibrant flavors of the marinade. The red peppers provide a sweet counterpoint to the chickpeas; if you have the time, forgo the ones in the jar and roast your own (page 184). Then we add a low note (the Niçoise olives), and a high one (the confit), and finally the parsley (using whole leaves, not just a sprinkle). A final hint: toast the bread (just on the insides of the sandwich) for the perfect texture inside and out.

Caviar is often garnished with hard-boiled eggs, so why not the reverse? To enhance the taste of the eggs, cook them until the yolks are still a bit soft so they can serve as the basis for the sauce. (This obviates the need for mayo, which would mask the eggs’ flavor.) As this dish is all about the egg, use fresh farm eggs if possible. And if you wish to keep the price down, inexpensive salmon roe will substitute well for the caviar—and it looks beautiful, too.

This sandwich was inspired by a salad of avocado and celery that Sisha grew up eating in his native Chile. Popular in Chile, where avocados are plentiful (they’re sold by the bagful at stoplights for a song), the salad is dressed with lemon juice and olive oil; folks often add walnuts as well. And so we’ve adapted these elements to a sandwich that balances the creaminess of the avocado with the crunch of the celery, the “high notes” of the lemon with the “bass note” of a walnut pesto. We tossed in some watercress as well, to add some pepperiness. A great summertime sandwich, it’s easy to eat, both in the sense that it’s not at all messy and in the sense that while substantial, the sandwich is also light.

A cheese-and-fruit Danish, the Austro-Hungarian apricot dumpling called Marillenknödel, a Turkish dessert of poached dried apricots with sweet-tangy cream and pistachios . . . some flavor combinations just work well, across cultures and continents. This especially pretty open-faced sandwich is great for breakfast, brunch, a light lunch, an afternoon snack, even a dessert; it’s sweet but not too sweet. The colors, tastes, and textures of puffy white ricotta, velvety golden apricots, silky syrupy ribbons of fennel, crunchy toasted green pistachios, and a grinding or two of black pepper on top create a surprise for the palate and a feast for the eye. We both love putting a big platter of these sandwiches in the middle of the table and watching them disappear. Use slightly under ripe apricots; you can stew them longer than riper fruit and so they will absorb more of the flavors of the spices. Other stone fruits such as plums work well, too. The stewed fruit can be prepared in advance and kept refrigerated in its own syrup for several days.

We created this for the opening of our Las Vegas store, knowing that it would be the perfect sandwich to have after a night of Vegas-style fun. The richness of both the steak and the eggs is balanced by the acidity and savoriness of the vinaigrette used to season the mushrooms.

Growing up in Chile, Sisha often ate a breakfast of avocado on toast, adding olive oil, salt, pepper, and sometimes ham. So this simple sandwich evolved, like many breakfast foods, into an excellent snack. Please note that with a simple recipe such as this, it is all the more critical that each ingredient be top-notch. Of course, the obvious place to start is with quality smoked ham. But don’t forget, too, that a perfectly ripe avocado will add the best texture and flavor and that a fresh bakery baguette will have that incomparable French bread taste. As for the butter? Unsalted gives you control over how much and what kind of salt to add. And your sandwich will reach a higher level altogether if made with fresh butter from a local farm.

This is a spin on the cream cheese and jam sandwich. We thought the tartness of the goat cheese would marry well with the sweetness of the marmalade, with the rosemary accent to wake you up in the gentlest, nicest of ways and the multigrain bread sending you off on your day feeling you’ve eaten a meal. The marmalade could certainly be made with oranges or grapefruit—the rosemary would complement them as well.

At ’wichcraft, we make our own peanut butter and we make our own jelly, usually strawberry, Concord grape, and for a brief time in the spring, rhubarb. We feel that even the humble peanut butter and jelly sandwich deserves the finest ingredients. Here’s one of our top secrets: We doctor up standard peanut butter by adding real butter, which mellows the flavor, adds richness, and makes the texture more velvety. Is it excessive or—as some have suggested—even evil to add butter to peanut butter? Well, we think of it as substituting one fat for another, modest as long as you spread the same amount on your sandwich.

This open-faced sandwich is similar in many ways to a Spanish tortilla. It’s best made in really well-seasoned cast-iron skillets that were passed down from your grandmother. And there’s a great side benefit: the dish is perfect for brunch guests, since it looks so good (and thus makes you look so good) when you’re serving it!